#Logan Sargent

[sainzofthetimez]

Why are people confused as to why the Williams cars are struggling?? They’re being held together with duct tape, spit, prayers, and the last bit of James Vowles’ dignity. Like let’s not be shocked they’re shit let’s be grateful they’re fucking running

[ynbabe]

LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss

can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.

idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️

Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-

Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader

As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.

Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.

You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.

You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.

The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.

You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.

Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.

Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.

"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.

f1waglife

f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?

Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????

Username Y/n come home the kids miss you

Username Omg mans is in love

Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n

You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.

Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.

"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.

"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.

He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.

You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.

"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?

You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.

PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.

y/nl/nofficial

y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-

username oop sis snapped

username you tell em girl

username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf

username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??

username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans

Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨

username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love

username shall we start calling him Father?

The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!

[loganshouseofworship]

spending time with Logan after the Miami gp

I miss it — Logan Sargent x reader

Fluff

Word count 446

Adding to my master list on @faithshouseofchaos

The cool crisp air was welcoming as you stepped out into the night. Wrapping the blanket tightly around your shoulders you sighed looking out at the pier where Logan sat overlooking the water. Smiling to yourself you walked out to where he sat lost in thought.

“I thought I’d find you out here” you say, making yourself known. Logan’s brooding expression instantly softened as he saw you walking towards him, a small smile gracing his rugged face when you spoke.

“Hey, couldn't you sleep?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling quietly. He patted the space beside him silently inviting you to join him in his solitude. You sat down beside him, your shoulder brushing against his as the blanket now covering both of you. Letting out a content sigh you leaned into him slightly, soaking up his warmth and comfort.

"Just needed a change of scenery," you replied softly, your eyes fixed on the calm ripples of the water in front of you.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the occasional rustle of leaves the only source of noise. “I miss it,” Logan says.

“Miss what?” You asked, lifting your head up to look at him.

He continued to stare out at the water, his gaze distant. "The water," he replied finally. "Being out on the open sea."

His expression was melancholic, his eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and a deep longing. "The freedom. I miss home. I miss Fort Lauderdale."

He fell silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts before letting out a soft chuckle.

"Sounds stupid, huh?"

You looked at him, your heart clenching at the vulnerability in his voice.

"No, it doesn't," you replied, placing your hand on his arm, feeling the muscles ripple beneath as he tensed slightly.

"It's not stupid at all."

You sat in silence for a while longer, the night air cooling slightly around you, the only sound being the gentle lap of waves against the pier.

Logan looked at you, his gaze soft as his eyes roamed over your face.

"Thanks for listening," he mumbled, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

He fidgeted a bit, shifting slightly so that his thigh was now pressed against yours. The warmth from his body seeping through the fabric of your clothes. You smiled, feeling the heat from his body against your own. Your fingers unconsciously drawing patterns along his arm.

"Of course," you said quietly, your eyes still fixed on the water. "Anytime. I'm always here if you want to talk."

The silence between you was comfortable now, the earlier tension replaced by a quiet understanding.

[j-emini]

i think it's clear that every driver was effected by the conditions of this race but to underline the severity of this issue here's a list of how each one was effected:

sargent - retired, likely due to dehydration or other adverse health issues from the heat.

alonso - reported his seat burning him.

ocon - threw up in his helmet only 15 laps in.

stroll - nearly passed out during the race and after getting out the car.

albon - needed assistance to get out of his car.

(edit) russell - reported he nearly passed out twice whilst driving.

(edit) leclerc - reported being close to passing out multiple times whilst driving.

and that's not including any of the drivers who just appeared plain exhausted (understandably). what does it take to get the fia to give a fuck about the health of it's athletes? because if this isn't going to do it then that's beyond appalling, it's borderline abusive.

[pit-2-podium]

james vowles really spent the entire principals meeting going: please stop asking me questions I don't know the answer to, you want to know what i know? read the news, because that's how I know literally anything. and the fun, no, i don't think im going to replace my experienced f1 driver with a kid who like five months ago was racing in f4 are you insane?

[leclercskiesahead]

The grammar error sent me before I realised the wasp joke

[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 3. - Sunburn

Sunscreen can be sexy

Author's note: This one is a little filthy, I'm sorry!

“Jeez, who ransacked your room, dude?” Oscar asks, letting out a whistle at the sight of Logan’s room.

“Oscar, please. The striped salmon top or my baby blue one? Or should I just wear a tank?” a harried Logan asks, shoving the two options into Oscar’s hands as he digs through a pile on his bed for his tank top.

“Uhhh, both?” Oscar answers unhelpfully, causing Logan to glare up at him. “I mean, if you’re wearing your white boardies, definitely salmon. It really brings out your… uh, nipples?” he finishes awkwardly.

“Seriously? You aren’t even trying. At least say eyes or tan, Oscar. Something normal. This is why people think we’re dating,” Logan says, shaking his head and abandoning his search for the tank to put on the shirt. Looking in the mirror, he begrudgingly accepts that Oscar is right—the salmon striped shirt does suit his tan (not his nipples).

Meanwhile, Oscar shudders, remembering the last time they were mistaken for a couple.

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Log. At least tonight you won’t cockblock me. I’m ready to be someone’s pillow princess,” Oscar says with an exaggerated, dreamy sigh for effect.

“Oh yeah? You’ve never seen them, have you?” Logan giggles. “Osc, you’re in for a treat—international ones at that.”

“I better be. It’s been so dry, and if tonight isn’t fruitful, I’m either going to be a born-again virgin or drown myself in that lake, I swear,” Oscar says, pointing at Logan in the mirror.

Swatting Oscar as he turns away from the mirror, Logan says, “Shut up. The only thing you’re going to drown in is your own saliva. Seriously, just wait until you see. Alex is so lucky he’s only bicurious for the homies when he’s sloshed. I don’t know how else he’d handle working around all of them all day.”

Snickering, Oscar replies, “He definitely can’t kiss you tonight, but I’m ready for some homie cuddles and kisses if tonight’s a fail.”

“Always here for some homie cuddles and kisses,” Alex says seriously, hand up in a mock salute as he walks into Logan’s room, mindful of the piles littering the floor.

“Can you please tell Oscar that you work with too many hot people for him to end up in your lap?” Logan pleads with Alex, dashing around as he fills his bag with a change of clothes, towel, and other necessities.

“While my lap is always open to the homies, Osc, there are a couple in there who are definitely your type. I’d be a little more excited,” Alex tells Oscar with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Fine, I’ll be realistically optimistic,” Oscar sighs.

“I—uh, I don’t think that’s quite how it works, but there you go,” Alex responds, a little baffled.

“Anyway, how much are we betting that Logan’s going to pop a boner when he sees big Max all wet? Ooo ahh ,” Oscar asks, pitching his voice high to imitate Logan, even pulling his hands together and making his eyes go wide and sparkly.

“Oh, I kind of bet with the boys on whether Max was going to, so Logan, I need you to really pull through for me. I have $100 riding on it,” Alex says, putting his hands up in a "what can you do" motion.

With his hands on his hips, Logan says, “I don’t know whether to be mad that you’re all betting on us, or happy that you have so much faith in my game.”

Twirling his car keys, Alex smiles cheekily and asks, “So, are we ready to go, guys? Your prince awaits, Angel .” Alex drops his tone in a poor imitation of Max.

Logan smacks his shoulder as he grumbles past him and Oscar with a poorly concealed, “traitors.”

Oscar and Alex laugh as they follow him out. “Wait, Angel , come on! Don’t be like that now,” Oscar yells after him.

—---------------- 

The drive to Danny’s lake house is filled with their endless chatter. Once they arrive, Danny walks out to greet them, arms wide open. “Welcome! Welcome! Mi casa es mi casa!” 

“It’s ‘mi casa es su casa,’ buddy,” Logan quickly quips as he gives Danny a hug.

“I know what I said, Logie-Boy. Oscar! Glad you made it. Ready to represent Australia, brother?” Danny enthusiastically jostles Oscar under his arm. Oscar just looks at Alex and Logan and replies, “Err, sure?”

Danny delivers a warm slap to Oscar's back. “Good enough for me! And our man of the hour, Alex, are you excited for our day out on the water?”

“Yeah, Danny! And you promised me jet skis, remember?” Alex responds, his smile wide with excitement.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Alex. I’ve got you covered.” Danny flashes them all a bright smile. “Now, follow me. The boat’s docked out back; we’re just getting ready to pull out.” He leads them inside through the home’s large oak door.

“If you guys need anything from the fridge or the bathroom, feel free,” Danny says, vaguely gesturing as they walk through the kitchen and make their way to the deck outside.

They greet the other boys along the way, making introductions as they introduce Oscar as well. 

Once the trio reaches the dock, Alex promptly runs into Logan’s back, and Oscar collides with him. Their friend has come to a stop. “I think you should get your money back, Alex,” Logan whispers, eyes wide as he takes in Max in all his shirtless glory, untying one of the ropes. Muscles flexing, with a light sheen of sweat on his body, Max brushes his hair out of his eyes. And heavens above, his head is turning in their direction.

Max lowers his arm as he catches Logan’s gaze, sending a wave their way while his other hand remains occupied with the mooring line. 

Alex claps Logan on the shoulder. “It’s too late, Logie Bear. Just jump in the water when you feel your princess jump to attention. I have faith in you!” He gives Logan another reassuring clap and pushes him down the dock toward the boat.

The boys continue past Max after a brief hello, but Logan stays behind. “Hey, Angel, you ready for the boat today?”

“He-Hi Max, yeah, I uh, think so,” Logan replies, his nerves evident.

Max gives him a once-over, noting his unbuttoned shirt and his tiny white board shorts. His gaze flicks back to Logan’s face. “Did you bring sunscreen, sweetheart?” A trace of concern colouring his voice.

Logan digs through his tote bag until he triumphantly pulls out a bottle of Banana Boat, presenting it eagerly. “Yes! Did you need some?”

“No, Angel, just worried for your pretty little face.” With his free hand, Max’s thumb strokes Logan’s cheek. “Wouldn’t want your pretty face to burn out there.” He tilts his head, his thumb and index finger gently holding Logan’s chin, asking, “Now, would we?”

Logan shakes his head side to side, still holding Max’s gaze. “No.”

From inside the boat, they hear George shout for everyone to board now, directing Max to let the mooring line go. 

They head to its back, Logan looking at the slight jump to get on the cabin cruiser with trepidation. 

“Come on, Angel, I’ll help you up,” is all the warning Logan gets before Max’s hands are on his waist, lifting him from the dock and onto the boat.

“Max!” is all the protest Logan manages before he’s gently placed on the floor of the boat. Looking back, he sees Max's answering grin, followed by his hands on Logan’s shoulders, guiding him further inside.

They greet George at the helm, who stands with his white shirt unbuttoned, wearing navy boardies and a captain’s hat perched on his soft curls, which he tips at Logan in jest.

At Max’s side, Logan giggles at George’s antics.

Max’s hand travels from where it rests on Logan’s shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth as it reaches his waist with a squeeze. Pulling Logan into him, he asks, “Excited, Angel?” His lips brush Logan’s ear with every syllable.

Logan turns to him, their lips inches apart, eyes slightly looking up as he nods in affirmation before asking, “Mmhmm, you?”

Max answers with another squeeze to his waist as he leans against the cabin, pulling Logan between his legs. Both hands now resting lower on Logan’s waist, Max’s eyes locking onto his. “Of course. Are you swimming or just laying back and tanning, pretty?” His thumbs stroke Logan’s hip bones through his shorts.

Logan swallows as he feels Max’s hands overlap on his hips, large enough to wrap around him with ease. 

Logan brings his hands to Max’s bare chest, flattening his palms against the steady beat of his heart. Eyeing the golden brush of hair there, he grins. “Why are you trying to get me wet?” he teases, flicking his gaze back up to Max’s eyes to gauge his reaction.

Max simply squeezes Logan’s hips again, spreading his fingers as they brush the edge of Logan’s shorts. “I don’t know, Angel. Can you blame me?”

Logan’s breath hitches slightly as Max’s fingers toy with the hem of his shorts, their bodies pressed together in the gentle sway of the boat. The air between them feels thick, buzzing with the unspoken tension Logan's trying to ignore for Alex’s sake. But Max's eyes, dark with intent, make it nearly impossible.

"I’m starting to think you can’t help yourself," Logan quips softly, though the slight tremble in his voice betrays his composure. His fingers trace the cross dangling from Max’s neck, pressing it lightly into his chest.

Max chuckles low, the sound vibrating through Logan’s hands. "You might be right," he murmurs, leaning closer until their foreheads nearly touch, the teasing edge of his smile never quite leaving his face. “You’re irresistible, Angel. Wanted you for a while now, and now I can’t help myself.”

Logan’s face flushes, and he feels the warmth spread through him, almost drowning out the cool breeze coming off the water. He bites his bottom lip, his gaze darting away, unsure how much longer he can hold out before closing the distance between them.

Before he can think too much about it, Max’s hand slides up his back, fingers grazing his skin just under his shirt. Logan’s breath hitches again.

“Max,” Logan warns, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max smirks, eyes twinkling, his lips ghosting just shy of Logan’s. “You’re so wound up, Angel.” His hands are so big, Logan feels them branding his skin with their warmth.

Logan’s sharp inhale is cut short by a voice calling out from the helm.

“Oi! Lovebirds, we’re anchored!” George shouts, oblivious to the tension between them as he leans casually against the wheel. “I’m not watching this rom-com unfold all day. Get your butts in the water or I’m leaving without you!”

Logan pulls back quickly, startled, and laughs awkwardly as he breaks free from Max’s grasp. "Guess we should—"

But Max grabs his wrist, pulling him back for a brief moment, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Don’t forget your sunscreen, yeah? I’ll see you, Angel,” he says, voice low and promising, kissing the inside of Logan’s wrist before letting go with a smirk.

Logan swallows hard, feeling his heart race as he stumbles a bit toward the edge of the boat, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Logie bear, there you are!” Alex exclaims as he catches sight of him.

“We’re going on the jet skis first, Log, you wanna ride with one of us?” Oscar asks.

“No, I think I’ll just swim first, but you guys have fun,” Logan says, hoping the flush on his chest has subsided.

“Oh, swim , yes of course. I have faith in you, princess,” Alex teases, lifting a fist in solidarity as his eyes trail down to Logan’s shorts.

“You dic–” Logan isn’t even done swearing at his best friend before he turns swiftly to jump on one of the jet skis.

“It’s okay, Logan, I’ll splash him for you,” Oscar says, patting Logan’s shoulder consolingly. 

Logan spins on him with a grin. “Thanks, Osc. Anyway, wasn’t I right?”

“Yeah, who wa—” Oscar’s cut off as George puts a hand on his shoulder, asking, “Oscar, right? George. Your captain for all intents and purposes,” he introduces with a wink and a hat tilt identical to the one he gave Logan earlier.

Logan looks at his best friend, noticing how Oscar’s ears have gone bright red, cheeks slightly flushed—all tell-tale signs of his attraction.

“Uh, yeah. Th-thanks, Captain,” Oscar stammers. Logan snickers—it's always the British accents that get Oscar.

Not waiting around for George’s response, Logan unbuttons the remaining ones on his shirt and dives headfirst into the crystal-clear water, the coolness rushing over his heated skin.

As he surfaces, shaking the water from his hair, he looks up to see Max leaning over the edge of the boat, eyes fixed on him.

Charles whistles from the deck. “Think you’ve got a fan, little Logan.” His comment is followed by more catcalls from the other guys.

Logan ignores them, letting the water cool his flushed skin, though he can still feel Max’s gaze burning into him.

—--- 

Logan climbs back onto the boat, feeling the lingering coolness of the water and a soft fatigue setting in. Toweling off his hair and body, he spots all the boys whizzing across the horizon on their jet skis. Without much thought, Logan spreads his towel in the sunniest part of the deck and lays down on his stomach, ready for a nap.

He’s drifted off when he feels a gentle hand combing through his damp hair, followed by Max’s concerned voice. “Where’s your sunscreen, Angel? You’re already burning a little.”

Logan opens one eye, too tired from his swim to muster a proper response. He just shrugs and pushes his head deeper into Max’s hand, a silent invitation for him to keep playing with his hair.

Max chuckles softly. “Alright, Angel. You want me to put it on you?”

Logan gives a lazy nod, barely lifting his head. He feels Max’s thumb trace a slow line from the nape of his neck down to the base of his spine, sending a warm shiver through his body. The sensation of Max’s touch, combined with the heat of the sun, lulls him deeper into relaxation.

Max works the sunscreen down Logan’s back with smooth, steady movements, lingering at the base of his spine before moving up again to his neck. He pauses, then gently applies the lotion to the back of Logan’s ears, rubbing it into the soft skin. 

Logan shifts a little but doesn’t open his eyes, a contented sigh escaping him.

Max grins, squeezing more sunscreen onto his fingers. He traces a line down Logan’s nose, carefully smoothing it over the bridge and the tip. Then, he adds a generous amount to Logan’s cheeks, saying, “Can’t forget this,” with a soft chuckle. .

Logan scrunches his nose playfully in response, mumbling, “Tickles.”

Max laughs under his breath, finishing by running a thumb over the tips of Logan’s ears, leaving no spot unprotected. “All set Angel,” he whispers, as Logan drifts further into sleep, his face peaceful in the warm sunlight.

—---

When Logan comes to, there's a gentle hand threading through his hair, and his cheek rests against something solid and warm. Blinking against the sun, he gradually realises he's half-lying in Max’s lap. The steady rise and fall of Max’s breathing is comforting, and Logan can feel the warmth of his thigh beneath him, the rhythmic motion of Max's fingers softly caressing his scalp.

Groggy, Logan shifts slightly, turning his face up to meet Max’s gaze. “How long was I out?” he mumbles, still a bit disoriented.

Max smiles down at him, his other hand resting casually on Logan’s back. “Not too long, Angel. The others are still out on the jet skis.”

As Logan sits up and leans against Max, still in that sleepy haze, Max’s arm naturally slips around his waist, effortlessly guiding him onto his lap. Logan’s back rests comfortably against Max’s chest, and with a stifled yawn, he turns his face into the crook of Max’s neck, his breath warm against Max’s skin.

“Wait, Angel,” Max murmurs, his voice gentle but insistent. “–sunscreen on your front now.”

Logan, still half-asleep, grumbles into Max’s neck, “Who cares?”

Max’s grip tightens slightly around Logan’s waist as he chuckles softly. “I do, Angel. I love it when you flush red for me. How will I see your pretty little blush if you’re burnt?”

Logan, still foggy from his nap, only picks up on Max’s concern. With a sigh, he mutters, “Put it on me then.”

Max kisses his neck and grabs the sunscreen, smoothing it over Logan’s chest and shoulders, taking his time as his hands glide over the soft skin. Logan shivers slightly under the coolness of the lotion, feeling Max’s steady, deliberate touch as it spreads warmth in its wake.

The coolness wakes him up a little, and as he looks down, he sees Max’s long fingers and wide palm smoothing sunscreen over his lower stomach. The visual is enough to send arousal pooling in his navel, intensifying with each pass of Max’s fingers through his happy trail. Soon, Max bends his legs to apply sunscreen over them without needing to unplaster himself from Logan’s back.

Once he’s done, Logan realises just how compromising their position is if anyone were to climb back on board. With his thighs bent on either side of Max’s legs and his chest and head reclined against the older man’s body, it makes Logan’s breath hitch. He instinctively hides his face in Max’s neck.

Max picks up on it, dragging his hands from Logan’s thighs up his side before wrapping his arms around his chest, squeezing, grounding Logan briefly. “What’s wrong, Angel? Too much?” 

Still hiding his face, Logan manages a shake of his head, whispering, “No, m-more, p-please.” The request hangs in the air, making the atmosphere between them thick with unspoken tension.

Chapter 1 - Angel

Chapter 2 - Hunter?

[vitalverstappen]

all works are completely fictional and owned by me. please do not copy, share, or repost my work on any other sites without my explicit consent. enjoy :-)

the tortured drivers' department masterlist

F. Colapinto: coming soon!

P. Gasly:

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

C. Leclerc:

Homecoming // smau

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

L. Norris:

Just Pretend

O. Piastri:

I Look In People's Windows

D. Ricciardo:

How Do I Do This?

The Tortured Poets Department

G. Russell:

To Be Your Muse // smau

C. Sainz:

House Rules

L. Sargeant: coming soon!

M. Verstappen:

Flash Forward // part one // part two

[sv5sam]

Why tf are Williams acting like red bull?

Like lil bro ur car is slow as a tractor and u have the budget of an elementary school play YOU CAN NOT HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ACT LIKE THAT lol

[warcriminalpastry]

OSCAR TEXTED LOGAN TO CHECK IF HE WAS OKAY?????????

[sainzofthetimez]

Meanwhile at Williams HQ

[loganshouseofworship]

REQUESTING LOGAN FLUFF!!!!!!!!!

Imagine him with a goth girlie (you don't have to adhere to this specifically, this is just a thought, feel free to disregard this aesthetic BUT PLEASE WRITE LOGAN FLUFF)

A/n— I have been racking my brain trying to figure out how to write a fic for this and I can’t figure it out but I have head canons im sorry I really am 😭😭

Also I based these head-canons off of my old friend ash she was a goth girlie who looked mean but was really nice and cool to hang out with.

Logan sergeant x goth!reader

Logan loved how you weren’t afraid to stand out

He also loved how you speak up for everyone who had trouble speaking up for themselves

Especially when you did it for him

If a restaurant messed up Logan’s order you’d immediately say something for him

example “excuse me he asked for no pickles”

Logan called you his Rottweiler/black cat girlfriend

because you looked mean and had a nasty case of RBF (resting bitch face) but you were a softy at heart

Logan was a golden retriever he balanced out your grumpiness

Logan also loved how genuine you were

Even though you dressed in all black and joked about having a pitch black soul

Logan saw behind the dark clothes and black makeup

He knew that you had a heart of gold

He also knew that deep down he always knew that he would end up with a goth girlie

ever since watching Scooby doo! — and the Witches ghost as a kid and laid eyes on the Hex girls he was hooked

Logan didn’t care if you were conventionally attractive by today’s beauty standards he still loved you

And that’s all that mattered to and him

He was sunshine and you were midnight rain

[loonylupinblack3]

Formula One Masterlist

CHARLES LECLERC

Series

All For Nothing, After Everything

Wrong Number (only on wattpad)

Oneshots

Home race

CARLOS SAINZ

Winner

MAX VERSTAPPEN

Overprotective

A Bad Race

LANDO NORRIS

First Win

Aftermath

Drunk Antics

MARK WEBBER

Early Mornings

Mark Webber

F1 GRID

f1 grid reacting

[pit-2-podium]

The ongoing saga of the canadain groundhogs

- the canadain grand prix 2024 via various teams instagrams

[eloriis]

i’ve been sobbing for the last two hours cuz i didn’t get to cry when i found out logan is getting replaced for the rest of the season :(

i just feel so bad for him and i just saw alex’s post for him and bro i think i just felt my heart crack and melt at the same time. it just feels so heavy right now and i just want to give logan a tight hug for being strong this entire time :(

i just wish williams atleast told him and he didn’t have to find out this way because if they didn’t…when i’m rich enough to buy a paddock pass, williams better be ready. no matter how many years it’ll take me.

i just hope that logan knows that he has so many people who are going to be there for him and support him no matter what he chooses to do in his life, we will always be there for him ❤️‍🩹

[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 5. - Twister

All twisted up ft. Fernando being a menace

Author's note: This one is even worse, I promise I'll go touch grass. 18+ DNI Otherwise.

Soon, everyone had taken their turn spinning the bottle, and Logan found himself sitting next to Max as the group shuffled around. When the bottle lands on Logan, spun by Charles, he quickly blurts out, “Truth!” before Charles can even finish asking.

Charles grins widely, making Logan regret his choice. “Perfect! Now, what were you and Max doing on the boat before you suddenly went for a swim? No lies, cheri .”

Logan glances at Max, who just pulls him a little closer by the waist. “N-nothing! He was just putting sunscreen on me, right Max?” Logan shoots Max a pleading look.

Max nods, “Yeah, just making sure he didn’t get a sunburn.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Sunscreen? Is that what we’re calling it now? And did he rub this sunscreen on you?” he adds with a wink.

Even though Charles is close to the mark, Logan insists for his own sake of mind, “It’s the truth!”

“Alright, alright, I get it— lingo,” Charles teases, winking again as a few people chuckle.

As the laughter dies down from Logan’s truth, the bottle spun again, it lands on Carlos. On his fourth turn now, he confidently picks a dare from Fernando, whose scheming smile makes Charles’s earlier grin look modest by comparison.

Fernando strokes his chin playfully, pretending to think, his eyes glinting with mischief as he announces, “Kiss the person on your right, but you have to kiss longer than that little display from Alex and Oscar.”

Looking at Charles, Fernando asks, “How long was theirs?” Charles glances at Fernando, understanding the ploy. “Bouff, I think it was more than a minute, no? Tough competition, Carlito.”

Charles and Fernando exchange twin shark smiles as they look at their friend. Waiting to see what he’ll do. 

Carlos nods seriously and points at them. “Fine, time it then, Charles, 90 seconds.” He then turns to his right to look at George, whose eyes widen slightly, showing either his surprise at Carlos’s acceptance or his own excitement.

Logan glances at his two best friends and notices how tense they are—Oscar alert on Alex’s lap, and Alex sitting straight-backed and focused.

Carlos moves closer to George, cupping his cheek and softly asking, “Okay?” George gives a jerky nod in response. “Words, Princesa ,” Carlos gently reminds him, his thumb stroking George’s cheek while his fingers spread around his neck. “Ye-yes,” George stammers. Grinning, Carlos leans in.

Carlos’s large, tan hand against George’s pale face is already a striking image, but when their faces meet and a flush blooms across George’s cheeks, it's even hotter. 

Closing the distance, his lips meet George’s with a heat that’s both unexpected and overwhelming. One hand grips the back of George’s neck, while the other slides to his waist, pulling him closer on the floor, their knees bumping as Carlos deepens the kiss.

George’s breath stutters, his half-unbuttoned shirt falling open as Carlos tugs him in, pressing their bodies together. Carlos kisses him with an intense, devouring hunger, his lips firm and unrelenting. George’s hands instinctively clutch at Carlos’s arms for balance, overwhelmed by the intensity. Carlos’s tongue slips into his mouth, exploring, claiming, leaving George gasping and flushed. A soft whimper escapes him only to be instantly swallowed by Carlos, whose grip tightens as he pulls George closer by his waist, their hips brushing.

The heat from George’s face spreads down his neck and onto his exposed chest, the flush deepening with each passing second. Carlos’s hand, firm on his waist, holds him close, making George arch against him, helpless under the raw force of Carlos’s kiss. The closeness, the pressure of Carlos’s hand on his bare skin, sends a shock of heat through him.

Charles’ watch begins to trill, signalling their ninety seconds are up.

Carlos finally pulls back, leaving both of them panting, their lips swollen and red. George’s chest heaves, his skin flushed, eyes dazed with building arousal. Carlos hovers close, his nose brushing George’s cheek as his thumb strokes just beneath the hem of George’s open shirt.

With a wolfish grin, Carlos asks, “I think we won, no?” His voice low and husky, betraying his own arousal.

Fernando, hands raised in mock surrender, fixes his expression into his signature no idea look, then quickly points toward Oscar, who’s nearly toppling forward from his perch as he unconsciously leaned in closer while Carlos and George kissed. “There’s your answer then, sobrino ,” Fernando quips, sparking laughter from the group.

Carlos and George, still catching their breath, shift their focus toward Oscar and Alex, their stares pointed and heated.

“Okay, seriously, what is going on?” Daniel says incredulously. “Have I just been oblivious, or is this the night everyone explores their sexual tension? Because there will be no orgies in this lake house—my nonna comes here! She even likes it here!” He surveys his friends with shocked eyes and hands on his hips. “And you two—stop it with the dares!” He points at Charles and Fernando, who look like two kids caught with their hands in the candy jar. 

“We said kiss! For 60 seconds and longer, right? Fernando, didn’t we? We never said dare you to eat each other! That was their heart's desire. We would have settled for a simple press of lips.” Charles argues, despite the guilty look on his face.

“Game’s over, you horn dogs! And no Twister either! I don’t trust you,” Danny announces, standing up and wagging a finger at the group. “Drink, dance, but no more defiling this living room with your saliva. My grandmother’s old-school Italian—she has a sixth sense for where people have tried to make babies. Trust me, I know. She never stepped foot in my car in high school without laying down a tissue first.”

Chuckling, Max leans into Logan and adds, “His Nonna would always pray whenever she got in the car too.”

“No way! Was it really that bad, or was it... a sex car ?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow.

Max smirks. “Let’s just say he and his sister had to share a room until university.” 

“Oh. Gross,” Logan grimaces.

Max grins and stands, offering his hand to Logan. “Come on, Angel, let’s go find something else to do that isn’t Twister.”

—---------- 

As the party winds down and more people start to drift away, Danny, his girlfriend, and surprisingly Fernando help usher everyone to their rooms or any available spots to sleep.

Max leads Logan to a room, explaining it’s his when he stays at the house. A flutter of excitement stirs in Logan at the thought of spending the night beside him. But as they brush their teeth together, Logan can’t fight the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. He manages just enough energy to slip out of his jeans and slide under the covers. Max follows, slipping an arm around Logan’s waist, and with a contented sigh, Logan's eyes flutter closed, drifting off with Max's warmth pressed against him.

—---------- 

When Logan’s eyes flutter open, Max is still behind him, holding him close, his head resting against the back of Logan’s neck. As Logan tries to shift away, careful not to wake him, Max's arms tighten around him, a muffled “Angel?” murmured against his neck.

Logan pauses, his heart skipping at the sleepy endearment. He settles back into Max’s chest as Max hums in response, his grip loosening but still holding on. Pressing a kiss to Logan’s neck, Max rolls onto his back, pulling Logan on top of him.

Max looks down at Logan with soft, sleep-filled eyes, his lips puffy and hair mussed. One hand reaches up to smooth Logan’s hair. “You look like a little chick, Angel, all fuzzy with your golden hair,” Max chuckles at his own observation. Logan just hides his smile against Max’s chest, the cool metal of his cross necklace brushing against his warming cheeks.

He lifts his head to meet Max’s gaze. “Not talkative in the mornings, are you, Angel?”

Logan, soft from sleep, shakes his head gently, a small smile playing on his lips as Max’s fingers continue to stroke through his hair, their eyes locked in a quiet moment. A question, in Max’s eyes. Then, with a gentle pull, Max brings Logan’s face closer, brushing their lips together in a soft, tentative kiss. Their first.

Logan melts into the kiss, eagerly pressing back against Max. Max’s hand slides to the nape of Logan’s neck, deepening the kiss as their mouths move slowly, savouring the connection. Logan shifts, pressing more fully against Max’s chest, his legs wrapping around Max’s thigh, pulling himself closer.

Logan feels a rush of need as he rolls his hips against Max. Max reacts instantly, fingers tangling in Logan's hair, tilting his head back to kiss him deeper. Their breaths grow heavier, punctuated by Logan’s soft gasps as Max's other hand slips under his shirt, warm palm gliding over the smooth skin of his lower back.

With a teasing touch, Max's fingers press lower, sending shivers through Logan. He arches into him, craving more as their bodies move together, each subtle shift igniting sparks of pleasure. Breaking apart, he whimpers into Max’s mouth, “Please, Maxie, need more,” his voice a soft plea, wide eyes filled with desire.

Max’s grip tightens as he shifts both hands to palm Logan’s ass, guiding his rolling hips against him. Logan whines softly, tugging at his shirt, desperate to shed the barrier between them. “Off, please,” he breathes, voice shaky. Max responds instantly, pulling the fabric over Logan's head and tossing it aside, exposing his skin to the warm air. The sensation of Max’s body against him intensifies. Logan’s heart races as Max’s hands explore his bare back, sending shivers down his spine.

His world fades, leaving only the intoxicating presence of Max. All he can think, breathe, and feel is Max. Max pulls him up higher on his thigh, hands gliding up Logan’s body, brushing over his nipples.

Logan whines, throwing his head back, pushing his chest against Max’s hands. He feels frenzied with desire. There’s a noticeable wetness where his cock head rests in his briefs, steadily leaking. Logan grinds against Max, desperate for more. “Please, Maxie…” he gasps, lost in overwhelming sensations. He’s babbling now, pleading, “Need–,” chanting “more, more, more” between kisses.

Max suddenly flips him onto his back, his legs falling open at the change in position. Crying out at the contact as Max slots his thick, muscular thigh between Logan’s legs, pressing it against him. 

Max leans down, mouth brushing against Logan’s, their breaths mingling as he whispers, “Still need more, Angel?” Logan nods, eyes filled with need. The friction of Max’s thigh sending delicious shivers down his spine.

Keening at the sensation, Logan arches his back, craving more as he grips Max’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Max’s mouth moves to Logan’s nipple, wrapping around it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. Clutching Max’s head, he tries to keep him against his chest. While Max’s hands guide him against his thigh, hands obscene where they wrap around his hips. The pressure builds inside Logan, pushing him closer to the edge as he writhes in need.

With a loud keen, Logan arches his head back, overwhelmed. “Ma-Maxie, kiss me,” he demands, and Max eagerly complies, capturing Logan’s lips, deep and devouring.

Pulling back slightly, Max’s breath is warm against Logan’s skin. “You’re such a good boy for me,” he whispers, a teasing smile on his lips. The words thrill Logan, making him crave more. “For you, only you,” Logan garbles, pressing his hips down against Max’s thigh, desperate for friction.

“Yeah? You’re my baby boy,” Max replies, voice low as he leans back in, kissing Logan deeply again. Each touch ignites a fire within Logan, pushing him closer to the edge. “Just keep moving for me, Angel,” Max encourages, guiding Logan’s movements as he grinds against him.

Logan's body instinctively chases the pleasure. Each thrust against Max’s thigh drives him wild, craving more, wanting to drown in everything Max gives him. 

But Logan feels crazed at the torturously slow pace Max has set. Clutching at Max’s arm, he feels deliriously aroused. “Please, Maxie, ju-just touch me. I’ll be good,” he whimpers, garbled promises spilling from his lips. He needs more.

Looking up at Max, he sees the intensity in his stare. “Show me what you need, Angel,” Max asks, his voice gruff and low. Logan reaches for one of Max’s hands on his hips, pulling it toward his aching cock.

Max’s hand is teasing yet claiming as he places it on Logan’s navel, almost covering the area. He pushes it down slowly, guiding it to where Logan desperately needs him. Logan tries to push up against Max’s hand, craving friction. “-ff, Off, Maxie, please,” he gasps.

Max looks back up at him, eyes searching. “Are you sure, Angel?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

“Yes! Please, or I’ll cry,” Logan pleads, his voice trembling with need. The urgency in his tone drives Max to finally give in, moving his hand to where Logan aches the most. Logan’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Max push down his briefs, his large hands skillfully pulling them off his legs.

The cool air hits Logan’s skin, heightening his senses as he feels Max’s warm calloused palm wrap around him, relief flooding through him as the pressure eases. It doesn’t take much; his precum makes the slide in Max’s fist slick and smooth. Logan gasps, his body responding instinctively to the sensation, his hips bucking slightly as Max begins to move, slowly at first.

“Easy, Angel,” Max murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he matches the pace to Logan’s desperate gasps. Each stroke is deliberate, building the tension within him, making Logan writhe in need. “Tell me how it feels,” Max urges, his grip firm yet gentle, keeping Logan anchored as the pleasure swells.

“Wish you were inside,” Logan gasps, his voice trembling as he whines, his back arching at each stroke. His tongue feels thick, heavy with need, and he manages to stammer, “Can’t wait, wanna feel you…” followed by a hiccup, “all the time.”

Max’s eyes darken with hunger, his grip tightening just enough to send another jolt of pleasure through Logan. “You will, Angel,” he promises, his voice low and filled with heat. “When I have you all to myself, not here.”

He quickens his pace slightly, coaxing Logan closer to that sweet release. The tension builds like a coil, ready to snap at any moment, and Logan can feel the heat pooling deep inside him. Each stroke pushes him closer to the edge, the sensations washing over him like waves, leaving him breathless and craving more. “Maxie, please,” he whimpers, lost in the moment, his body responding eagerly to every touch.

As Max maintains his rhythm, Logan feels the tension build to an unbearable peak. The pleasure overwhelms him, and suddenly, he can't hold back any longer. Moans spill from his lips, high-pitched and desperate, filling the room with sound.

“Maxie!” he gasps, his voice trembling as he arches his back, his body responding eagerly to the relentless strokes, his hands clutching at the bedding. The feeling is too intense, and he can’t help but whimper and keen, each sound more frantic than the last. 

“Angel, shh,” Max urges, his voice a husky whisper as he presses a hand over Logan’s mouth, trying to muffle the sounds. “We don’t want anyone to hear you, do we Angel?”

Logan nods, eyes wide with need, but the pressure inside him is building, and he can’t help but whimper against Max’s hand. He tries to quiet himself, but each stroke makes it harder. “Max!” he cries out, unable to hold back the sound, the desperation in his tone echoing in the room.

“You can do it, Angel,” Max murmurs, his hand stroking Logan’s cheek. 

Logan feels the heat coiling tighter, the world around him fading away again until it’s just him and Max. “I can’t… I’m gonna—” he stammers, feeling the familiar rush of his impending orgasm.

“Let go, Angel,” Max encourages, his voice low and steady, the sound wrapping around Logan like a promise. “I’ve got you.”

With a few more strokes, the tension snaps, and Logan cries out, his voice muffled but desperate as he comes undone beneath Max. “Maxie!” he moans, the waves of pleasure crashing over him, leaving him breathless and trembling.

Max keeps his hand pressed over Logan’s mouth, his other hand never faltering in its movements, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from Logan’s body. “That’s it, good boy,” he whispers, his voice thick with satisfaction until Logan is shuddering through his orgasm, feeling completely lost in the moment.

As the pleasure begins to fade, Logan collapses against the pillows, panting and spent, the warmth of Max’s body anchoring him in the afterglow. Max’s hand slowly retreats, brushing Logan’s hair back as he whispers, “You did so good, Angel.”

Logan feels soft—boneless in the aftermath, his heart racing as he looks up at Max, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Max gazes back at him, warmth in his eyes, before moving to the ensuite. He returns with a wet towel, gently cleaning him up, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Mmm, need a shower now,” Logan mumbles into the pillow, the warmth of the towel contrasting with the cool air.

Max chuckles softly, his fingers gliding over Logan’s skin. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then,” he replies, his voice low and inviting. He finishes up and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Logan’s forehead.

“Shall we hop in the shower together?” Max asks, a playful glint in his eye.

Logan’s heart skips at the thought. “Yes, please,” he replies, a shy smile spreading across his face.

Max offers his hand, helping Logan up from the bed.

Afterwards, Max dresses Logan in one of his own T-shirts and a pair of boxers, the fabric soft and comforting against Logan's skin. As he helps Logan pull his jeans up, there’s a gentle care in his movements, as if he’s handling something precious.

“Got it, Angel?” Max asks playfully, a teasing smile on his lips.

Logan chuckles softly, feeling the warmth of their shared moments lingering in the air. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replies, though he leans into Max’s touch, enjoying the intimacy of the moment.

They bask in each other's presence, wrapped in their bubble of comfort and affection, the simple joy of being together before they have to venture outside. Max leans down, brushing his lips against Logan’s neck, grounding them both in the sweetness of the morning.

—------- 

As they enter the kitchen, they find Fernando buttering his toast way too happily. “Good morning, Logan! Maxie! Did you have a good rest—or should I say, good morning?” he asks, hiding a grin as he bites into his toast.

Realizing Fernando must have heard a bit of their morning, Logan coughs and stutters out a polite, “Yes, and yourself?” completely ignoring Fernando’s hint. Max just chuckles and moves to make himself an espresso, turning to ask Logan if he’d like one too. “Sure, Max,” Logan answers softly.

“Oh, actually, Fernando! Do you know which room Oscar and Alex stayed in last night?” Logan asks, remembering Fernando was one of the people allocating spots.

Fernando’s eyes shine for a moment. “Why, yes! They’re down the hall, two doors down from you and Max’s room, but I wouldn’t go in there if I were you… I’d let them come out.” His grin is almost maniacal.

“Uh, okay,” Logan decides, scared to see what Fernando means.

But he doesn’t have to wait long, as both his best friends slowly make their way into the kitchen, still half-asleep. This isn’t surprising, but the bruises littering their necks and the shirts they’re wearing—definitely not what they had on last night—catch his attention. It’s as if they pulled on the first things they found off the floor as soon as they smelled coffee.

As they crowd around Max and the coffee machine, Logan hears another set of footsteps patter into the kitchen. It’s George and Carlos—oh my god—in a similar state of dress. George yawns widely, his hair tousled, and as he slumps into a seat, Logan notices how Carlos moves closer, casually resting a hand on George’s shoulder.

As Carlos passes the fridge, he sweeps a hand against Oscar’s back while another brushes down Alex’s, the easy intimacy between them clearly evident. The four of them together like this is a stark contrast to the dynamics from yesterday.

Logan, still processing, looks toward Fernando, who is smiling wolfishly. Suddenly, it makes sense why Fernando helped allocate sleeping arrangements; he no doubt placed those four together the previous night.

Logan feels a smug satisfaction as he recalls his earlier words to Oscar about possibly having both men in his bed—now it’s three.

He returns Fernando’s grin.