𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 — ls2 + op81
logan sargeant x !albon golfer reader x oscar piastri (smau/written)
you’ve grown up with the sound of engines and the smell of freshly cut fairways — part golf prodigy, part paddock regular. alex always says you belong in both worlds: quiet greens and roaring circuits. it’s probably why you get along so well with lily, who’s become your best friend and unofficial doubles partner — and why you’ve somehow ended up as a small fixture in the f1 paddock.
everyone knows you as the albon sister who can sink a birdie from thirty feet away — friendly with most drivers, especially the 2019 rookie bunch. but lately, two faces have stood out more than the rest.
logan, with his easy smile and shameless jokes, who treats you like you’ve been friends forever. and oscar, who never says much but always seems to be standing next to you — quiet, sharp-eyed, and far too good at listening.
you don’t realize how closely they orbit you until lando teases you about it. you laugh it off and ignore him. but if you paid attention, you’d notice how often logan’s eyes linger on both you and oscar — as if he can’t quite decide who he’s more drawn to. he never had to choose. you did it for him.
fc : denise julia
(day 14 of chef's tea party series!) (obvs logan is still in f1 in this fic! everyone say YAYYY.) (carlos back to ferrari, lewis at merc and kimi in reserve.) (also changed up my spacing again bc i think i like this more and it saves more time during editing, lmk what yall like!)
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yn_albon
liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, alexandrasaintmleux, logansargeant, lando and 1,560,000 others.
yn_albon : recents w my brother (🤮) and the love of my life (@/lilymhe)
tagged : alex_albon and lilymhe
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view 55,000 other comments.
lilymhe : my fave albon🤍 love you forever
liked by yn_albon
↳ yn_albon : love you even moreeee
liked by lilymhe
↳ alex_albon : between this and the caption...i feel so loved guys.
liked by lilymhe and yn_albon
↳ yn_albon : its called character building alexander
liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, lando and georgerussell63
↳ lilymhe : he is just jealous that im featured more on your instagram than he is
liked by yn_albon, alex_albon and lando
↳ yn_albon : get a better swing then @/alex_albon
liked by lando, lilymhe and alex_albon
↳ lando : yeah mate, for having a girlfriend and a sister who are professionals... you suck.
liked by yn_albon, lilymhe and carlossainz55
↳ alex_albon : who asked YOU😭
liked by yn_albon, lilymhe and lando
oscarpiastri : great photos 👍
liked by yn_albon and lando
↳ yn_albon : thank you oscar 👍
liked by oscarpiastri
↳ lando : way to get in there mate
↳ oscarpiastri : yet again who asked YOU
liked by lando and alex_albon
lando : carlos and i want doubles match against you and lily. (we know we will lose. just indulge us pls)
liked by yn_albon, carlossainz55 and lilymhe
↳ lilymhe : we accept surrenders in advance
liked by yn_albon, carlossainz55 and lando
↳ yn_albon : ive already recruited george and alex as caddies
liked by lando, carlossainz55, lilymhe, alex_albon and georgerussell63
alexandrasaintmleux : beautiful ladies ❤️🔥
liked by yn_albon and lilymhe
logansargeant : suddenly in need of golf lessons from you
liked by yn_albon
↳ yn_albon : im free any day that ends in y
liked by logansargeant and lilymhe
↳ alex_albon : logan.
liked by lando, yn_albon, logansargeant and lilymhe
↳ yn_albon : relax, old man.
liked by lilymhe, lando and logansargeant
carmenmmundt : you look UNREAL in blue 🩵
liked by yn_albon and logansargeant
username00 : THE ALBON SIBLING CHAOS IS BACKKK
username007 : oscar’s “great photos 👍” comment is so him i can’t breathe
↳ username001 : logan's horrible flirting and alex scolding him has me on the floor
username005 : oh i love her and lily so bad
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The sun was already dipping behind the trees when you and Lily finished your last set. The court lights glowed golden against the deepening evening, and your arms ached in that deeply satisfying way that only came from a match well played.
“Remind me,” Lily said between sips of her electrolyte drink, “why exactly did we tell Alex we couldn’t make it to Singapore again?”
You smirked, wiping the sweat from your temple. “Because he’d panic and tell us to stay home and rest, and then complain that his ‘two favorite distractions’ weren't there to watch him.”
Lily giggled, reaching for her phone. “He’s so dramatic.”
“He’s an Albon,” you said simply, laughing when she lightly smacked your arm with her towel. “We all are. And besides—our flight’s in three hours. He’ll live.”
The two of you lingered on the course a little longer, the world quiet around you except for the squeak of birds and the occasional hum of a golf cart nearby. You’d both played ridiculously well— It felt easy, like it always did with Lily.
She’d become your best friend the moment you played together for the first time—a shared love of sport, of travel, of teasing Alex mercilessly. What started as a golfing friendship turned into something deeper: the kind of sisterhood that came with shared hotel rooms and whispered conversations about love and life at 2 a.m.
When you finally boarded the small jet—just the two of you, both wrapped in hoodies and still buzzing from adrenaline—you couldn’t stop grinning. Lily curled up across from you, makeup-free and glowing.
“He’s going to freak out,” she said, smile sleepy but giddy.
“Exactly the point,” you said, taking a photo of her half-asleep with her golf visor still tucked into her hoodie. “Worth every minute of jet lag.”
You landed in Singapore just as the first rays of sunlight broke over the skyline. The humidity hit instantly—thick, warm, and familiar. Lily yawned as she dragged her carry-on behind her.
“Why do I feel like I’m walking into an ambush?”
“Because you are,” you replied cheerfully. “An Albon ambush.”
The hotel was already bustling with Williams team personnel when you walked in, sunglasses perched high, coffee in hand. You and Lily barely had time to shower and change before you were doing your makeup side by side in the bathroom mirror—soft glam for you, bronzy glow for her.
“I’m going to cry when I see his face,” Lily said, fluffing her hair.
“You’re going to cry because you only got four hours of sleep,” you countered, fixing your lip gloss.
Downstairs, the team’s breakfast area was full of blue polos and chatter. You spotted Alex instantly—hair still messy, half zipped into his Williams top, a plate of fruit and toast in front of him. He was talking to a few engineers, laughing about something.
Lily nudged you. “Go on. Let’s ruin his peace.”
You sauntered up behind him and reached up to placed your hands dramatically on his shoulders. “Heard you were having breakfast with some strangers.”
Alex froze, then turned around so fast he nearly knocked over his orange juice. His expression was priceless: wide eyes, a half-formed “What the—?” and then that pure, boyish grin that you hadn’t seen in weeks.
“You’re here?!” He stood up so fast his chair squeaked. “I thought you were in the middle of your tournament!”
“We were,” you said, gesturing to Lily. “And then we finished our doubles match, hopped on a jet, and came here. Surprise.”
He blinked, utterly stunned. “You’re insane.”
“Insanely supportive,” Lily corrected, giving him a hug and small kiss.
Alex laughed, shaking his head as he hugged you too. “I swear, between the two of you, I’m never going to have a calm day in my life.”
“That’s the point,” you teased.
A few hours later, you and Lily made your way to the paddock—both of you dressed to perfection, sunglasses on, heat shimmering off the asphalt. Cameras turned almost immediately; people recognized you both from the golf world and from being, well, you.
Inside the Williams garage, Logan was tugging on his gloves when he spotted you through the reflective wall. His expression flipped from concentration to pure surprise.
“No way,” he said, grinning as you approached. “You said you weren’t coming!”
“That was a lie,” you said simply, laughing as he pulled you into a friendly hug. “We wanted to surprise Alex.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” Logan said, shooting a glance toward the monitors where Alex’s name blinked across telemetry. “I heard he nearly flipped the table when he saw you two.”
You were about to respond when another voice joined in.
“Should’ve guessed,” Oscar said lightly, hands in his pockets, water bottle tucked under one arm. He’d clearly come by for a chat— a relaxed smile and that calm, quiet energy that always made your chest tighten unexpectedly.
“Hi, Oscar,” you greeted, matching his smile.
“Hi,” he said softly. “You always seem to show up at the right time.”
Logan leaned closer to you, whispering loudly, “And by ‘right time,’ he means ‘right before qualifying,’ when everyone’s nerves are shot.’”
Oscar rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. “Exactly.”
You laughed, and for a second it felt like all the noise around you dulled. Just the three of you—familiar, easy, light.
Qualifying went better than anyone expected. Alex comfortably made Q3, Logan right behind him, Oscar solidly in the mix. You and Lily cheered from the hospitality suite, clutching each other’s hands and yelling through every lap.
By the end, when the timing screens froze and the Williams garage erupted in applause, you couldn’t stop grinning. It wasn’t just pride for Alex—it was for all of them.
When you went down afterward, the air was electric. Logan spotted you first, still in his suit, hair damp with sweat.
“Guess your surprise worked,” he said breathlessly, leaning against the wall near the entrance. “Best quali of my life.”
“Clearly, I’m your good luck charm,” you teased.
Oscar appeared beside him then, helmet dangling from his fingers. “You might be onto something,” he said with a small smile. His gaze lingered on you just long enough for your heartbeat to trip.
“I’ll invoice you both later,” you said with a wink, walking past as Lily caught up.
Behind you, you could hear Logan murmur something about “trouble” and Oscar’s quiet laugh in response.
That night, the three of you—Alex, Lily, and you—sat at a quiet restaurant overlooking the city. Alex was still glowing from qualifying, practically bouncing in his chair as he talked about strategy.
Eventually, Lily nudged you under the table and whispered, “So… are we going to tell him?”
You stifled a laugh. “Tell him what?”
“That his teammate and the quiet Aussie both have heart eyes for his sister.”
You bit back a grin, but Alex caught the expression instantly. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Nothing,” you said too quickly.
Lily, of course, betrayed you immediately. “Logan and Oscar were very happy to see your sister today.”
Alex’s fork paused midair. “Excuse me?”
“Oh no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands. “Here we go.”
“They’re just being nice,” you said quickly.
“Nice?” Alex repeated, eyes narrowing. “Nice?”
“Relax, dad,” Lily said, laughing. “They just think she’s cute. And she thinks they’re—”
“Lily!” you hissed, but she was already giggling.
Alex looked between you two, completely scandalized. “No. Absolutely not. Not my teammate, and not Oscar Piastri.”
You raised a brow. “You realize I’m an adult, right?”
“Not when it comes to them you’re not!” he said, crossing his arms.
Lily snorted into her wine. “Oh my god, you sound like her chaperone.”
“Because I am her chaperone,” Alex muttered.
You and Lily exchanged a look, both fighting smiles, before saying in unison, “Whatever you say, Dad.”
Alex groaned, rubbing his face. “You two are insufferable.”
“And yet you love us,” you said sweetly.
He grumbled something incoherent, but his small smile gave him away.
You leaned back, the sound of dishes clinking and laughter mixing with the faint hum of the city outside. For a moment, everything felt easy—sun-warmed skin, full hearts, and the faint, lingering thrill of the paddock. Along with the thought of them.
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You, Lily, and Alex arrived at the paddock earlier than nearly anyone else—the sun still low, humidity already thick in the air. Alex was humming under his breath, doing that weird little walk-and-shake thing he always did before race day, part nerves and part ritual.
Lily nudged you with a grin. “He’s doing the pre-race chicken dance again.”
“Don’t mock the process,” Alex said, dramatically stretching his arms. “It’s scientifically proven to bring podiums.”
You rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure that was the car, not the dance.”
Still, you followed him into the Williams hospitality area, the smell of coffee and fresh pastries greeting you. The place was quiet—only a few engineers and mechanics milling around, the faint buzz of paddock prep in the distance.
“Ah, the Albon entourage,” came a familiar voice. James Vowles, crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, smile warm as ever. “You two are the only people who can make a 7 a.m. call time look like a photoshoot.”
Lily laughed, brushing a hand through her hair. “Flattery will get you everywhere, James.”
You greeted him with a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, James. How’s the chaos?”
“As organized as it gets,” he said, chuckling. “Actually—there’s something I wanted to ask you both.” He gestured toward a nearby table, and you followed. “Williams is hosting a charity golf event in two weeks—raising funds for children’s hospitals across Southeast Asia. I was hoping the two of you would host it on behalf of the team.”
You froze, looking at Lily, who was already grinning ear to ear.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “You want us to host?”
“I can’t think of two people better suited,” James said sincerely. “Between your golf credentials and your charm, you’d bring the crowd in easily.”
You blinked, heart flipping. “We’d be honored.”
“Over the moon,” Lily added.
James smiled. “Excellent. I’ll have comms send over the details this week. Now, go enjoy the morning before Alex’s stress levels rise.”
You groaned. “They already have.”
Later that morning, you found yourself outside in the shaded seating area of the paddock , sipping tea with George and Lando. They were mid argument about something to do with their choice of drink, which, as usual, was both ridiculous and entertaining.
“I’m telling you, mate,” Lando said, gesturing wildly with his straw, “electrolyte gummies are superior. You don’t spill them.”
George scoffed. “They taste like rubber bands. Tea is elite. Look at YN—she’s got taste.”
You smiled, stirring your tea. “Tea is the superior beverage, but I’m not sure it helps you survive Singapore heat.”
Lando leaned back. “See, you’re diplomatic. She’d make a great team principal.”
“Or a menace,” George added.
Before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the banter.
“Heard you were causing trouble before ten a.m.,” Logan said, approaching the table with his usual easy smile. His blue Williams polo was slightly wrinkled, hair still damp from the heat.
“Only harmless chaos,” you said, grinning. “What brings you here?”
He tilted his head. “Actually, I came to find you. Heard you’re hosting the Williams charity golf event?”
You blinked. “Word travels fast.”
“James just told the garage,” he said. “I’m going to be there—with Oscar as my plus one. But…” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “We might need a few lessons beforehand.”
You smirked, setting down your tea. “A few? How bad are we talking?”
“Let’s just say Oscar’s better at corners than swings.”
George snorted. “That’s one way to say you’re terrible.”
Lando leaned forward, grinning. “Careful, mate. Sounds like you’re just looking for excuses to spend time with YN. Albono won't like that one."
“Lando,” you warned, shaking your head with a laugh.
“What? Everyone can see it,” he said, pointing between you and Logan. “And Oscar. Double crush. It’s kind of iconic.”
You groaned, face in your hands, while George nodded solemnly. “It’s true. Two very handsome men visibly smitten. You could do worse.”
“Thank you for your analysis,” you said dryly, standing up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a brother to cheer for.”
Logan laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a yes on the lessons.”
“Text me,” you said with a wink before heading off with Lily, their laughter following you down the walkway.
By the time the race began, the grandstands were buzzing, the humidity shimmering in waves off the tarmac. You and Lily clung to each other as Alex fought tooth and nail for the podium—every lap, every corner a breath held.
“He’s really doing it,” Lily whispered, eyes wide as the Williams pit wall erupted around you.
“I think I’m going to cry,” you admitted, clutching her hand.
And then, across the line—P3.
The roar of the crowd was deafening. You barely had time to process before Alex was out of the car, sprinting straight toward you and Lily through the chaos. His helmet still on, he wrapped both of you in a bear hug so tight you almost lost your breath.
“You came all this way and it worked!” he shouted, voice muffled through the visor.
You laughed into his shoulder. “Maybe your dance worked, too.”
When he finally let go, you wiped at your eyes, only to spot two familiar figures walking toward you through the sea of blue uniforms.
Oscar and Logan, both sweaty, still half in their suits, both smiling in that exhausted, post-race way.
“P2 and P5,” you said as they approached. “Not bad.”
Oscar’s grin was small but genuine. “Guess your surprise visit brought luck to all of us.”
“Guess so,” you said, meeting his eyes for a moment that lingered too long.
Logan elbowed him lightly. “Told you she was the good luck charm.”
Lily leaned in, whispering, “Oh, they’re both gone for you.”
“Lily,” you hissed, but she just grinned.
The five of you stood there amid the noise and champagne and flashing cameras—Alex still laughing, Logan pulling him into a hug, Oscar looking quietly content. And for the first time all weekend, you felt that subtle pull in your chest again. Maybe it wasn’t just the adrenaline of the race. Maybe it was the beginning of something else entirely.
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You woke to sunlight spilling over the sheets, the quiet hum of your phone buzzing against the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you reached for it and squinted at the screen—a message from Logan.
Morning, coach. Breakfast in an hour? Then we’re hitting the course so you can fix our swings.
I already regret agreeing to this.
You love us. You’ll be patient.
Patient isn’t the word I’d use.
By the time you joined Logan and Oscar in the hotel’s breakfast lounge, the two were already mid-banter—Logan halfway through his coffee and Oscar sipping quietly on his smoothie, smirking like he’d been dragged into chaos against his will.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Logan called, waving you over dramatically. “We were about to send a search party.”
You dropped into the seat across from them. “You texted me fifteen minutes ago.”
Oscar looked up at you with that understated calm that always made Logan’s dramatics funnier. “He’s been vibrating since six. You’d think we were about to race.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Excuse me for being excited to get professional coaching from the best golfer on the planet.”
You grinned. “Flattery won’t make me go easy on you.”
Breakfast was easy, laughter threading through the conversation. Logan insisted on ordering a “power breakfast” and then drenched his waffles in syrup, while Oscar quietly observed, shaking his head. “You’re going to crash halfway through the first hole.”
When you all finally made it out to the course, the air was bright and clear, the morning still holding that soft chill that promised a perfect day. Logan was immediately in performance mode—spinning his club, posing, pretending to line up for imaginary photographers.
“Alright, coach,” he said with a grin. “Give us the rundown. How hard can it be?”
You crossed your arms. “Famous last words.”
Oscar stood beside you, hands in his pockets, watching the green with quiet curiosity. “I’ve played a few times,” he admitted. “Not well, though.”
You smiled. “Good. Then you’ll actually listen.”
Logan gasped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You ignored him and stepped closer, gently adjusting his grip on the club. “First off, stop holding it like a baseball bat.”
He looked down, mock-offended. “I was going for power.”
“You’re going to go for distance straight into the woods if you keep that up.”
Oscar snorted quietly, earning a glare from Logan. “Don’t laugh, Oz, you’re up next.”
When you turned to Oscar, he looked at you expectantly, patient and focused in that calm, analytical way he always was. You adjusted his stance, nudging his foot with yours. “There. You’re overthinking—relax a little.”
He breathed out a laugh, eyes flicking toward you. “You sound like my race engineer.”
“Do I need to start charging you for coaching too?”
His ball sailed cleanly onto the fairway. Logan groaned. “Oh, come on! Beginner’s luck.”
Oscar shrugged modestly. “Or maybe I’m just better.”
You laughed, stepping up to demonstrate. “Watch and learn.”
You let the club connect with that familiar, satisfying crack—the ball soaring effortlessly, landing just where you wanted it.
Logan clapped slowly. “Okay, yeah, that was hot.”
Oscar tilted his head, smiling softly. “You make it look easy.”
You turned back with a smirk. “It is easy. For me.”
The rest of the morning was a blend of chaos and charm. Logan tried trick shots and nearly took out a seagull. Oscar attempted to stay composed, but even he couldn’t help laughing when Logan’s ball ricocheted off a tree and landed back at his feet.
“Technically,” Logan said, unbothered, “that’s just… creative.”
Oscar muttered, “That’s physics having a personal vendetta against you.”
You doubled over laughing, tears stinging your eyes as you tried to correct their form again. “Okay, okay, focus—Logan, your stance. Oscar, you’re too tense again.”
Logan grinned at you. “You’re way too cute when you’re in teacher mode, you know that?”
Oscar looked up from his shot, smirk playing at his lips. “She’s also terrifying when you don’t listen.”
You feigned a glare. “Both true.”
By the time the sun started to dip, you were all sitting at the edge of the driving range, sipping cold drinks, the course bathed in gold. Logan sprawled out dramatically on the grass while Oscar leaned back against the fence beside you, relaxed in that quiet, understated way that made him hard to look away from.
“Alright, coach,” Logan said, “give us our grades.”
You sipped your drink, pretending to think. “Logan—C+. Oscar—B.”
Logan sat up. “What?! That’s outrageous. I brought energy!”
“You brought nonsense,” you corrected. “Oscar brought aim.”
Oscar smirked. “Fair assessment.”
You looked between them, laughter still bubbling in your chest. “For what it’s worth, you both did better than I expected.”
Logan grinned. “So you’re saying we have potential?”
You smiled. “I’m saying you didn’t completely embarrass me. That’s progress.”
Oscar chuckled softly beside you. “I’ll take that as a win.”
The day melted into evening, surrounded by laughter, sunlight, and two very different kinds of energy—one loud and chaotic, one quiet and magnetic—you couldn’t help but think: this was exactly the kind of perfect, messy balance you never knew you needed.
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The afternoon heat hung soft and golden over the padel courts, laughter echoing between the glass walls. You adjusted your ponytail, squinting up at Lando and George as they bickered over who got to serve first. Lily was next to you, grinning mischievously as Alex stood near the baseline with a whistle around his neck like some self-appointed referee.
“You’re taking this way too seriously,” you said, tossing a ball in his direction.
He caught it effortlessly. “You say that now, but I know how competitive you get. I’m just here to keep the peace.”
Lando snorted. “Between you two? There’s no peace when she gets involved.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you. “Don’t start with me, Norris. You still owe me from the last time we played.”
“That’s because you cheated!”
George laughed. “No, mate, she’s just better than you.”
Lily clapped her paddle against the court. “Okay, okay, less talk, more play. Let’s show the boys how it’s done.”
The first few rounds were all laughter and chaos. George, despite being the most serious at first, ended up flinging his paddle in a dramatic dive that had everyone doubled over. Lando couldn’t stop trash-talking, and Alex kept blowing his whistle at random intervals just to annoy everyone.
“Foul!” Alex called as Lily’s serve whizzed past Lando.
Lando looked over his shoulder, incredulous. “How was that a foul?!”
Alex shrugged. “Didn’t like your face in that moment. Looked guilty.”
“Ref bias!” Lando yelled.
You were doubled over laughing, clutching your stomach. “You’re the worst official ever, Alex.”
“Family discount,” he said, smirking.
After a while, you and Lily were leaning against the net, sweaty and happy, when George—the instigator and gossip he is —leaned casually on his paddle. “So… heard about your little golf outing the other day.”
You froze for a millisecond. “You heard wrong.”
Lando’s grin spread like wildfire. “Oh no, we didn’t. Oscar's been bragging about his ‘private lesson’ all week.”
Lily perked up immediately. “And Logan mentioned he might actually pick up golf now. Which is saying something, because I’ve been trying to get him to play for ages.”
Your eyes widened. “He said that?”
“Oh-ho!” Lando pointed dramatically. “She’s interested.”
“I am not!”
George laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “Come on, YN, two single, good looking drivers begging for your attention? Sounds like the plot of a very romantic movie.”
Lily gasped, putting on a fake serious tone. “Golfing with the Grid... A Love Story.”
You smacked her arm playfully. “You’re all ridiculous. It wasn’t a date.”
Alex, who’d been quietly watching, finally cut in with a disapproving frown. “Wait—Logan and Oscar? As in my teammate and Piastri? No. Absolutely not.”
“Oh god,” you groaned. “Here we go again.”
Alex crossed his arms. “They’re both drivers. They’re both—no. You don’t need that kind of energy in your life.”
Lando jumped in immediately. “You say that like she doesn’t already live for chaos.”
George nodded solemnly. “Honestly, mate, she handled the Norris-Russell dynamic better than most would. She can take two boys.”
You shot him a look. “That sounded way worse than you meant it to.”
George choked on his laughter. “No, no, I meant—”
Lando lost it completely, doubling over. Lily smacked his back with her paddle. “You’re making it worse!”
Alex just groaned into his hands. “You’re all children.”
But you could tell from the flush creeping up his neck that he was both mortified and trying not to smile.
Lily leaned toward you, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Okay, but seriously—if they both asked you out, who would you pick?”
You blinked. “Lily!”
“What? I’m just curious!”
“I—neither! It’s not like that!” you protested, even though your mind betrayed you with flashes from that morning—the way Logan’s grin had softened when he missed a shot, the quiet concentration in Oscar’s eyes when he adjusted his stance, the way both had looked at you like they were completely and utterly taken.
“Right,” Lily said teasingly, clearly unconvinced. “Totally not like that.”
Lando pointed his paddle at you dramatically. “Mark my words, YN Albon—there’s something there.”
Alex cut in, deadpan. “The only thing that’s there is me, standing between her and any driver on the grid.”
You raised a brow. “Including you?”
He sputtered. “That’s not the point!”
Lily and the boys broke into laughter, and even Alex eventually cracked, shaking his head.
“Alright,” he said finally, trying to regain control. “Game resumes. And for the record, if either of those idiots even looks at you funny, I’m—”
“You’ll do nothing,” you interrupted sweetly, twirling your paddle. “Because you adore them both and you know it.”
He glared, but the way his lips twitched told you you’d won.
The match resumed, laughter echoing into the late afternoon, sunlight spilling across the court as Lily smacked a clean shot past George and you couldn’t stop smiling. Because maybe it wasn’t a date, technically. But the way your heart fluttered when you thought of their smiles said otherwise—and you weren’t ready to admit it yet, not to them, not to anyone. Not even to yourself.
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a week later…
f1gossipgirls
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f1gossipgirls : today, williams held a golf charity match hosted by none other than yn albon and lily muni he! logan sargeant, alex albon, lando norris and oscar piastri all participated alongside the wonderful hosts. (they made the boys look horrible, i laughed the entire time)
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username09 : alex has his sister and his gf and he still golfs like that. crying
username88 : george as the caddy took me out.
username005 : yn helping logan and oscar with their swing but refusing to help lando and her brother PLEASEEE
username03 : none of them (except yn and lily) should ever be allowed to hold a club again.
↳ lando : i did GOOD.
↳ yn_albon : ok mr. 'i was in the bunker more than the green'
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The morning of the Williams charity golf match began with the kind of sunny, easy energy that promised a good day ahead. You and Lily had spent the earlier hours organizing details, making sure everyone had their clubs, badges, and matching polos. Between your easy banter and Lily’s magnetic charm, the two of you had quickly become the event’s heart—warm, approachable, and effortlessly composed even amidst the chaos of drivers who couldn’t tell a putter from a pitching wedge.
“Alright, everyone,” Lily announced brightly as she held a clipboard, “welcome to the first annual Williams Charity Golf Classic!”
You grinned, microphone in hand. “Remember, it’s for charity, so try not to take it too seriously.”
Lando immediately raised his hand. “Does that rule apply to Alex?”
“Absolutely not,” you said, deadpan, which earned a roar of laughter. Alex shot you a mock glare from across the green, already swinging his club like it was qualifying morning.
The teams were set: Alex and Lando—an unfortunately combustible mix—against Oscar and Logan, with George volunteering as the “neutral” caddy. You’d known that meant insanity, not neutrality.
George strutted past you in oversized sunglasses, holding a towel over his shoulder. “I expect tips for my wisdom and my patience.”
“Patience?” Lando laughed. “You?!”
“Exactly,” George said, smirking. “It’s a premium service.”
You and Lily spent the first hole mingling, chatting with sponsors and making sure the cameras caught a few good moments, but eventually you grabbed your own club. “Alright, I can’t just watch this circus. Lily, come on—we’re saving golf’s reputation.”
“Again,” she added with a grin.
When you walked up to Logan and Oscar’s group, both men visibly straightened. Logan leaned on his club, grin wide. “Fancy seeing you here, coach.”
Oscar’s smile was subtler, but no less warm. “You’re welcome to join. We could use the help.”
Lily nudged you with her elbow. “They mean they need your help.”
You laughed. “Oh, believe me, I’ve seen their form. It’s a charity event, but I’m starting to think we need an intervention.”
Logan groaned. “You wound me.”
You took his club gently, adjusting his grip. “See this? Too tight. Relax your shoulders, focus on your follow-through.”
He nodded, eyes locked on you more than the club. “Like this?”
“Better,” you said, smiling, and turned to Oscar. “You’re over-rotating your hips when you swing.”
His brows lifted slightly. “I am?”
“Yeah, here—” you stepped behind him, placing a hand on his waist to correct his stance. His breath caught almost imperceptibly, and you quickly stepped back, pretending not to notice the quiet flutter in your own chest. “Try that.”
He did. The ball sailed clean across the green, landing near the flag.
“See?” you said, proud.
Oscar smiled—small, shy, but absolutely delighted. “Guess I have a good teacher.”
Logan looked between you both and laughed. “Alright, this is rigged. Clearly, she’s got a favorite.”
You turned to him, teasing. “If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Oh, ouch,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart. “You’re cruel, Albon.”
“Only when I’m honest.”
Behind you, Lando’s voice rang out from the next hole. “Hey! What’s going on over there? I thought this was a golf match, not flirting practice!”
You glanced over to see him and Alex watching with amused suspicion. Alex’s arms were crossed, that familiar protective frown settling in.
“Oh no,” Lily muttered under her breath. “Dad mode activated.”
Sure enough, Alex called out, “YN! You’re supposed to be impartial!”
“I am!” you yelled back, hands on your hips. “I’m just helping charity!”
“Does charity have blue eyes and the other an Australian accent?” Lando added.
You threw your golf tee at him. “Shut it, Norris!”
By the time you reached the last few holes, the competition was tight—and the atmosphere even tighter. Logan and Oscar had somehow found a rhythm, their teamwork surprisingly solid. Alex and Lando, on the other hand, were arguing about who had sabotaged their putt.
“Lando, you literally breathed during my backswing,” Alex accused.
Lando looked offended. “Sorry for existing!”
George, lounging with a club over his shoulder, sighed dramatically. “If I had a pound for every time you two bickered, I’d buy my own team.”
You and Lily were in tears laughing, trying to call the game back to order.
When the final scores came in, you clapped your hands together. “And… against all odds, the winners are—Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri!”
The two men cheered, exchanging a quick high-five before turning to you.
“Clearly, it was all thanks to our secret weapon,” Logan said, slinging his arm over your shoulder.
Oscar’s voice was quieter, but full of amusement. “Yeah. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Alex groaned. “Oh, give me a break.”
Lando pointed at him. “Admit it, mate, we got beat fair and square.”
“By my sister’s coaching!”
You laughed, tugging Logan’s arm off gently. “Alright, boys, it’s just for fun. And charity. Remember?”
They all rolled their eyes, but the teasing eased into warmth.
As the sun dipped low, the crowd dispersed, and Logan caught your attention with a quiet smile. “Hey, we were gonna grab dinner tonight—me and Oscar. You should come with.”
You hesitated for half a heartbeat before nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
The restaurant they chose was tucked away on the quieter side of the city—dim lighting, low chatter, the scent of citrus and sea salt in the air. You sat by the window, the skyline reflecting off your wine glass.
Logan was his usual charming self, teasing you gently about your “teacher voice,” while Oscar added his dry, subtle humor between bites of pasta. You laughed until your cheeks hurt, trading stories about traveling, golf mishaps, and the strangest fan encounters.
And somewhere between laughter and the quiet, lingering looks, the world felt like it had shrunk to the three of you.
When the check came, Logan leaned back in his chair, smiling softly. “So, coach… when’s our next lesson?”
You tilted your head, matching his tone. “Depends. You planning on actually listening next time?”
Oscar smirked faintly, glancing at Logan before looking at you. “We’ll behave… mostly.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips.
Later, outside the restaurant, the humid night air wrapped around you. The city lights danced in the distance, and for a moment, everything felt suspended—the kind of calm that comes before something bigger.
Logan smiled as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for coming, YN. This was… nice.”
Oscar nodded, his voice low. “Really nice.”
You smiled back, heart beating faster than you wanted to admit. “It was. We should do it again sometime.”
Logan’s grin widened. “Careful, I’ll hold you to that.”
As you turned to head back to the car, their laughter followed you—warm, familiar, and something dangerously close to the beginning of whatever this was becoming.
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several weeks later...
yn_albon
liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 1,908,000 others.
yn_albon : 💚🌱☘️🐍
tagged : oscarpiastri, logansargeant, lilymhe and alex_albon
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lando : is that OSCAR PIASTRI I SEE 🗣️
↳ yn_albon : is that the BLOCK BUTTON I SEE 🗣️
↳ lando : i will behave. i am sorry
liked by yn_albon
georgerussell63 : your face in the 6th picture...someone has been taking classes at the george russell diva university
liked by yn_albon
↳ yn_albon : against my will, yes.
lilymhe : my baby 💚
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logansargeant : pretty girl 🤍
liked by yn_albon
oscarpiastri : 💚
liked by yn_albon
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Several weeks have passed, and you can no longer ignore it: the way your heart races when you see Logan’s grin, the quiet pull you feel when Oscar brushes past you, the warmth that spreads through you just being around both of them. You’ve been hanging out as much as possible, squeezing them into your life wherever you can, and now the truth is undeniable.
You sit across from Lily at the small table on the terrace café, golf bag leaning against your chair, iced tea sweating in your hands. The chatter from the course drifts around you, but you can barely focus. Lily watches you carefully, one eyebrow raised.
“You’re doing that face again,” she says, tilting her head.
“What face?” you ask, though you know she can see right through you.
“The I’m-pretending-I’m-fine-when-I’m-actually-a-mess face.” She leans closer, resting her chin on her hand. “Spill, now.”
You take a shaky breath, swirling the ice in your glass. “Okay… don’t freak out, but…I think I…like both of them. Logan and Oscar.” Your voice drops to a whisper at the end, as though saying it out loud makes it real.
Lily blinks at you, then grins knowingly. “Ah, I knew it. And here I thought you were just being dramatic.”
“No, I mean it,” you insist. “And I have no idea what to do. I can’t… I can’t choose, and I don’t want to choose. But I can’t stop thinking about either of them.”
Lily reaches over and squeezes your hand gently. “Okay… breathe. First, let’s not panic. You’re allowed to feel this, and we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone.”
You smile faintly, grateful, but your heart still feels heavy with worry. And then—your gaze shifts, and your stomach drops in the best kind of way.
Through the glass doors of the club lounge, you see Alex strolling in, a grin spreading across his face. And just behind him? Logan and Oscar.
“Surprise!” Alex calls, his voice teasing. “I was supposed to come alone, but apparently, these two couldn’t let me have all the fun.”
Logan winks at you as he steps forward, playful and warm. Oscar’s smile is softer, quieter, but no less intent. Your chest flutters, and you can feel your cheeks warming instantly.
“They weren’t supposed to be here,” you murmur to Lily, who simply grins.
“They’re here now,” she whispers back. “Go with it.”
Alex crosses his arms, pretending to scowl. “YN, they’re just here for moral support, obviously. Totally innocent.”
Logan leans against the wall, smirking. “I’m innocent. Mostly.”
Oscar nudges past him. “Yeah, we just wanted to make sure our favorite player had the best pep talk possible.”
You laugh nervously, your nerves now completely tangled with excitement. They all sit down across from you, and before long, the conversation turns into a soft, warm pep talk. Alex gives his signature big-brother encouragement, reminding you to trust your instincts and stay calm. Logan leans closer, teasing but reassuring, reminding you to enjoy yourself and that he’s got your back. Oscar is quiet, focused, helping you adjust your grip on your glove and smoothing the strap with an almost imperceptible tenderness.
“Here,” Oscar murmurs, sliding the glove over your hand. “Perfect. You’re ready.”
Logan crouches to fix your visor, fingers brushing against your temple. “There. You can’t see, but now I’ve got you covered. Go smash it out there.”
Your chest swells with warmth and nerves as they step back, and with Lily by your side, you step onto the course feeling unstoppable. The match begins, and you immediately fall into a rhythm with Lily. Your coordination is electric, each swing a perfect sync of energy and instinct. Laughter and friendly taunts echo across the course as Alex cheers from the sidelines.
Somewhere in between holes, you notice Logan and Oscar leaning against the fence, watching your every move with a mixture of admiration and quiet delight. Every glance, every subtle gesture, sends your heart racing. You can’t deny it anymore—you feel for both of them.
By the final hole, you and Lily have completely demolished your opponents. You high-five, laughing and out of breath, victorious and triumphant. Logan and Oscar cheer the loudest, and even Alex is clapping with a fake scowl that betrays his pride.
Later, you all walk back to the clubhouse to celebrate. Drinks and laughter abound, the golden light of the afternoon making everything feel warm and soft. Before you leave, you hesitate, then turn to the two of them.
“Hey… dinner tomorrow night. Just us?” you ask, heart racing.
They exchange a quick glance, playful and warm.
“Absolutely,” Logan says first, grinning.
Oscar’s calm smile mirrors his, but his eyes are bright. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
You smile, feeling that perfect mix of relief and anticipation, already imagining the quiet, private dinner ahead, where the tension, the teasing, and the warmth between all three of you will finally have the space to breathe. And as you leave the course that evening, your heart is impossibly full. You know that tomorrow night, everything will feel even more real.
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You wake up that morning feeling a mix of excitement and nerves that makes your stomach flutter. Lily is bustling around your apartment, plucking earrings off the counter and helping you decide between two silk midi dresses.
“Trust me,” she says, adjusting the hem of the pale champagne one, “this is the one. It’s elegant, soft, and, most importantly, you look like you.”
You glance down at the fabric, smoothing it over your hips, and manage a small laugh. “You always know what to do, don’t you?”
“I do. That’s why you keep me around,” she says, grinning. “Now, go! Hair, shoes, lipstick—let’s move before Alex starts interrogating you about every single detail.”
Sure enough, Alex is leaning against the doorframe with a mock-serious expression. “So… dinner with who, exactly?”
You roll your eyes and grin. “Nope. Can’t tell you. Totally secret.”
“Secret?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “YN—”
“Bye!” Lily squeals, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the car. Alex is left standing in the hallway, fists on his hips, shaking his head, muttering something about “absolutely ridiculous.”
The car ride is quiet, and you sit back against the leather seat, heart hammering. You requested the entire back room of the restaurant—small, intimate, candlelit, a table set perfectly for three. The quiet hum of the city outside the windows makes it feel like you’ve slipped into another world, one that exists only for you.
When you arrive, you’re momentarily breathless at the thought of what’s about to happen. Lily gives you an encouraging smile before she leaves you at the door, waving over her shoulder. “You’ve got this. Go get your happily ever after.”
You step in, and a few moments later, Logan and Oscar arrive almost simultaneously. Logan’s easy smile warms you instantly, while Oscar’s calm, steady gaze makes your chest flutter in a completely different way. They stand at the doorway for a second, taking you in—your dress, your smile, the slight nervous bite of your lip. You feel your cheeks heat, and they both grin softly.
“Hey,” Logan says, voice quiet but teasing. “You look amazing.”
Oscar steps closer, his hand brushing yours in a gentle, almost tentative way. “Absolutely stunning.”
You swallow, heart pounding. “Thank you… both of you.”
The three of you settle into your seats, the flickering candlelight between you making everything feel soft, private, safe. Conversation flows easily at first—racing, travel, music, family—but you can feel the tension in your chest building, that need to say something you’ve kept inside for weeks.
Finally, you set down your glass and take a deep breath. “I… I need to tell you both something. And I… I don’t really know how to say it.”
Logan leans forward, warm and steady. “Hey, it’s okay. Take your time.”
Oscar reaches across the table, just brushing his fingers against yours. “We’re listening.”
You bite your lip, and suddenly the words tumble out, trembling. “I… I have feelings for both of you. I don’t know who to pick. I care about you—both of you—so much, and it terrifies me because I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t want to lose you.”
Your voice catches, and you blink rapidly, holding back tears. You feel the tightness in your chest, the vulnerability of laying your heart bare, and for a moment you just let yourself shake.
Logan reaches across the table and covers your hand with his. “Hey, hey, look at me. It's okay..”
Oscar’s other hand joins yours, warm and grounding. “You don’t have to pick. You don’t have to choose. We can make this work together if that’s what you want.”
You blink at them, stunned. “I… really?”
Oscar nods gently, his calm reassurance a balm to your nerves. “I want this. I want us. All of us.”
Logan exhales slowly, voice low and full of honesty. “I’ve been in love with Oscar forever. But… then I met you, and I realized I felt the same way for you too. I can’t lie—I want this. I want all of it. All three of us.”
The weight lifts from your chest, replaced with a dizzying, tender warmth. You can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. “You… you really mean that?”
They both squeeze your hands again, and the three of you lean in slightly, sharing a moment of quiet intimacy. Soft touches, gentle brushes of fingertips, a few stolen glances that make your heart race, but nothing is forced. Everything feels natural, right.
You take a shaky breath and laugh softly, the tension finally easing. “I think… I think we can make this work.”
Oscar smiles quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We will. We’ll figure it out together.”
Logan grins, a little teasing, a little tender. “And don’t worry—we’ll make sure you’re laughing the whole time.”
You laugh again, softly, your cheeks warm, your heart full. “I think I’m already doing that.”
The rest of the evening unfolds gently. You talk, laugh, and share little touches across the table—fingers brushing, leaning just a little closer than necessary, soft smiles. Logan’s warmth and humor keep the atmosphere light, while Oscar’s calm presence makes your chest feel like it’s finally breathing easy. You tell stories, tease one another, and for the first time in weeks, you feel completely at home.
By the time dessert arrives, you’re leaning against both of them slightly, the three of you cocooned in quiet comfort. Logan makes you laugh so hard you nearly choke on a bite of tiramisu, and Oscar quietly steals sips of your wine when you’re not looking, only to grin when you notice.
And in that candlelit room, with the soft hum of the city outside and the warmth of their hands around yours, you finally allow yourself to believe it: maybe, just maybe, this complicated, unexpected, beautiful thing could actually work.
You smile through a small sigh, eyes glistening, and say softly, “I’ve missed you both… when you’re away.”
Oscar squeezes your hand gently. “We’ve missed you too.”
Logan grins, playful, leaning a little closer. “You have no idea.”
The three of you sit like that for a long moment, the quiet intimacy stretching out, soft touches lingering. Logan leans back with that warm, easy charm, “So… maybe we get another round of golf soon?”
Oscar adds, smirk in his eyes, “Or I could teach you sim racing in return. Fair trade.”
You laugh, heart full, leaning between them, feeling the warmth and the possibility of everything ahead. And as the night drifts on, soft candlelight and quiet conversation wrapping around you, it feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.
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three months later... (im a whore for domestic loscar SHUSH)
Three months later, life has settled into something that feels impossibly perfect.
Winter has wrapped New York City in its quiet, glittering calm, and the three of you are hidden away from the world—just you, Oscar, and Logan in your penthouse. You’ve been spending nearly every day together over winter break: movie nights, long walks through Central Park, late breakfasts that bleed into afternoons. Everything about it feels easy now, natural, like the three of you have been orbiting each other your whole lives.
You wake up to the faint sounds of chaos from the kitchen. There’s clattering, a muffled curse, and then Logan’s unmistakable laugh. You stretch lazily, sunlight pooling over the duvet, and listen.
“Lo, you cannot burn eggs that fast,” Oscar's voice says, exasperated but amused.
“I didn’t burn them! They’re just… golden,” Logan insists, clearly defensive.
You can’t help but smile into your pillow. Pushing yourself up, you pad barefoot toward the kitchen doorway, leaning against it with a sleepy grin.
The scene before you makes your heart flutter. Logan, in sweatpants and one of your oversized hoodies, is flipping pancakes with intense concentration, while Oscar is half-distracted—one hand holding a frying pan, the other awkwardly trying to arrange a small bouquet of flowers in a vase on the counter. The bouquet is… endearingly lopsided. There are tulips, roses, and what you think might be a rogue sprig of eucalyptus, all fighting for space.
“Okay,” you say softly, your voice still thick with sleep, “I think this might be the cutest disaster I’ve ever seen.”
Both their heads whip around.
Oscar’s expression softens immediately, the tension melting away into that small, shy smile that still makes your stomach twist. “You’re awake,” he says, voice low and warm.
“Barely,” you tease. “What’s going on here?”
Logan grins, walking over with a spatula in hand. “Breakfast. Chef Logan and sous-chef Piastri, at your service.”
Oscar shakes his head but can’t help smiling. “And maybe a small surprise.” He gestures to the flowers, now standing slightly askew. “I tried to make them look… romantic.”
You walk over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “They’re perfect,” you murmur, and he practically glows.
Before you can protest, Oscar scoops you up effortlessly, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “Nope,” he says, carrying you to the couch. “You sit. No helping. Chef’s orders.”
You laugh as he deposits you gently onto the cushions and tucks a blanket around you like it’s the most serious task in the world. “You’re ridiculous.”
Logan turns around from the stove, grinning. “And you love it.”
You smile, unable to deny it. Watching them move around your kitchen—Logan humming softly, Oscar pouring coffee, their quiet teamwork and easy laughter—you feel this overwhelming wave of affection. It’s so domestic, so normal, and somehow still unreal.
After breakfast, the three of you end up tangled together on the couch. The city hums outside your floor-to-ceiling windows, but in here, it’s peaceful. Logan has his arm draped across your waist, Oscar’s head rests against your shoulder, and your legs are a comfortable mess of warmth and blankets.
You don’t even realize you’ve drifted half-asleep until you hear the faint click of the front door.
Then Lily’s voice, frantic and stage-whispering: “Alex, wait! Don’t go in there yet—”
Too late.
Alex’s voice booms from the entryway. “Why does it smell like—oh my god.”
You groan softly, pressing a hand over your face as he rounds the corner, eyes widening comically at the sight of the three of you cuddled up like a Hallmark card.
“Absolutely not,” he declares, pointing dramatically. “This is my nightmare. I come to visit my sister and find her in some… some cozy cuddle cult.”
Logan snorts, trying to hide his laugh in your shoulder. “Morning, Albono.”
“Don’t ‘morning’ me, Sergeant!” Alex waves a hand. “You—get off my sister. And you—” he turns to Oscar, “you’re supposed to be the quiet one! You’re both in on this?”
Oscar, ever the calm one, just blinks innocently. “We’re just having breakfast.”
“On the couch?” Alex exclaims, scandalized.
Lily, who’s now standing in the doorway, groans. “Alex, you’re being dramatic. Again.”
“I am dramatic!” he says proudly, arms crossed. “Someone has to be the voice of reason in this—this—romantic sitcom you all have going.”
You laugh, sitting up and patting the space beside you. “Come on, big brother. Sit. Relax.”
He narrows his eyes but eventually flops onto the opposite chair, muttering under his breath.
Oscar glances over, smirking. “You know, we were going to go out for dinner tonight. You and Lily should join us—your favorite place, right?”
That perks him up instantly. “Which one?”
“The Italian place,” you answer, hiding your grin.
Alex squints, suspicious. “You’re trying to bribe me with truffle pasta.”
“Is it working?” Logan teases.
Alex sighs heavily. “...Yes. But I reserve the right to interrogate both of you at dinner.”
Lily claps her hands together. “Perfect! It’s a double date then.”
“Absolutely not,” Alex says, but no one’s listening.
That night, the five of you sit around a table at Alex’s favorite little spot downtown. The candles flicker, the food smells incredible, and the air is full of laughter.
Lily and Logan are swapping chaotic travel stories, Oscar and Alex are mock-arguing about who’s the better driver (“I’ve seen you parallel park, Alex.” “That was ONE TIME!”), and you’re just sitting there, cheeks aching from smiling so much.
Every now and then, Oscar’s hand finds yours under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin, while Logan leans close to whisper something that makes you laugh out loud.
Alex notices, groans, and drops his fork dramatically. “I can’t do this. They’re too cute. Someone make them stop.”
Lily pats his arm, laughing. “You’ll live, babe.”
The whole table dissolves into laughter again, the kind that makes your chest hurt in the best way. Later, when you’re walking home, the city lights reflecting off the snow-dusted streets, Logan drapes his arm around your shoulders and Oscar slips his fingers into yours. You glance up at them both—two people you love, two hearts that somehow fit perfectly with yours—and smile softly.
“Best winter break ever,” you say quietly.
Logan grins down at you. “Oh, it’s only getting started.”
Oscar nods, eyes soft. “Yeah. We’ve got forever to go.”
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oscarpiastri
liked by yn_albon, logansargeant, lilymhe, alex_albon and 3,405,000 others.
oscarpiastri : alex knows and i am still alive so...that's great. love you both!
tagged : logansargeant and yn_albon
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two months later...
f1gossipgirls
liked by yn_albon, lilymhe and 909,000 others.
f1gossipgirls : the team torque episode with oscar today😭 alex tries to act so mad and so big brotherly but this is him and his brother in law(s) PLEASEEEEEE. lily and yn laughing at him behind the camera had me rolling.
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The Williams media team has outdone themselves this time. The group chat blew up three days ago when Alex saw the message:
Team Torque… with special guest OSCAR PIASTRI!
You had immediately called Alex, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. He had not found it as funny.
Now, sitting behind the camera in the Williams media suite, you’re grinning like a Cheshire cat. Lily’s next to you, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, both of you armed with iced coffees and a dangerous level of energy.
Alex sits in the center of the couch, microphone clipped to his Williams polo, eyes narrowed at the production crew. “I still can’t believe I agreed to this,” he mutters.
“You didn’t,” Logan says cheerfully, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “You were voluntold.”
Oscar, seated on Alex’s other side, hides a smile behind his cup. “This should be fun.”
“Oh, sure,” Alex says, rolling his eyes. “Fun for you. I’m about to sit through forty minutes of my teammate and my sister’s boyfriend—boyfriends—trying to gang up on me.”
“Don’t sound so dramatic,” Logan says, giving the camera a wink. “He loves us, really.”
You and Lily burst into laughter from behind the lens, and Alex shoots you both a withering look.
“Don’t encourage them!” he warns.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say sweetly.
The producer counts them in, and the red recording light flickers on.
“Welcome back to Team Torque, the most chaotic podcast in the paddock,” Logan starts brightly, voice smooth and easy. “I’m Logan Sargeant, joined by my ever-grumpy co-host—”
“Alex Albon,” Alex says dryly. “Who is currently regretting his entire life.”
“And,” Logan continues, ignoring him, “we’ve got a very special guest today. Fresh off a stellar season with McLaren, our good mate—”
Oscar smiles at the camera, calm as ever. “Oscar Piastri. Hi.”
“Mate,” Alex groans, “I’m begging you—don’t act all polite right now. You’ve been smiling smugly since you got here.”
“I’m just happy to be invited,” Oscar replies, perfectly deadpan. “It’s nice to spend time with family.”
“Family?” Alex repeats, scandalized. “You mean menaces—you and Logan have turned my entire life upside down.”
Logan bursts out laughing, almost snorting into his mic. “You love it, Albono.”
“I tolerate it,” Alex corrects.
From behind the camera, you call out, “He loves it!”
The crew laughs, and Lily cups her hands around her mouth. “He literally texted me this morning saying, ‘I wonder if Logan and Oscar will play padel with me tomorrow.’”
“TRAITOR!” Alex yells, spinning in his chair to glare at her. The room erupts in laughter again, Oscar trying (and failing) to hide his grin.
“She’s not wrong,” Logan teases. “We’re his favorite people.”
“Don’t push it,” Alex warns, though his tone is fond now.
As the episode continues, the teasing only gets worse—in the best possible way.
They quiz Oscar on how it feels to be “the calm one” in a group of chaos, Logan tells the story of the first time he met you and hit every golf ball into a lake (“I was nervous, okay?”), and Alex is forced to sit through ten minutes of his sister being praised by both of her boyfriends.
“YN’s swing is perfect,” Oscar says seriously at one point.
“Yeah, she’s unreal,” Logan adds. “I still can’t hit like that.”
Alex groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Can we not turn my podcast into a love letter to my sister?”
“Too late,” Logan says cheerfully.
You and Lily are crying from laughter now, tears streaming down your cheeks as Alex finally throws one of the couch pillows at Logan.
“You know what?” Alex says, sitting back with his arms crossed. “Fine. You two can have your little bromance and your little—whatever this is—but I’m still the older brother, and I will forever have veto power.”
Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Over what?”
“Everything!” Alex declares, pointing dramatically at him. “Outfits, dates, dinner choices—if you two take her to McDonald’s again, I swear—”
Logan gasps, clutching his chest. “It was her idea!”
You shout from behind the camera, “And it was great!”
Oscar nods solemnly. “Yeah, the fries were really good.”
The entire room dissolves into laughter again, Alex throwing up his hands in defeat. “I’m surrounded by children.”
Logan leans toward the mic, smiling. “And you love us.”
Alex sighs, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I really do.”
The laughter softens, replaced by an easy warmth that settles over the room. You glance at Lily and find her smiling too, soft and knowing.
As the episode wraps up, Logan signs off with his usual energy. “Alright, that’s it for this episode of Team Torque! Huge thanks to Oscar Piastri for joining us—”
“Thanks for having me,” Oscar says, smiling straight into the camera. “Even if your co-host was mildly traumatized.”
“Emphasis on mildly,” Alex mutters.
“Make sure to like, subscribe, and tell Alex to calm down in the comments,” Logan finishes, grinning.
The recording light clicks off, and the room erupts in cheers and laughter. Oscar leans back, shaking his head, Logan gives Alex a triumphant pat on the back, and you and Lily rush over, still laughing.
“See?” you say, throwing your arms around your brother. “That wasn’t so bad!”
Alex side-eyes you but hugs you back anyway. “You owe me for this, kid.”
You grin. “Dinner’s on us. You can complain the whole time.”
“Perfect,” he says dryly, though there’s a real smile behind it.
You glance over to where Oscar and Logan are chatting with the media team, both relaxed, laughing, comfortable. Logan catches your eye and winks, and Oscar’s gaze softens when he notices you looking. It’s all so easy now—your strange, beautiful little family.
Alex notices, shakes his head, and sighs with mock exasperation. “I’m doomed, aren’t I?”
“Completely,” Lily says, patting his shoulder.
As everyone starts packing up, you look around the room—your brother teasing Lily, your boyfriends laughing together, the team buzzing with energy—and it hits you how perfect this full circle is. From a doubles match before a Grand Prix to this tiny, chaotic family in a paddock media room… it’s been a journey of laughter, risk, and love.
You walk over to Logan and Oscar, threading your hands through theirs.
“C’mon,” you say softly. “Let’s go home.”
And as you leave together, the sound of Alex’s voice echoing after you—“You’re still not escaping from family dinner!”—you can’t help but laugh.
Because for the first time, everything feels exactly as it should. ok
𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡
