The forest was quiet again. A silent violence that came after he had been taken, snatched away from you.
When you found him, Daryl was barely conscious, crumpled in the leaves like a broken puppet. His face was bloodied, one eye swollen shut, and his knuckles shredded from the fight. His breathing was ragged and shallow—and when you touched his shoulder, he flinched so violently that it made your heart hurt.
“It’s me.” You whispered, falling to your knees beside him. “It’s me, Daryl. You’re safe now.”
He blinked, pupils blown wide beneath the bruising. For a long, agonizing moment, he just stared at you—like you were a stranger.
“Who’re you?” He rasped.
You froze. “Daryl, it’s me. Y/N.”
He looked away, grimacing as he tried to sit up. His movements were clumsy, his eyes unfocused. “Don’t—don’t know ya.” He mumbled, fingertips probing at the deep split on his brow. “Where the hell am I?”
You swallowed hard. “You’re home.” You said softly, though the final word felt fragile on your tongue.
They said it was a concussion. A bad one. Possibly more. He’d taken a brutal beating. The Whisperers hadn’t gone easy on him before leaving him for dead. For days he drifted in and out—restless and defensive, snapping at anyone who came near. Except you.
Even if he didn’t remember who you were, some part of him still trusted you. You caught it in the small things—the way he’d look for you first when he woke up or how his shoulders eased when he heard your voice.
But when you tried to remind him of what the two of you had—what you’d become together—the words caught in your throat.
You remembered it all too clearly. That night before he was taken. You had argued over something stupid—the risks he took, the way he shut you out. Then you had both gone quiet. The fight had bled into silence. Then that silence had turned into something else.
He had kissed you. Rough and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to—like he’d been holding it back for years. And you had kissed him right back.
Now that memory felt like something precious and fragile that only you carried.
A week later, you were sitting with Rosita by the garden fence, talking low. Daryl was nearby, sharpening a knife, pretending not to listen.
“I don’t know how to help him.” You said quietly. “He looks at me like I’m someone he’s supposed to know but can’t place. Like a name on the edge of his tongue.”
Rosita’s gaze softened. “He’ll come back to you.” She said. “Give it time.”
You looked down, twisting a bit of fabric in your hands. “He kissed me before they took him.” You confessed. The words came out shaky. “And now—it’s like it never happened.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw Daryl’s hand still. The knife hovered mid-stroke, his brow furrowing slightly.
Rosita’s smile was small but warm. “Then remind him.” She said. “In your own way.”
You just nodded, trying to ignore the burn behind your eyes.
When you stood and walked past Daryl, he didn’t look up—not right away. But as you passed, his gaze followed you, lingering a moment too long.
That night, you caught him sitting on the porch, staring out into the trees.
“You were talkin’ ‘bout me.” He said without turning around. His voice was quiet, brimming with uncertainty.
Your breath caught. “You were listening?”
He shrugged. “Wasn’t tryin’ to. Just heard.”
A long silence stretched between you. The cicadas hummed. The wind stirred the leaves.
“Was it true?” He asked finally, turning his head toward you. His eyes were clearer tonight—searching. Hopeful? “Whatcha said. ’Bout the kiss.” You could see his throat working as he swallowed. “We had somethin’ special, didn’t we?”
You could have lied to him. Saved him the turmoil of a memory he just couldn’t summon. Still, you nodded, your heart thudding in your chest. “Yeah.” You whispered. “It was real.”
He looked down at his hands for a long moment, thumb tracing the edge of the knife sheath. Then he quietly said “m’sorry I don’t remember.”
“You don’t have to be.” You said softly. “You’ll get there again—if that’s what you want. I can wait.”
He glanced at you, eyes shadowed and unsure—but a faint flicker of something passed across his face. Maybe recognition? Or even something deeper.
“Maybe ya—” He said slowly. “Maybe ya could tell me how it happened.”
You smiled faintly, stepping closer. “Maybe I could show you instead.”
He watched as you moved, head tilted and brow furrowed. When he nodded, there was a weight lifted that you had already grown accustomed to carrying.
“Yeah.” He murmured. “Yeah, I want that.”
And for the first time since he’d come back, Daryl didn’t flinch when you reached for him.
He didn’t remember everything—not yet. But when his fingers brushed yours and stayed there, it felt like the beginning of something coming back to life.
an F1 RPF Landoscar Omegaverse whump collection by papayabrain
For Whumptober 2025
No.24: I must confess that I feel like a monster
Summary: Oscar was born an alpha, presenting late as a teenager. He’s spent his entire racing career on rut suppressants, craving comfort and safety over being aggressive and dominating like society insists. Gaining Lando Norris as his teammate, a male omega who thrives off reciprocal affection and sassing everyone in his vicinity, only has Oscar’s instincts all out of whack. In a good way.
Because he’s never truly felt like an alpha…
Rating: T
Word count: 1.9k
Transdynamic: A character whose secondary gender (alpha, beta, omega) does not align with their inherent nature or the dynamic they were born with. A transition from an assigned secondary dynamic to one that aligns with their internal identity, focusing on behavioural and biological instincts over purely physical anatomy.
Warnings: Implied gender dysphoria.
Read on AO3 | or read below 👇🏼
~
“I must confess that I feel like a monster.”
Dr Julie Nightingale cocked her head as she studied him. “That’s a big feeling. Can you elaborate on that for me?”
Oscar bit his lip, shaking his head as he cast his eyes out the window at the blue, cloudless sky. “Everything is wrong. I’ve always felt wrong. And now I’m jealous and I don’t understand why.”
“What are you jealous of?”
“Who.”
“Who are you jealous of?”
He inhaled a shaky breath, forcing himself to look her in the eye. “Lando.”
“Jealousy isn’t unexpected, particularly in highly competitive sports.” She nodded as she wrote in her notepad. “However, it can be harmful if we let it fester. What has you worried about it? He’s your teammate, your rival?”
He wrung his hands together. He’d curled up on the couch as soon as he entered the room. A very non-alpha way of sitting. It wasn’t proper, but it was comfortable and safe. He was just missing a thick blanket. Drowning in his oversized hoodie was close enough.
“It’s not about the racing. I’m not jealous that he’s doing better than me or anything like that. It’s my job to try to beat him, and I love it. We get on well, and we work hard together as a team. He’s an omega. And that’s not a bad thing!” he added before she misconstrued him. “Far from it! I just know that that’s why.”
“Right. So, you’re jealous because of his secondary gender, then?”
They weren’t beating about the bush then. Fuck. “I dunno. He gets to be himself. Secure and happy. Affectionate with everyone. He’s allowed to do that. I’m not.”
He sounded ridiculous. Lando faced all sorts of backlash and bullying for embracing his identity. He tried to take it on the chin, not look at social media and focus on his work, his passions, what he loved. But being his teammate, Oscar got to see when he dropped the mask, especially after long media sessions. The constant questioning of whether he was good enough to be a champion. The doubts. The jeers.
Oscar admired him for always proving them all wrong. He wasn’t the only omega driver on the grid, but apparently, he was the easiest target.
They never treated Oscar that way.
An alpha.
“May I be frank with you, Oscar?”
“Sure.”
Julie leaned forward with a soft smile. “Have you ever built yourself a nest?”
“No. That’s not what alphas do.” His hands shook, and his breath hitched. He curled up impossibly smaller on the couch.
“What about when you’re back in Australia with your family? Do you help with the pack nest?”
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
“I only collect the supplies. I don’t build it. Or rearrange anything. It’s considered rude.”
“You’ve told me before that not all of your sisters are omegas, correct?”
He nodded. “Edie’s an alpha. And Hattie doesn’t care to be anything. She’s on hormone treatment.”
“Okay, so that’s rather untypical already. Stereotypes are outdated in our modern times. It’s more normal and acceptable to explore and celebrate our differences. You’ve never expressed jealousy of them, or even negative thoughts towards them.”
Who did she think he was? “I love my sisters, and I’d do anything for them! They’re my family. I’m so fucking proud of them. I miss them. All the time.”
“So why do you have to follow the rules?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? There are only twenty drivers in the goddamn world on this grid, and I’ve worked my arse off to be one of them. I can’t throw it all away just because I’m not–” He cut himself off, covering his face with his hands.
No! It wasn’t okay.
“Oscar, you know this is a safe space. Nothing you say will ever leave this room unless I feel that you or someone you know may be in danger.”
Wetness stung his eyes. “I’m not the alpha everybody wants me to be. Look at what I’m wearing!”
In the paddock, and out and about, he confined himself to skinny jeans and simple, basic fashion. In the privacy of his own apartment, he wore baggy, comfy fabrics. Drowning in the softness, experimenting with colours and styles.
“Clothing doesn’t have a gender, Oscar.”
“It does in Formula 1,” he bit out.
Julie scrawled again in her notepad. “I understand. It’s clearly causing a lot of fear and stress for you. So, forget the paddock. Forget the racing. Start smaller. A nest in your apartment.”
He scoffed. “Are you giving me homework?”
She smiled. “If you want to consider it that, yes. I want to encourage you to explore it and record what your instincts tell you. How you feel. How it affects your mood and behaviours. If your trainer notices a difference.”
His heart thumped in his chest. “I’m allowed to build myself a nest?”
“Yes, of course you are. And I highly encourage you to share your findings with your closest circle. You don’t have to show it to them. They don’t need to be in your safe space if you don’t want them there. But it might be helpful to share how it makes you feel.”
“Thank you,” he sobbed.
~
The fresh sea breeze did nothing to calm his nerves as he unlocked the front door and entered the villa.
Lando whistled as he passed him. “Wow, this is nice!” he said, drawing out the vowel sound. “Andrea truly knows the best spots!”
Oscar nodded as he rolled in his suitcase. Parking it in the entryway, he let go of it to proceed to the open kitchen and living area. There was a huge welcome basket on the coffee table, along with a thick file and some loose papers. Shrugging off his backpack, he sat down on one of the couches to read them.
*
Welcome to your Omega Retreat with Hilton! We hope you enjoy your stay!
Please enjoy this basket of special treats we have compiled for you. You will find other nesting materials in the closets around the villa, all of which are available for your use, with a variety of options for maximum comfort.
A schedule is attached, listing all programmes available for you to join. No booking required. Please feel free to turn up to whichever ones you fancy.
Your privacy and security are of the utmost importance to us, so staff will not disturb you unless you call us on the number below, or visit us at the main reception.
*
“Look at this!” Lando exclaimed as he examined the contents of the basket. “Beautiful! What does it say?”
“There’s other nesting things in various closets, apparently lots of choice.”
“Ah, mint! They’re so good at being inclusive. Their weighted blankets are insane! It’s nice to have other choices than just the soft, fluffy, delicate stuff. While it can feel cosy, you can get way too overheated!”
Oscar grinned. “You do love being cold.”
“I don’t love being cold,” he pouted. “There’s just something about cold sheets and a cold room, and you can toss around the bed and it’s just delicious!”
“You’re so fussy.”
“Hey, no, that’s not fair! You don’t even know what you like, yet! That’s the entire point of this retreat!” Lando’s arms were spread wide, and he was beaming, Oscar’s stomach fluttering at the sight.
It had been Lando’s idea. Once Oscar had plucked up the courage to come out to him as transdynamic, a word that was entirely new to him as Hattie didn’t use it, Lando had been eager to give him a crash course in omega culture.
Andrea had been his next call. As his boss, it was important to be honest so he could provide support and have his back. The whole team were soon in the know too, Oscar announcing himself at one of their factory debriefs. Lando holding his hand, and Andrea with his arm around him. It had been a special moment, with plenty of hugs and tears.
His mechanics and engineers, in particular, all rallied around him, and after some further conversations about his therapy sessions, he felt their bond strengthen further. His psychologist had been right that it was good to celebrate differences and not restrict himself to stereotypes.
So here they were, on an omega-specific retreat that Andrea had recommended once Lando had brought the idea up. Somewhere safe and neutral for Oscar to explore his omega instincts without fear of discovery, with a trusted friend beside him. Julie had been ecstatic at his progress, and Oscar was already feeling so much freer and lighter.
Standing up, he hugged Lando close, scenting him with a chirp. The noises were new; ones he’d heard his teammate make before when he was in a good mood. It was relieving to embrace them now and not suppress them, same with how much more tactile he was with people.
“You’re so cute!” Lando said against his neck. “I love you being affectionate like this. It’s lovely.”
He felt his cheeks flush. He might have had a hero worship crush on Lando Norris for the longest time, but it was gonna stay that way. A crush.
“M’sorry for hiding from you.”
Lando drew back, arms still looped around his neck. He moved one of his huge hands to gently brush his cheek with his fingers before moving it to stroke the cowlick out of his eyes. He loved Lando’s eyes, always so bright and expressive. “Never apologise, ‘kay? Coming out is such a private and intimate thing. I’m beyond proud of you for trusting us. You’re amazing, Osc.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before a soft vibration erupted from his throat. Different from a chirp.
“Oh my God, Osc, you’re purring!” There was the distinct feeling of lips against his temple. “Fuck me, could you be any more beautiful? Come on, we need to set up our nests! We’re gonna have the best week, mark my words!”
Lando grabbed his hand and led him through the villa. Picking their respective bedrooms, they went about exploring the many hidden closets. Oscar ran his hands over everything before Lando did, to assess the textures and how his omega instincts felt about them. The ones that felt right, he took them to his bedroom and piled them on the bed.
Nest. He would build himself the best, most perfect and comfortable nest.
Maybe Lando would like it. Maybe that would make him purr again.
He had to get Lando out of his head!
“Do you want me in here, or do you wanna be alone?” Lando asked, hovering in the doorway.
Oscar stretched out his hand, smiling softly as Lando chirped. So much for getting him out of his head. Something was soothing about having his fellow omega nearby.
He always enjoyed Lando’s presence, but before, there had always been a barrier between them, one that Oscar had put there. Pretending to be an alpha. With that gone now, it was like they were closer than ever, and Oscar wanted him near all the damn time.
The process of making his nest was something he was still getting used to. Listening to his instincts and trusting himself, letting his omega thrive. Arranging the sheets, placing the blankets and pillows just right, then some comfort items he’d brought with him.
Stepping back once he was finished, he saw that Lando was silently crying. He whined, distressed that he’d somehow upset him.
But Lando was smiling. Overwhelmed with pride and happiness, telling him so as they hugged tightly. They were both purring this time.
When Lando offered him one of his hoodies, Oscar couldn’t resist lifting him and spinning him around. He wanted his fellow omega inside his nest. To cuddle and protect. To befriend. To commiserate with. To love.
