#𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇: 𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑀𝑈𝐿𝐴 𝑂𝑁𝐸

[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: charles leclerc !!

DEAREST READER. hello there! while waiting for the two-week break to end, i needed a little f1 headcanon/scenario to heal me from the famine. anyway, here’s for the leclerc fans out there! it’s funny that i’m posting his first when i actually finished oscar’s first 😂 i hope you’ll enjoy~ for more drivers, you can see my masterlist at the end of the post !

CONTENT WARNINGS. no warnings. just a heads-up that i am an 18+ blog and i prefer only adults visit my profile page. if you’re a minor, you can still read this work since it’s sfw. so, i hope everyone out there is being honest with themselves. oh, probably my fucked up english grammar because why do i care it’s pure vibes !

WORD COUNT. 998 words (ugh, so close to 1k) !

I debated with this idea, but after some time, I decided that mutual pining suits Charles Leclerc better. There is so much potential for slow-burn and comedy. It’s the kind of story where there’s already an established sense of familiarity between you and Charles, one that has existed for as long as either of you can remember. But it has never crossed into anything as intimate as being ‘lovers’. Sure, both your groups of friends always comment about how the two of you argue like a married couple and suggest you should just make it official already, but you and Charles dodge these accusations as swiftly as an F1 driver dodging a collision course.

While you and Charles may eye-roll or stick your tongue out at the sight of each other, both of you secretly wish for something more. Yet, neither dares to make a move, fearing the loss of the bond binding you and him. The platonic relationship between you and him feels comfortable, and disrupting that would seem like the foolish move of the century. So, to preserve it, you’re quick to ignore your feelings, and he does the same. As a result, pent-up, endearing emotions often spill out in the form of silly banter and subtle jealousy. The sneaky glances across the room and the lame lies told when either of you got caught staring seem endless. This routine is no different to playing a song on repeat: it’s the only thing that you’re both fixated on, apparently. At this point, provoking each other just to see what kind of reaction the other can elicit can be considered a love language. You think he’s just being annoying as usual, while he thinks you’re unbearably nosy–and it doesn’t help that he has heard of the ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ meme and he has used it against you every single time you are about to start an argument with him.

Charles Leclerc, despite being a multiple Grand Prix winner and has earned himself many titles–The Prince of Ferrari, The King of Monza, The Sun of Maranello, The Predestined–he still can’t officially call himself ‘your boyfriend’. It’s pathetic and it pisses him off. Currently one of the best drivers on the F1 grid, he has placed himself among legendary rivals, and yet, he can’t seem to place himself on the same bed as yours. Although his fame attracts the attention of high-profile celebrities and influencers, Charles has his thoughts and eyes only on you, even when he is currently surrounded by them. You, on the other hand, love to torture yourself by watching him sitting and talking with glamorous models–or just pretty women in general. He says it’s an occupational hazard, but the way you see it–or rather, feel it–it is more of an emotional hazard to you. But you’re not just going to sit around and drink your sorrows away. No. You’re going to greet and chat with his driver friends … but him.

His eyes narrow dangerously whenever he sees you hanging out with another man, even with his fellow F1 driver friends. But he starts losing his cool when he sees one of them initiate physical contact with you. While you’re giving them your best smile and laughter, Charles is already plotting how to commit a massacre on the next circuit. When you notice that he’s beginning to space out, you decide to approach him, incoming snide remarks already up your sleeve to torment Ferrari’s golden boy.

‘So,’ you start, taking the long-awaited empty seat beside him, ‘is she going to be your next in-chi-dent? Or just another pit stop?’

‘What? I’m the most charming guy in the room. I can’t help if all the ladies want a piece of me.’

‘Oh, please.’ You roll your eyes, ‘you’re about as charming as a stalled-out engine on a race day.’ You add, taking a sip of your drink.

A grin spreads across Charles’ thin lips as he leans closer to you–his chin barely above your shoulder. ‘Is that so? Funny, because I thought I’m just like Ferrari–impossible to resist.’

You try to repress the blush that is beginning to creep up your cheeks by staring at him dead in the eyes. ‘Well, since you are a Ferrari, then I guess I’m the safety car. Always having to slow you down when you get too full of yourself.’

The slight shock on Charles’ face gives you immense satisfaction, and you don’t try to hide it. But he is also quick to gain composure.

‘Or maybe, you’re just the chequered flag I’ve been racing toward all along ...’ He said, but his words seem to trail off in the wind.

It catches you off guard, and you stare at him with a questioning look, only to see Charles’ green eyes gazing at you tenderly. Oh, you hate it so much when he looks at you like that.

‘Nice try.’ You quickly cover your raging emotions with a smirk. ‘But you’re still stuck in the pits.’

• ───────────────────────────•

[ SONGS FOR THIS TROPE: Taylor Swift – Dress ✦ Sabrina Carpenter – Nonsense ✦ Arctic Monkeys – I Wanna Be Yours ✦ Gracie Abrams – Feels Like ✦ Lana Del Rey – Say Yes To Heaven ✦ Ariana Grande — goodnight n go ]

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: oscar piastri !!

DEAREST READER. i have finally let this sweet boy out of my cage. the root of my inspiration for this whole mission. unlike charles’ though, i went completely overboard with this one. i couldn’t help myself 😭 i failed to make it as low as 1k. i wrote it in google docs and it took 6 pages 😭. so, this is for the piastri girlies out there! i hope you’ll enjoy this one because i had a smooth-sailing writing his compared to the others !

CONTENT WARNINGS. reader and oscar’s age are a bit vague, but anything from primary school to secondary school age. this content is sfw but only 18+ can visit my blog. as for minors, you can only interact with this post and the masterlist. stay in your lane and all shall be well. also, r.i.p my english grammar !

WORD COUNT. 2704 words !

Yep, this boy is the start of it all. When someone said that Oscar Piastri gives off a loser boyfriend-slash-childhood neighbour friends to lovers vibe, I couldn’t agree more. So, I decided to stick with this headcanon for him. 

It’s the kind of story where your parents move into a new neighbourhood due to unique circumstances when you are young, and Oscar’s parents are among the friendly neighbours who greet your parents and you, bringing a welcoming gift to help your family settle into the new community.

When they come to your new house, you spot a boy hiding behind his parents’ legs. When they tell him to say hello, he steps forward hesitantly and extends his hand. You shake it, and he pulls back his hand quickly. Since you and Oscar are about the same age, your parents begin secretly arranging playdates. One reason is that Oscar needs a friend to play with in the neighbourhood, and at the same time, having someone to play with you helps you familiarise yourself with the new surroundings. It’s perfect. Your parents even put you in the same school as Oscar.

Childhood is a blissful mix of shared memories. Every Halloween, you and Oscar go trick-or-treating together, scaring the other kids in the neighbourhood and swapping sweets on the sidewalk. During school breaks, your family and Oscar’s often go hiking together or take camping trips to enjoy the crisp air and the vibrant autumn scenery. While the adults set up the tents and prepare the meals, you and Oscar roam around the campsite, finding the best spots to explore. You get along brilliantly with his younger sisters too, much to Oscar’s frustration, because the three of you love to play pranks on him. Whether it’s hiding his shoes before a hike or sneaking extra marshmallows into his rucksack, your playful antics never fail to make him groan. But you can tell he enjoys these moments, rolling his eyes but smiling as he chases after you, trying to get his revenge.

The cold winters are filled with skiing and ice-skating, both of you putting on each other’s competitive spirit to the test by racing one another from one edge to the other, eager to set the fastest time. But when the chill becomes too much to bear, you both retreat indoors, compensating with cosy movie nights to warm the atmosphere and pass the time. Both your parents have grown accustomed to the two of you visiting each other’s homes, to the point where they prepare your ( or Oscar’s) favourite meals every time you (or Oscar) drop by.

You remember how spring is always the most chaotic time for you and Oscar, especially for him, as he also divided his time with go-karting, but you both always manage to find time to study together. You often joke, ‘Aw, what would you do without me?’ and Oscar can only sigh and nod his head in defeat, knowing he’d be completely lost and his grades would be abysmal without your generous help. It is the season where schools overwhelm their students with endless assignments and preparations for the final exams. You and Oscar either do them in the serene atmosphere of the school’s or public library or in the comfort of each other’s homes. The subjects are difficult, but what’s even more difficult is studying in front of Oscar. That isn’t a problem when you are kids. But adolescence literally alters your brain chemistry and body shape, and you realise, over time, that Oscar grows more and more attractive. You never think you’ll ever see him that way. Sure, you always considered him a very sweet and cute boy during your younger days, even though he can be a little mischievous when he wants to. But you can’t quite pinpoint when you started seeing him in a different light.

Summer holidays are filled with camping in the woods, surfing at the beach, and volunteering together at the community centre. There is never a boring moment. But a core memory that will latch onto you forever is the time he suddenly came to your house at night. You are just about to sleep when you suddenly hear constant sharp thumps against the glass of your window. Initially, you are scared, thinking it might be a ghost or something. But you approach it anyway because it wouldn’t stop. When you open the curtains of your window, you see Oscar hiding in the shadows, one hand in his pocket and the other cupping small rocks. You quickly open your window.

‘Are you crazy?! What are you doing?’ you hiss, trying not to raise suspicion with your parents and the whole neighbourhood.

‘Come down,’ he says, his whisper tinged with a slight urgence. ‘I need to talk to you.’

You hesitate, torn between the need to stay in your room and the pull of his words. It’s not like you have never snuck out before in the past, but who knows how long your luck can last. Oscar stands below, his posture firm, insistent. With a deep sigh, you make up your mind. You can’t ignore him any longer.

‘Give me a moment, I’ll come down.’

‘Okay,’ he says, appearing happy that you listen to his request. ‘I’ll meet you across the street.’

Oscar waits for you as you cross the street. You hope he has a good reason for pulling you out into the dark of night. The two of you begin to walk side by side, taking slow steps throughout the quiet neighbourhood. You ask him why he couldn’t wait until morning to talk about whatever that’s bothering him.

‘I’ve made my decision. I’m going to the UK to pursue racing.’

At that moment, a flood of emotions wash over you like a tsunami attacking a seawall. Your mind becomes muddled, preventing you from finding any words to respond to him. But you know how much he loves racing. You have watched him race at the local go-kart track, effortlessly beating other kids. You have seen the pride beaming through him when he stands on the podium, holding a trophy. You have seen the way his eyes gleam and his smile widens every time he talks about his dream: to be able to compete in Formula 1. This has always been what he wanted, and deep down, you know you’d be a terrible person to try to stop him from pursuing what he truly wants in life.

Trying to swallow the shock down your throat, you ask, ‘When will you be leaving?’

‘Next week. My parents bought the plane tickets already.’

You look up at him. ‘Are your family going as well?’  

‘No. It’ll just be me.’ He pauses. ‘But I won’t be alone. I’ll be staying at a boarding school.’

‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Yet, you don’t feel any reassurance or relief when he says that. He is leaving. With each passing moment, denial grips you more tightly. You know this day will come, and it has. He has been telling you for a while now that he might leave Australia someday. But now that you are being represented with this moment, hearing him finally confirming it, still manages to catch you off guard. It is as you expected, you were never prepared for it, after all. The weight of this moment and the silence that engulf you and him presses down on you, like a boulder lodged in your chest.

‘Well, I’m going to miss you.’ You smile, putting up a strong facade. The sadness that tightens around your heart is hard to remove, and you hope the dim lighting of the streetlight and the pale glow of moonlight do not threaten to show the tears welling in your eyes.

Oscar nods, lips pressed together like how one would when they try to hide something. ‘I’m going to miss you too. It’s going to be hard without you around. But I promise I’ll try to call you—and my family—every week.’ He says, sparing you another soft gaze.

You chuckle, and let out a gentle snort.

‘You better.’ You reciprocate his gaze while trying to sound fierce, but your voice cracks just a little when you say it. Yet, Oscar does not seem to notice.

The air between you and Oscar settles into silence once more, albeit it feels heavier than the previous moments as you both continue walking along the pavement. Despite the silence, your thoughts are screaming, louder than anything the night offers that it becomes deafening to you. There are words you have been dying to say. All these years, you want him to know how much you like him, and more than just a close friend—how he has become the only boy you want in this wide universe. You want to tell him how you wouldn’t want any other boys touching you except for his gentle hands, how even a faint of his smile is enough to light up your darkest days. You can guarantee that there is no one else who understands Oscar like you do, and no one understands you like he does.

Should I say it? What if he just sees me as his childhood friend and … nothing more? The words you have been holding back press against your lips, almost bursting out, but you hesitate. You have been debating with yourself for so long–wondering whether you should tell him how you feel. It was now or never.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Just because we are childhood friends doesn’t mean he will reciprocate your feelings, does it? In the end, you can’t risk it—not when everything is about to change. Besides, Oscar’s unbroken silence seems to give you the answer. If he felt the same, surely he would have said something by now. So, you decide that staying quiet is the safer option. You are not about to ruin the friendship you have built with him over something as trivial as romantic feelings—especially not when he is flying to England next week. It just isn’t worth it. So, for the rest of the walk, you decide to stick to safe, meaningless chatter with Oscar. Once the clock almost hits midnight, you and Oscar exchange a brief smile, say your goodbyes, and part ways. (What you don’t know is that as you walk back to your house, Oscar stops in his tracks. He turns around to look back at you, taking in your figure, trying to carve every detail into his memory, as if he is afraid he might forget you the moment he looks away. It is only when you finally vanish from his view, he walks home). 

A few years later, you are in your first year of university. It’s been lonely without Oscar by your side through high school, but he kept his promise to keep in touch with you through video calls. As for Oscar, he has become a main driver for McLaren in Formula I, and you were thrilled beyond words when he shared the news with you. You still can’t believe he is a famous person now.

One day, he tells you he is coming back to Australia during one of the two-week holidays between Grand Prixs, and you pick him up at the airport along with his parents. The moment you see him, you are ecstatic that when you both finally hug, neither of you wants to let go. You can feel the way his arms press against your back, squeezing the air from your lungs. After a moment, you both pull back—although you sort of initiate it first because you are conscious of his parents and sisters watching. 

That night, his parents invite you to join them for dinner to celebrate Oscar’s return, and while you refuse at first, thinking that it is more of a family reunion, Oscar insists that you should come.

After the meal, you help Mrs Piastri clean up before heading home. But just as you are about to leave, Oscar races to the door, calling out, ‘Wait! I’ll walk you back.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to. You must be tired—’

‘No, I’m not. And I want to.’ He cut, giving you an unwavering gaze.

You release a defeated sigh through your mouth, realising there is no point in arguing with Oscar, so you let him accompany you as you walk back home. As usual, silence fills the air at first, heavy and awkward, but after gaining some distance from his house, Oscar finally breaks through it.

‘I have something to say to you … something I should have said a long time ago.’ He begins with a furtive note, making you feel slightly uneasy but curious enough to know.

‘Oh? Is there still something you need to say that you didn’t already say over dinner tonight?’ You joke, trying to ease the atmosphere and him.

You see him hesitate for a moment. Then, he stops walking, and you instinctively stop walking too. Confusion starts to seep into your facial features as you look up at him. Oscar takes a deep breath and exhales the air through his mouth, before looking straight into your eyes with a brand new motive.

‘During my time in the UK, I found myself … constantly … thinking about you. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think of you—well, maybe only when I was asleep. And even then, I sometimes … I dreamt of you.’ He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he shifts his gaze downwards to the pavement. A faint pink hue colours his cheeks. ‘I guess I’ve been blind this whole time, or maybe I was just too afraid to say anything before I left. That eventually grew into regret.’

Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, but your gaze never leaves his face. You can’t believe you are actually hearing this, especially after a few years. You think you might know what he is trying to say, but it sounds too good to be true, and you don’t want to get your hopes too high to protect yourself from the sting of a potential heartbreak.

‘I’ve always liked you, (y/n). More than a friend would. It’s … it’s always been you.’ He reaches his hand out to grasp yours. You almost shudder at his touch, but your desire for him channels through your hold on them, never wanting to let go. 

‘And I hope we can be more than just … friends.’

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar. His confession has an effect similar to a nuclear bomb. Your mind is reduced to nothing. Oscar, noticing the blank expression on your face and your silence, shifts uncomfortably. But before he can say anything, you quickly avert your gaze, covering your mouth with your hand. There is a feeling of immense happiness and relief swelling in your chest that you can’t help but let tears pool in your eyes. But you pull yourself together, and turn to face him.

‘I never stopped thinking about you either.’ You admit, your voice trembling. ‘It was hard without you here. This place felt so much less like home when you weren’t around. Everywhere I went, everything I saw … It all reminded me of you. I’ve … I’ve grown feelings for you too. But I also didn’t say anything because I couldn’t risk ruining what we have, our friendship, and our friendship is so good.’ 

You take a shaky breath, smiling softly, finally letting your tears fall from your eyes. ‘But I’ve always hoped for more.’

For a moment, the two of you just stand where you are, overwhelmed by the weight of each other’s feelings. Then, out of nowhere, you both start laughing.

‘Oh my god,’ Oscar snorted, placing a hand over his eyes. ‘We’re both so dumb.’

‘Hey!’ You lightly protested, gently punching him in the arm. ‘Don’t lump me in with you!’

‘No can do,’ he teases, bringing his thumbs up to wipe the side of your eyes. ‘We’re together now … for real.’

You gaze at him. Your voice just above a whisper. ‘For real?’

Oscar nods. ‘For real.’

• ───────────────────────────•

SONGS FOR THIS SCENARIO: Taylor Swift – You Belong With Me, SEVENTEEN – Home, Dhruv – double take, lany – sharing you, Jeremy Zucker ft Chelsea Cutler – this is how you fall in love

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ✦ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.