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[choscar-op81]

i like you a latte (charles/oscar, 5k, completed)

Alright so, the usual techniques clearly aren’t working. Being nice, being funny, being flirty. Oscar is clearly a pro, and so Charles needs to start using pro tactics. “Didn’t realize it was whore Wednesday,” Max deadpans, as Charles wanders into the shop that morning. “Good morning to you too,” Charles says, ignoring his statement. “How are you? I’m great, thanks for asking.” “No, no, I agree with Max. That shirt demands our immediate and undivided attention, no time for chit chat,” Lando says, appearing over the counter. “Like could you physically undo any more buttons.”

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[choscar-op81]

as i've gotten three different choscar kiss prompts (are yall. ok?), and idk when I'll get to them, i figured i could split the difference by sharing some of my choscar wip. is that a fair exchange? choscar anons pls love me premise is: charles as the "childhood best friend's older brother". oscar as the long-term down-bad idiot. charles is now -- surprise! -- oscar's boss at his new job.

Mr. To You

Is he allowed to use his phone? How often is too often to get up and wander towards the café? Is it weird to explore the floor a bit? Maybe introduce himself to his new coworkers?

He looks over at Max – sat in a different row, the middle desk – and notes the distinct lack of cell on his desk. That probably settles at least one question, doesn't it? Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention; he shifts to take a not-so-subtle look, face freezing between two expressions: shock and abject terror.

Walking down their half of the hallway, waving good morning to a man that Oscar can't see, is a ghost from Oscar's past.

Or rather, a ghost from his entire childhood, teenagehood, and adolescence.

His shoes, light brown Italian leather, perfectly elegant and perfectly on trend, tap against the short-pile carpet as he draws closer – flashing another smile towards Max, whose shoulders visibly tense from behind.

Oscar feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, red-hot heat rushing under his skin like he's been doused in boiling water. Time seems to move in slow motion as he takes another step closer, as his hand – adorned with an oversized watch that should look horrendously gaudy, but rather highlights the span of his palm – moves to undo the button of his navy blazer.

And his chin turns, pink lips parted to flash yet another smile.

At him.

Charles Leclerc, the object of his hormone-fueled fixations since before he even had hormones to blame, looks at him – brilliant green eyes catching his with ease, dimple starting to show as he mouths 'good mor–'

Before he can finish, Oscar bolts; he scrambles to his feet and dashes towards the glass door a few steps behind him.

He's moving before he even realizes it, storming out onto the small balcony and stumbling over the wrought-iron seating set. He nearly falls flat on his face, which – at this point – may have been a mercy. Maybe if he punches in his nose and knocks out his teeth, Charles Leclerc won't even remember who he is – maybe he'll get to go home and quit over the phone, and no one would ever need to know.

The beating sun feels like ice compared to the blood pressing up against his skin, painting him a frantic, alarming shade of pink.

Not even taking a moment to calm his racing heart, Oscar pulls out his phone.

Oscar Piastri

What the fuck did you do

Arthur

yes yes good morning

im good! how are you???

Oscar Piastri

ARTHUR

Arthur

so polite, i am always saying this

why is it always me thats doing something??????

what the fuck did YOU do?? huh???

[choscar-op81]

ellie nyoomfruits writing choscar 👀👀👀

HEHEHEHE

“Oscar!” Charles exclaims, when Oscar wanders through the door the next morning, impressive levels of zombie state. He startles when Charles says his name, like he forgot he was actually out and about for a moment.

“Morning,” Oscar mumbles, a rosy blush on his cheeks. It must be getting cold out, the last wisps of summer finally officially melting into autumn. “Can I just get a blueberry muffin this time?”

“And your drink?” Charles says, leaning on the counter, fluttering his lashes in the way he’s seen Lando successfully do before, whenever he needed Carlos to do shit for him.

“Uh,” Oscar says. “Oh, uh…” He pauses. “Are you okay? Do you have something in your eye?”

“What?” Charles asks, stops fluttering.

“No, just, you were like. All twitchy?” Oscar’s flush has returned, coloring his cheeks and creeping down to his neck.

“No, I’m,” Charles sighs. “I’m okay. But, your drink? We have an absolutely delicious Apple Pie Frappuccino on the board today.” He throws in a wink for good measure.

“Are you sure your eye is okay?” Oscar asks.

Charles suppresses the urge to thunk his head down onto the counter. This is not going how he envisioned it. “My eye is fine,” he grits out. “Drink?”

“Oh,” Oscar says. “Small Americano?”

Goddamnit.

[choscar-op81]

"girl idk how i ended up here either"

[choscar-op81]

hair + choscar

When Lando offered to send Oscar his hairstylist’s number, he didn’t think about it. He agreed because why wouldn’t he. He’s new to Monaco, needs a new hairstylist, and Lando obviously cares about his own hair, so he knows he’ll be in good hands.

Except his hands are, um, more distracting than he expected. It’s a little hard to focus on what he’s asking when his hands are running through Oscar’s hair like that. When they still, Oscar meets his gaze in the mirror, realizes he asked him a question. He takes a guess, “Uh, I don’t know. Just— shorter I guess.”

The hairdresser, he thinks his name was Charles, hums, runs his hand through Oscar’s hair once more, and seems to come to a decision.

He chats to Oscar while cutting his hair, though he does stay focused on his task, only glancing toward Oscar’s eyes every once in a while. The questions he asks are mundane, how long he’s been in the city, whether he has any pets, if he has a partner. Which, may or may not make Oscar’s heart skip a beat, despite Charles keeping his eyes firmly on his scissors. And anyway, he doesn’t offer that information back, moves on to the next question too quickly for Oscar to ask.

By the time the appointment is over, Oscar thinks he’s gotten used to Charles’ attention on him. At least until he steps to the side, brushes the hair off his shoulders, and lets Oscar take a look in the mirror. “What do you think? Looks good, no?” Confidant, a proud smile on his face.

“Uh, yeah, it looks great.” Oscar brushes the hair across his forehead with the tips of his fingers and pretends he doesn’t notice his face getting warm. He stands, walks with Charles to the front, lets himself be convinced into booking a new appointment in a few months. And when Lando compliments his hair and asks how the appointment went, he’ll pretend he isn’t thinking of a certain hairdresser’s dimples and the proud smile that was directed at him.

[choscar-op81]

[choscar-op81]

choscar shenanigans

[choscar-op81]

hi hi hi, kiss prompt 29 anon here!! i totally understand, i was just going with the "safest" option. i am a lover of rarepairs my self so choscar, maxcar, maxlewis, are some examples i am currently obsessed with. but write with any pairs youd like or think fit the prompt best, im just here to enjoy your thoughts on them!! thanks in advance

thank you for sending a second prompt!!!! And thank you extra for understanding my previous response <33333333 have some Chocsar, set loosely before Monza! It's my first attempt, and I'd like to workshop it more but i fear doing so would... result in my never posting ever so. tadah! Prompts!

Hunting, Hunted

F1 is, all things considered, not that different from F2 – at least not to Oscar. There's the learning curve, there's the growing pains that keep him up at night, and there's the spotlight; it's not all the dissimilar from the F3 transition to F2, really.

But there's one thing that he hadn't anticipated.

It's a lot more… He shifts in his seat as he thinks about it, not paying nearly as much attention to the driver's briefing as he should. Charles looks over at him, sat between Max and Pierre, and his eyes are like pins in the wings of a butterfly – sharp, painfully sharp and oh so focused.

As fast as he looks at him, he looks away.

Oscar swallows.

It's a lot more like foreplay, like some really fucked up foreplay where everyone wants to claw out your eyes before they shove you down.

Frankly, Oscar's not sure if he's handling it well; he's certainly not handling Charles Leclerc and the way he can wrap anyone around his finger with a one dimpled smile. Lando's give him looks before, the silent one where Oscar's positive he's calling him an idiot, because he's caught him staring at Charles in the paddock – Charles laughing through interviews, Charles jogging after Carlos with his racesuit tied low around his hips.

But it's not the looks. Beautiful men, like many things about F1, aren't that new from F2.

It's Charles, and everything about him, specifically.

It started in Belgium, lap thirty-six.

Oscar managed to beat him on the outside line, managed to show him that he was that much more confident, that he was that much better. And it felt good, it felt fucking electric; Oscar nearly let himself smile in the car, and maybe he would have if he'd spared a look back – but he hadn't.

Somehow, that made it so much sweeter.

Charles had given him a look cold enough to freeze hell later that day, and Oscar had taken it in stride – literally. He kept walking by, not giving him the pleasure of even a raised brow. But that was normal, at the time, or at least Oscar wasn't alarmed by it. Competition is competition, and tensions run high. They did in F2, they do in F1, whatever.

But by Zandvoort, Oscar realized he was wrong.

Charles had sought him out after the race, still dripping champagne and rubbing at his eyes – trying to will away the blinding sting. In the fading daylight, he still looked shockingly alive, as if he drained himself in the weeks away from the podium like a sacrifice. Before Oscar could mumble out a disingenuous genuine congratulations, Charles beat him to it.

"No smart move from you today?" He smiled, all teeth and no sweetness.

It punched Oscar in the nose. As the crush of post-race circus swarmed around them, Charles drove a knife right into his smarting cuts. He twisted it.

"I was hoping for a better fight. From you, I mean." He continued, and all Oscar could do was stare, mind gone entirely blank. With a wink, one of his better attempts, Charles clapped Oscar on the shoulder and started to walk on – pressing him down like a disobedient dog. "Try harder for me next time, yes?"

Belatedly, at a speed entirely unacceptable for a racing driver, Oscar put the pieces together. Charles wanted to do more than beat him, dominate him. He wanted to consume him after breaking him down into miniscule pieces, but he wanted a fight; it makes his stomach twist, makes somewhere lower than his stomach ache.

Rolling his shoulders, mentally brushing off the feeling of Charles's hand on his fireproofs, Oscar moved on like nothing happened.

And now Charles is looking at him again.

Pierre turns and looks too, losing interest immediately and whispering something in Charles's ear. Charles swats at him blindly, still holding Oscar's gaze – almost as if to prove that he can. He needs to prove that he won't look away first, maybe. Or that, more importantly, Oscar will.

He doesn't.

Neither looks away as the briefing ends, pulled together by some invisible string amidst the casual chaos of the drivers dispersing. They stand nearly chest to chest; Charles smiles like he wants to lean forward and bit Oscar's nose off, spit it down at his feet.

They wait, peripherally aware of the room growing empty, the air becoming still. The wait until it's just them, just the sound of Charles's voice.

"This circuit is mine." Charles says, faux-casually. It's loaded with meaning, loaded with an unspoken 'so try and take it from me'.

Oscar raises a brow. "Thought it was Ferrari's."

"Is it not the same thing?" He leans closer, taunting.

"Guess so," Oscar agrees, voice not betraying his heart rate. "Beaten both before, anyways."

Charles laughs a little, haughty and toying – like a cat watching a mouse try and work out some clever escape. Their faces are too close together for Oscar not to feel it, for it not to leave a trail of blushed Ferrari red on his cheeks.

Charles still hasn't looked away. Neither has he.

"Make it a good fight, I want to earn it." Charles finally says, voice ringing in Oscar's ears.

"You think I'll just roll over for you?"

"I would never," His voice drops low, head tilting slightly to the left – lips parted like he wants something from him. "Because I want to rip it from you, the podium. So promise," Charles's breath is hot on Oscar's lips. So close. Their eyes stay open. "Promise to try and get me."

Oscar moves first, leans forward to steal Charles's lips in some sort of psycho-sexual moment of delirium. He takes Charles's breath, he takes Charles's hands in his hair, he takes every bit of Charles that he can get under his nails and teeth and tongue, as some sort of agreement – some sort of 'I promise'.

[choscar-op81]

Do you have any preference who's topping between them in fics?

😗 ahaaa I prefer oscar to top, for me it suits better to their dynamics.

But generally I'm not picky, there's not much fic, so I swallow everything that's there🥰

[choscar-op81]

POR UNA CABEZA

[choscar-op81]

Discovered choscar today and then saw a fanart and then read a fic and then my life changed along with my way of thinking and then and then

yeah it's life changing, now we need more fanart and more fic and life will be more beautiful

[choscar-op81]

[choscar-op81]

AZERBAIJAN GP 2024 | Oscar on the podium for his 2nd win 🧡

[choscar-op81]

new fic!!! choscar post baku hurt/comfort (_:

[choscar-op81]

Choscar moved me after Baku so I wrote fic about them

[choscar-op81]

very good I'm waiting for the next part🥰

This ship has made me do it. My first ever fanfic and first time writing fiction after more than 10 years. So any comments and constructive feedback is welcome. Sorry in advance for making Lestappen toxic in this and Max the villain. I love this ship, but it's dynamic is perfect to contrast with 16/81.

Also, despite that I do have a university degree from an english speaking country, it's still not my first language, so my apologies for any typos or grammar mistakes, or for clumsy and clunky writing.

Untitled Choscar fic that's was supposed to be one shot. But might write a part II.

Rated T: implied past Lestappen with Choscar endgame, it's retrospective (from the present to the past). Alternating POV's, most of the fic is written from Oscar's perspective

Warnings: heavily implied toxic relationship dynamics

After him and Oscar started being more than friends, Charles got caught completely off guard, because he didn't know that being in a relationship could be this easy. Since his chaotic and bordering on abusive on-again-off-again/ friends with benefits situation with his closest rival Max came to an abrupt end during the winter break, just before the pre-season testing was about to start. Because after many years of the endless cycle of fighting, mind games, then making up, rinse and repeat Charles realised that the relationship is taking too big of a toll on him and is hindering his progress as a racing driver. As well as because him and Max are at it's core, too similar in the worst of ways, bringing each other's worst qualities to the daylight. Especially outside the racetrack.

While while the same couldn't be said about him and Oscar with whom, despite seemingly having nothing in common and having different temperaments, they've managed to bring the best out of each other and learn from one another, with significantly less friction.

****

The way the two of them came together seemed effortless and as the natural progression. Because Charles has known Oscar for years, since he was Arthur's teammate in Prema, but back then only in passing, since he was focusing on his own career and wanted to give Arthur space and opportunity to make new friends on his own.

Then, during Oscar's rookie season, they've met again and had a few conversations not managing to speak much because Lando seemed to be contractually obligated to chaperone his teammate and would whisk Oscar away from conversations that he wasn't personally involved. And Max, depending if they were fighting, sometimes was trying to 'apologise' with striking up conversation to Charles about the most random things, just to get him talking. And Charles, what Max perfectly knew, couldn't turn him away, since there were cameras everywhere and that'd raise a lot of questions by the media.

However, since the end of the 2023 season and various sponsor and media engagements, they've finally started properly hanging out thanks to the meddling ways of Arthur. Who'd invite over to his flat Charles to play some video games, have lunch or just to chill and Oscar would be there too, more often than not, since he was flat sitting for Lando visiting Daniel in Australia and god knows where else. This is also how Oscar finally ended finding out about the true nature of the relationship between Charles and Max.

One day while Oscar, Charles and Arthur were playing a game, Charles's phone started ringing. Despite that, the older monegasque didn't make any move to pick it up. The australian who was sitting on the right side, just next to where the phone was lying, saw that the caller ID said 'Max V.' which made him a bit curious.

"Max is calling, aren't you going to pick it up?"Looking at Charles and then noticing the older driver's demeanor changing just for a split second, a flash of fear before he schooled his face into his PR smile. The guard going up instantly, which made Oscar completely baffled, given how close and friendly the two rivals seemed. So he looked over to Arthur and shot a questioning look who shook his head and mouthed "not now" to the australian which raised even more questions, but he chose not to say anything.

"Yes, of course, I didn't notice" replying with a nervous smile, that didn't reach his eyes, before pausing the game and taking the phone with him to what seemed to be a bedroom and closing the door after him.

Oscar was about to ask Arthur to tell what's going on but then started to hear the muffled one sided conversation.

"Hello, cherr- Max, sorry I am at Arthur's playing a game" Told Charles with a joyful voice.

"Yes, I know that I've promised to come over, I'm still going to in a couple of hours, lost the track of time a bit" This time, in more apologetic tone.

There was a long pause and then... "I am not having this conversation with you now. I already said that I'm sorry. I won't repeat myself. For fucks sake, my world doesn't revolve around you. Just a few days ago you didn't have any problem with that. Why now, Verstappen?" The Ferrari driver spat out. Oscar never seen nor heard him to be this angry outside the car, or even to refer the dutchman by his last name when he wasn't talking to the media.

"Do you know if this.... common occurrence?" The Australian asked Arthur, praying that his monotone voice will mask how truly curious he was about the situation.

The younger monegasque looked around, leaned closer and whispered "Yes, it's been like that for years. It's been an open secret in the paddock. I'm surprised you didn't find out throughout the year with Lando being your teammate and a friend of Max"

"Well yeah, but it never came up, I guess. I'm trying to lay low and not get involved in the gossip" Oscar replied slowly, trying comprehend the bombshell just dropped on him. The dots have suddenly started connecting.

In the background, the conversation has seemingly started to calm down. The Ferrari driver's tone less frantic. "... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, see you soon"

"Don't tell Charles I've said anything. He'll strangle me in my sleep" Arthur demanded half jokingly, looking over to the closed door again.

But before Oscar could even acknowledge it, the bedroom door opened and Charles walked out of the room, smiling sheepishly and looking over to his brother and the McLaren driver.

"Sorry boys, need to go, completely forgot that I've promised Max... to help setting up his new PC, he can't play Fifa without it" said Charles awkwardly, doing a piss poor job at lying. While collecting his car keys, wallet and sunglasses from a coffee table nearby.

"I will see you out" The McLaren driver suddenly bursted out, before he could even think about it.

In the meantime, Arthur walked up to his brother said goodbyes to his brother by giving a hug and with some words in rapid french with a concerned look on this face, while Charles seemingly replied reassuringly, patting the younger Leclerc on his shoulder. After this exchange, Oscar and the Ferrari driver were left alone to walk up to a small corridor that had a closet and a shoe rack. Neither of them said anything until Charles finished putting his shoes on.

Then the older driver turned to Oscar "It was nice to see you, as always. Feel free to come hang out with us... or with me while you are still in Monaco, mate" then reaching for Oscar, who thought that Charles was going for a handshake, but actually went for a hug, ending up in awkward half hug.

Despite that, the monegasque squeezed the australian, slightly too long for guys who were barely an acquintances before letting go. Oscar trying his best to reciprocate, ignoring how giddy this simple touch felt, wanting just stay like that forever. But didn't have the right to do so, they weren't nowhere as close in comparison to that.... situation Charles had with Max.

"Likewise, maybe you'll have time to teach me some padel. I'm just getting a hang of it" The Australian beamed.

"Of course, l will ask Joris to book us a court, just text me when you'll be free. I really need to go now, you know Max, he is not the biggest fan of waiting... For anything. See you around" The Ferrari driver rambled, waved and closed the door behind him.

Oscar turned around and started walking back to Arthur to continue playing the game, not entirely understanding why the whole situation left him feeling so bittersweet. Very thankful for his ability to not let the conflicting emotions to reflect on his face.

****

A couple of days later, once Oscar met both Leclerc's for a couple of drinks a low-profile bar and Charles was wearing a turtleneck and had a few purple marks visible near his ear and jawbone, while blushing slightly every time Arthur teased him about it. If it made the Oscar to feel slight resentment towards a certain dutch world champion, it was no one's business.