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blerb-f1 · 7 months

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" Cooked Australian"

Oscar Piastri x trad goth!reader

Qatar left Oscar quite dead but at least a eery kind doctor is there to revive him

“Haaaa” Oscar sighed, laying down on the couch in his driver’s room. Qatar was an absolute drain of a race and Lando’s pushing at the end surely didn’t help his wellbeing. His Legs felt weak and wobbly as he hobbled back into the room. He fell onto the ground, air spinning. Leaving a voice message on some group was all he could muster, laying on the ground.

As little ducks started spinning in the air above him, the door opened after a short knock. He saw a person step in, clad in fully black clothes. Some kind of goth. White Makeup melting off her face as she got on her knees next to him.

“I’m Y/N, Oscar. I’m a registered Doctor, I'll help you, okay? The team sent me. I’ll put you into an ice bath, for that I need to take off your clothes. Is that fine?”

Oscar nodded weakly. He really didn’t care about being seen. All he could think of was relief.

He felt a cool towel being placed on his head and water gurgling into a plastic basin. Shortly after he felt his race suit being pulled off, then his fireproof. The cold air was almost uncomfortable on his steaming skin.

“I’ll wipe you down first, okay? So that you won’t get flashed by the cold.” the voice said, her voice having a comforting melody to it. He flinched under the cold cloth passing over his skin, but it had turned into relief white soon.

“I need you to tense up now. That makes lifting you easier.”

Oscar did as asked, tensing his worn muscles as much as he could manage. The woman grabbed him before letting him sink into the water. Once again, big flinch.

The water bit at his skin as more sweat poured over his head, burning his sensitive skin. “Close your eyes please.”

Cold water brushed over his head, he felt his hair being gone through and then a headband pushed it up. A soft towel cleaning his face again.

“Have a drink please”

The usual driver's straw hit his lips and he gingerly drank from it. The water tasted disgusting, probably riddled with things good for the body.

Oscar fully leaned back against the plastic tub, just sipping the water offered to him. Finally his conscience started returning to him as he felt the Lady -Y/N- being her name, take his pulse.

He stared up at her, the white and black make-up now fully smudged and half run off from all the water she had handled. The jet black hair had started sticking together and her black clothes equally wet.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” she asked him, worried in her eyes.

“...Yeah” he weekly voiced, a smile crossing his face at her big panda eyes.

“hm?” she asked. “What's making you smile?”

“Your makeup. It's gone.” Oscar stated quickly.

She fumbled around in her handbag, getting out a beautiful classic looking mirror, eyeing her appearance. “I look like garbage. Not like you’re in better shape though.” She twisted the mirror for him to see his reflection.

Red face, swollen and exhausted. His hair was pushed up with a fluffy cat eared headband. The water made a splashing noise as she put a little duck in there before grabbing back her mirror and some wipes. Strong wipes and water splashes helped take off her makeup . An equally exhausted face appeared underneath the strong mask covering it.

“So you’re not alone. I’m just outside the room. Try not to drown please. I'll report to the team. They're worried about you, allright.”

Oscar splished around in the Water before finally feeling good enough to step out. He gently stepped out, falling back on his lounge chair. The stack of towels was already prepared as he started drying himself off, grabbing fresh clothes from his drawers. Being dressed again, he flopped back onto the chair, eyeing the room. The entire floor was covered in water and wet towels, his racesuit buried in a big stack of orange Frotte. Oscar returned to sipping his water, watching the rubber duck spin in circles as he saw the door open again.

Y/N gasped. “Who said you could walk yourself? Did you get hurt?!”

“No” was his simple factual statement.

Y/N looked around the room, grabbing a new bottle from the deep bottoms of her leather coat. “Here, drink this instead. Tastes better.” She pushed his special straw in the new bottle, handing it over. Oscar took a sip. It did taste better.

Y/N had brought a laundry basket in which she threw the towels and his sweaty clothes before pushing it out of the door.

She then lifted the storage bin that posed as his bath, letting the water down the drain. A last towel served as a mop to reduce the room's slipping hazard.

The woman looked quite proud of her work as she placed her hands on her hips, procuring her bag again and disappearing in his bathroom. A while later she re-emerged , dressed in a fresh change of equally black clothes and new , but simpler, makeup applied on her face.

“Ready to show yourself to the Team Oscar?”

He nodded. No point in dilly-dallying, he’d have to go outside either way.

supported by Y/N’s Arm, he stepped outside. The bright lights being aggressive on his still bloodshot eyes.

The team was looking up with nervous expressions. Apparently, they were all quite worried.

‘Quite a surprise’, Oscar thought. He was sure they’d worry about Lando more, him being their Driver 1 but apparently, no. Zack Brown was quick to approach him, checking his appearance up and down with hawklike, watchful eyes. With his Hand patting Oscar's Shoulder, he pulled him into a warm, comfortable hug.

“You did well Oscar.”

Oscar looked up at Zack, at Lando whose Face was trying to hide his own disappointment and at all the mechanics that had worked so hard the season. While this surely wasn’t a win, nonetheless it was something many drivers had never reached in their entire life. A little droplet escaped his eyes, quickly hiding it behind his sleeve. One thing confused him however, where exactly did Y/N come from?

Zack answered as if he could read his thoughts. “Good that Y/N was already here, otherwise we would have had to drag you to the medical center but the cameras were like Hyenas today. They caught Lance and Alex at some very unfortunate angles.”

“Why was Y/N here?”

“She’s currently in training as Replacement for Dr. Ian Roberts. He feels like his body isn’t that movable anymore so he wants to relocate towards research and Development for Driver Security. The FIA held open tests. We told you about them, don't you remember?”

Oscar tried his hardest to remember but that mention must have escaped him.

“Of course you dont. “ siggghhh “Anyway, Y/N was the one that passed the tryouts so she’s currently being trained by Dr. Roberts himself. While she doesn’t have as much experience in the medical field as him, the knowledge required for this position is way too specialized anyway to be learned in a normal Hospital.”

Y/N nodded as if agreeing with the Statement, before adding:”Theoretically today was just my first look at the job. First thing I have to do besides learning about Drivers Injuries is getting used to the fast driving. Alan has been doing some rounds around Qatar with me. I don't know how you endure that at those speeds. I had a good vomit into a flower Basket the second he stopped the Medical Car.” She chuckled before tugging her Hair back. “The fastest I've ever gone was 130kmh and my little Hyundai felt like it was exploding. “

“I could take you for a spin if you’d like. Maybe that will help you get used to it?”

Oscar’s breath hiked. Had he actually said that loudly? That was just an intrusive thought, how could he just- “Wait some time, Cowboy. At least until you’re not looking like the walking dead anymore.”

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*ping*

Oscar had spent the last three days resting in his UK Apartment, just on standby after the drain that was Qatar. That is, until a Message by an unknown number appeared. He expected it to be another insane fan or some scam nigerian prince, willing to share his inheritance.

It was, however, neither of those.

> HII OSCAR > This is Y/N - Logan gave me your number after I checked on him! > I wanted- *message deleted* > i wanted to take you up on your offer!

Which offer had he made her again? Offer, Offer…OH JEEPERS A drive around a track.

*ping*

> Friends of Mine are at Snetterton today. > would that work for you?

Snetterton? Oscar did some quick calculations. It was early morning, the drive would take around 3 hours. 2 if he were to speed…

< Sure! I’ll see you at Snetterton!

Shit. That wasn’t one of his smartest moments, not by a long shot. Oscar quickly jumped in his bath, getting ready. He picked some clothes that looked appropriate while getting the swoop in his hair in order. Rushing outside, he grabbed his bag with a race suit and helmet - he might need it at a Race Track?-, dumping it onto the car's passenger seat while sliding into the Driver's Seat. “Google, Route to Snetterton Race Track.”

His McLaren Artuna had been fueled up to the brim, thankfully. Time to make a 3h track in 2 hours.

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As he pulled into the Carpark, Oscar realized he had made a big mistake. This wasn’t the privately booked tracks he was used to, it was open track day. With many gearheads that were sure to recognise him. What had he done?

As Oscar pulled into a parking space (much better than Charles would have ever done!) his phone made a 'ping!' again.

> We’ve just arrived! Should we pick you up at your Car? < Yes please, i’m at E5. The Papaya McLaren > 😂 ofc > keep your sunglasses on, if you have them > My friends car is…embarrassing

Shortly after that message, with his sunglasses covering his face as he leaned against his car, he heard a horrible farty noise approach him.

‘Please don't be it. Please don't be it he prayed to himself. But Alas, his Luck has run out.

The car approaching him was a riced Golf V. Massive farty exhaust, fugly bodykit and an even more hideous paintjob covering the gullwing doors that were opening

Had he seen that correctly? Gullwing Doors.

He had, horrifyingly enough. He saw Y/N sitting in the Passenger Seat, her Hair teased up highly, Large Cat Eye Sunglasses hiding her expression. The white paint on her skin being lit up by the Cars ugly RGB Light-interieur. She had lifted her gloved hands to wave at him before lifting her long skirt to step out.

“I’m so glad we were able to find you! This is madness! So many people buzzing about"

Oscar looked around. Yeah, Madness. The McLaren Cap on his head, the McLaren car and the helmet he brought which had turned out to be his actual race helmet, would probably only strengthen this madness.

As he was about to disappear into his own mind, the horrible engine farts stopped and the driver stepped out. A young woman in Overalls, blond braid and equally large sunglasses.

She stretched her hand to shake. He took it.

“I’m Jessica, Y/N’s friend. You don’t have to hide your expression, we know how ugly this car is. I’m a mechanic and sadly the one paid to build this monstrosity.”

Osar let out a sigh of relief. He knew how clear his thoughts were on his face, not knowing how long he would have to disguise the disgust.

“Also, Y/N mentioned you being some kind of driver. I have no clue about Motorsports so don’t worry, I won't rat you out or something. All I care about is testing this fartcannon because the owner actually wants to go on track with it.”

“Have you invited me to try it then?”

“No, that’s Jessica’s Job. She’s insured if something were to go wrong. I’m not stopping you though if you want.”

Oscar eyed the fartcannon and a sense of morbid curiosity overcame him. Something in him wanted to know what this thing drove like.

“Give me the keys!”

As Oscar settled into the Driver’s Seat, he took note of the car's shift pattern, pulling out. He considered putting on his helmet in case of this shitbox falling apart but being smashed to small chunks appeared more appealing than being found alive but injured in it.

He pushed the Sunglasses higher on his nose. Gotta do at least something.

As he shifted up the gears, eye focused on the whimpering boost gauge and body concentrated on the fighting street tires. The other normal street cars looked in awe as this fast fartcannon flew by them. BMWs, Mercs and even some Porsches couldn't stand against this expertly built Ricer.

That was until he heard some controlled throat noises behind him. A short Glance in the rear-view Mirror revealed that Y/N was struggling to keep her breakfast down. As stopping wasn't allowed, Oscar tried his hardest to slowly and calmly drive back to the parking area.

A group of people that had seen this mad car had appeared to catch a glimpse of it but they were quickly stopped by Oscar who’d asked them where the toilets were.

While Jessica was away with Y/N, Oscar hid in the car to not be discovered. As the two women returned Sade just eyed the Car with massive disgust.

“I’m not getting in there again.” She stated clearly, trying to fix her rustled clothes.

At that moment, as if heaven sent, Jessica looked at her phone as a call came in. The owner wanted his car back, she would have to go home. YN would have to take a train home instead.

“I could drive you, '' Oscar offered. “It’ll be dark later. I wouldn't want you traveling alone in the dark”

YN appeared to consider her choices before finally coming to a conclusion.

“I’d appreciate you driving me. But first, we gotta finish a lap. A singular lap at least. I have to get used to this.”

Jessica bid her farewells, disappearing in the fartcannon, wondering how Y/N even got a position in Motorsport while getting Car Sick.

Oscar helped her into the Artura, settling into his own seat.

“I'll take it slow for the first lap”

Oscar did as promised, one slowish round of Snetterton with People curiously eying the car. This mostly being the fact that it was working, which most Artura didn't.

Then came a fast Lap. Y/N grabbed the doors tightly, Fear imminent though her painted face but success. No throwing up.

Wasn't that a start?

The young driver pulled his car back into the car park, curiously glancing at his passenger again. YN was looking a bit unsettled but much better than before, not that he could tell from her face color though. As he turned the engine off, Y/N leaned back, sighing loudly.

“I really didn’t consider that I might get sick at high speeds when I applied for this job.”

“Have you ever driven a car fast before, Y/N?” was Oscar's first proper question. “On a track or even a street?”

She appeared to actually think of an equally proper answer before turning to respond. “Not really.My little Hyundai gets to 130 kmh if i push it but that's above the speed limit. And on a Racetrack? On my own? Never."

Oscar unbuckled his seatbelt, swinging his legs out and opening the passenger door instead.

“You drive.” Y/N looked at him in Confusion, still getting into the driver's seat though.

“Why should I drive this car?” she simply asked.

“Why? Because this is a track. Being a passenger is one thing but driving yourself another. Maybe this will help you be less car sick.”

Y/N sat there in Oscar's Sitting position, not daring to touch anything on this car. “I can't drive this! It’s way too expensive! What if I bin it?”

“McLaren’s just gonna have to get me another then.”

“I don’t know how to drive an automatic!”

“Any idiot can drive an automatic.”

Y/N let out a sound of defeat before adjusting her seat according to Oscars Instructions, searching for the Key in the Ignition.

“How do I turn this on?”

“You don’t need your left leg. Right foot on the break, the start buttons right next to the wheel”

She did as told and the engine came alive with a loud hum.

“How do I put it in gear?”

“The D for dumbass button in the center console. Boy am I glad I reversed into this parking spot. Oh be careful, you have combined like 600hp more than your Hyundai so better be AHHHH”

The car shot forward as Y/N had engaged the gas pedal way too much, more akin to pushing a little three cylinder car than a V6 Hybrid.

“Now please”, Oscar continued, clutching whatever he could to stay alive, “P l e a s e be careful with the brakes. These will be much stronger than the old ass ones on your car. I don’t particularly possess the desire to die in Snetterton”

Y/N directed the Car onto the Track, curious eyes watching why this expensive car is so unstable. Oscar himself was less worried about the car itself and more about his own survival as Y/N had discovered the Joy of Speed. Colin McRae would have been proud of her as she started racing around at what was flat out speed to her, intimating Sunday Drivers by letting the engine howl up behind them or slowing down just to speed up and overtake.

As she finally pulled into the parking lot again, putting the Car into “Park” as instructed, he found himself feeling as tired as he did after Qatar. Was this how his parents felt when driving along with him back when he got his license?

“Oscar, the Cluster is rattling?”

“Oh yeah, it’s been like that the entire time, you were just distracted. These Arturas are notorious for breaking down. I was lowkey hoping you’d bin it so that I would get something more reliable.”

“I think McLaren would have sued me for killing their Car.”

"Nonsense. You saved me from becoming a cooked Australien back in Qatar. If they would have sued you, I'd have announced my move to Red Bull or something.”

“Oscar, it says … The display overheated?”

“I didn’t even know a Display could overheat. Maybe i’ll get my reliable pink Toyota Vitz now”

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The next day Zack Brown found himself quite unhappy as he discovered a copy of ‘The Sun’ laid on his desk. The cover displayed his youngest Driver Oscar Piastri standing at the side of the road, next to him the new F1 Medic Y/N in her Darkest Sunday's Best and in the middle, a smoking, Papaya coloured McLaren Artura. Or to be even more specific, a burning one. As emphasized by the Fire Trucks closeby.

He angrily slammed down his cup of coffee before reading the title aloud. “McLaren Star Oscar Piastri caught having a Car BBQ along with a Clown doubling as Funeral Director”

As he took his breaths, deep breaths at that, he came to a single conclusion: While this situation was not great, at least he neither was the FIA and had to deal with Cooked Drivers in Qatar or the entire Aston Martin Social Media Team.

#f1 x reader #Oscar Piastri x reader #Oscar Piastri #blerb writes

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