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5ugarand5pice · 1 year

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Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

(can we pretend it says silverstone instead of melbourne thank you)

Part 1: Dear Reader | Part 2: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve | Part 3: coming soon

pairing: driver! reader x f1 grid

inspired by: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve by Taylor Swift (ik the song is unrelated but if anyone wants to cry over the possible Taylor and Joe split, my dms are open)

a/n: a couple months late but you asked and now you shall receive! thank you so much for all the love for Dear Reader, it means the world to me 🥹🤍 super sorry for going ghost (went thru a breakup, cried over a 🤢boy🤢 and tried to get my shit together) but i’m all good now and better than ever! definitely in my reputation era which means y/n will be too... soon. anyways, hope you like this and sending everyone hugs esp after the shitshow that was the aus gp (justice for carlos!!)

warning/s: a bit sad??? longer than i expected it would be but yes

If you would've blinked then I would've Looked away at the first glance If you tasted poison, you could've Spit me out at the first chance And if I was some paint, did it splatter On a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter If you got to wash your hands?

The rest of your time in Monaco was spent coordinating with your team on possible moves forward in F1. Come Tuesday morning, you and Abi were on the way to your home country, a half-assed plan and bundle of nerves in your hands.

“It’ll be alright. You’ve got a kickass mom who’ll drag Christian’s ass to court and back if she has to and you also have me. You know I got your back— even if it means breaking a law or two.” Abi says, squeezing your hand twice as you make your way to your family home.

“For legal reasons, that was a joke.” you chuckle.

“Please, I’ll even help you bury the body.” your mom replies, giving you a small wink from the driver's seat.

You shake your head as you smile, the familiarity of the scenery as well as the playful conversations with your mom and Abi bring you a sense of comfort you had missed. It’s good to be home.

When your mom had pulled up to the driveway, your grandparents were already waiting by the door, a small banner written “welcome back home girls!” in your Nana’s penmanship.

“I missed you guys so much.” you almost cry out as you reach in for a hug.

“Our little racer isn’t so little anymore.” Nana coos.

“We watched your race in Austria, sweetheart. Almost forgot how much of a softie you actually are when I saw you drive.” Papa teases.

“Don’t tell outsiders that she’s a softie, we have a reputation to uphold over here.” Abi pipes, tone going high as she struggles with her bag.

“As if everyone doesn’t know that she’s a softie.” Nana says as she rolls her eyes affectionately.

You all chuckle as you finally make your way inside, Nana noting that she would have supper set up at 6pm.

The rest of the afternoon was spent settling in your respective rooms. Wandering around as you take in your surroundings, a picture frame on your dresser catches your attention.

The 2017 British Grand Prix.

Oh, God. If only you knew.

Oh, oh All I used to do was pray Would've, could've, should've If you'd never looked my way

You placed third at the Formula 2 British Grand Prix. Ahead of you was Charles Leclerc and your teammate, Norman Nato, respectively.

“You know, if he weren’t so cute, I would definitely be screaming at him for overtaking you like that.” Abi mutters as she hands you a towel.

“Please, we both know you’d probably use that as an excuse to make a move.” you playfully scoff as you wipe your face.

“I would,” she shrugs, “but I’m rooting for your enemies to lovers love story”.

“Oh, Abi.” you sigh, “Where did you get that idea?”

“Please, you’ve seen the way he looks when you pass by.” she giggles as she mocks what you assume were lovestruck eyes.

“Quit it. He doesn’t like me like that. He just” you pause, “has that charm.”

“Sure,” she grins, “but when you guys end up together, I’ll be mentioning this moment in my Maid of Honor speech.”

Before you can protest, Kenny Kirwan, your team manager, clears his throat behind you.

“Y/n, Abi, I’d like to introduce you to Christian Horner, the team principal of Red Bull Racing.” he tilts his head to his right.

“Christian, This is Y/n, this is our driver I’ve been telling you about. We’re lucky to have her in our team.” he continues, his smile faltering as you remain stoic.

“Hi. I’m Abi. Her social media manager and best friend.” Abi speaks up, breaking the awkward silence. She extends her hand, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Nice to meet you.” he grins, shaking her hand. “Congrats on second, by the way. I’m so proud of you.” he looks at you, engulfing you in what you suspect was one of those weird man clap hugs.

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” you smile, immediately pulling away. “I didn’t think you would watch my races.”

“I try to. You’ve been progressing well.” he comments.

“Planning to win the championship, so, you know, gotta get those points.” you reply, shifting your weight between your legs.

“You can do it. You are your father’s daughter after all.” he smirks.

“Uhuh.” you wince.

Kenny does his best to ease the tension, raving about how he discovered your talent and how much potential you have to further in Formula 1.

“Well, it’s been lovely catching up with you but we really have to go. We promised Lorelei we’d be home before late to celebrate.” Abi interrupts.

“Oh! Of course.” he smiles awkwardly. “Um, before you go, maybe you’d want to go to the race tomorrow? I’d love to have you as my guest.”

“Sure. I’d like that. Abi’s my plus one.” you reply. “If that’s okay.” you quickly add, to which he smiles.

“Of course. Well, I’ll go ahead. Gotta get ready for FP3 and quali. You still have the same number?” Christian asks.

All you do is nod as he walks away, a dumbfounded Kenny following suit.

“Wait ‘til your mom hears about this.” Abi breaks you out of your trance, yanking your arm to lead you to your room.

I would've stayed on my knees And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

As it turns out, Formula 1 had a completely different vibe from Formula 2; the screams were louder, the air was hotter and everyone seemed more tense. However, no one was as tense as you.

“I don’t know Abi.” you sigh, your hands gripping the wheel. “What if it’s worse than yesterday?” you turn to look at her.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, eyes trained on the mirror as she applies yet another layer of lip gloss.

“His wife can hate me. I get run over. I run over someone. I make a fool out of myself in the paddock. I unintentionally ruin my chances of ever becoming a Formula 1 driver which will then stop me from achieving my dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion.” your grip tightening as you ramble on.

Abi glances at your hands, sensing that you were about to slip into one of your spirals. She immediately grabs a hold of those and squeezes twice. Breathe In.

“She’ll love you. You won’t be on the track. You won’t be driving. You can always apologize and flash your adorable smile. I won’t let you ruin your chances. You will become a formula 1 driver. You will become world champion. It’s going to be fun, trust me” her hands squeezing yours twice again. Breathe Out.

“Fuck it. Okay. Let’s do this.” you mutter, quickly closing your windows and stepping out of your car.

The two of you pass through the gates, feeling a bit out of place and out of your element as a guest. Christian gave the two of you a tour of the Red Bull hospitality, introducing you to the crew while at it. Although they all seemed nice, your stomach churned every time surprise would flash their face when Christian introduced you as his daughter.

When time was nearing the race, he excused himself to look for his drivers. Abi left as well, muttering something about finding the ladies’ room. That left you standing alone in a corner of the garage, too shy to add on to the hustle and bustle of the race day.

“You look lonely, want some company?” you hear a voice to your right.

“Oh! Um, sure. If you want.” you reply, flustered.

“Okay.” he heartily laughs, “So, are you here for a sponsor or something?” he asks.

“A personal guest? I think.” you chuckle, “It’s complicated.”

“Well, complicated, nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.” he grins, offering you his hand to shake.

“I actually know who you are.” you smile back as you shake his hand, “Not that I stalk you or anything! I’ve watched a few of your races.”

“I’m a driver too. Well, currently in Formula 2.” you continue, embarrassment tinging your cheeks, “Y/n y/l/n”.

“Oh no, more young drivers!” he dramatically gasps, “Another reminder that I’m aging.”

“You don’t look a day over 70!” you joke, face immediately paling when you realize what you just said. “Oh God! I’m so-”, your apology cut off by Daniel's laughter.

“Oh, I like you. You’re funny.” he breathily sighs. “We can be friends now.”

“So sense of humor is part of your friendship checklist?” you tease, mentally thanking whichever angel God sent you. “Sadly you didn’t tick that box on mine.”

“Okay,” he pouts his lips. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” you roll your eyes.

“Chickens.”

“Chickens who?”

“Enkkk.” he voices out, mimicking a buzzer. “Owls hoot, chickens cluck.”

You purse your lips. “A for effort. We should be friends so we can work on your sense of humor, grandpa.”

Daniel scoffs and places his hands on his chest, feigning hurt.

“Daniel!” someone hollers. “Mate, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Damn it.” Daniel chuckles. “I really thought I was gonna win at hide and seek this week.”

“Christian says we have to go over some notes before the race” he goes on, clueless to your presence.

“Well, it seems I have to bid you adieu.” Daniel turns to you, bowing to add to your amusement. “Till next time, mademoiselle.”

Daniel leaves, heading to what you guess is their meeting room. The stranger follows him, sending you a sheepish smile, presumably his form of apology for interrupting your conversation. You wave him off with a smile, shouting a quick “Good luck!” as they pass.

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed, then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was But, Lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

Despite both of the Red Bulls not being able to set foot on the podium, the garage still celebrated points; P4 for Daniel and P5 for his teammate, Max. Daniel, being Mister Congeniality, insisted (quite ruthlessly) that you come to the afterparty. This is how you and Abi ended up back in your room, flipping out over outfit options.

“I think we need to find you the perfect ensemble that screams I’m classy but I can be a slut if I want to.” Abi shouts from inside your closet, another batch of dresses being thrown towards the growing pile on the floor.

“I can’t look like a slut, Abi. My father might be there.” You mutter, setting up your makeup at the vanity.

As much as it bothered you, you knew better than to try to clean while Abi rummaged through your clothes. She once gave you an earful, going on about how messy people are creative geniuses. Thus, the artist shall not be disturbed.

“We’re trying to attract a driver and a driver’s seat, not your father. ” she gags, head peeking out of the closet. “Have you seen the way that Max guy looked at you?”.

“No, because I’m not looking at him.” you turn away. “Besides, I thought you were rooting for a certain Monegasque.”

“I am, but it's rude to disregard other contenders.” she shrugs, passing you a little black dress. “I think this is it. Max will definitely keep his eyes on you tonight.”

Just as always, Abi was right. When you had finally arrived at the pub, Max immediately spotted you, nudging Daniel towards your direction.

“Glad you can make it, mademoiselle.” Daniel greets you, reenacting his bow from earlier that day.

“Good evening, Sire.” you curtsy in response.

“May I escort thee to thy party chambers?” he continues his act, mimicking a posh accent you’ve mostly heard in period dramas.

“I’d be most delighted, o good Sir.” you nod, locking arms with him and Abi with the other. “I’d like to introduce my companion. Sir Daniel, meet Lady Abigail.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Abigail.” he waves with his free hand.

“You guys are crazy.” Abi snorts. “But likewise, Sir Daniel.”

He leads the two of you to a booth, excusing himself to get the two of you a drink. Max was still seated at the same spot, nursing a half empty bottle of beer.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with Daniel before the race and for not introducing myself then.” he sheepishly smiles at you. “I’m Max.”

“Y/n, and no worries about that. It was a busy time.” you smile back. “This is my friend by the way, Abi.”

“Congrats on P5.” she nods at him, eyes immediately darting back to the crowd.

Before Max could get another word in, Daniel returns with drinks in his hands.

“Three margaritas for the lovely ladies and myself.” he gives a cheeky smile while passing out the drinks. “Another beer for Max.”

The four of you spent the night getting to know each other better. Halfway through your drinks, Daniel excuses himself to mingle with other guests. Abi excuses herself as well, saying she needs to get water but you later catch her wink at you while a guy talks her up at the bar. That bitch (affectionately).

“So, you come to races often?” Max asks, shifting your attention back to him.

“Mostly busy with my own but I watch you guys from time to time.” you smile.

“You race too?” he chokes on his drink.

“Currently in Formula 2, yes.” Handing him a tissue, you chuckle. “I kinda take offense at your shock.”

“Sorry, it’s just that-” he starts off, wiping off his lips. “I think it’s best if you don’t finish that sentence.” you giggle. “So, Max, how long have you been racing?”

“Well, pretty much ever since my dad thought I was old enough to start.” he mutters.

“So, since you were in the womb?” you joke.

“Pretty much.” he laughs. “You?”

“Similar. Got into it because of my dad as well but continued for myself.” you look down and fidget with your rings.

“Anyways,” he clears his throat. “What’s your favorite team?”

“Ferrari.” you grin. “Big Vettel fan here.”

“You were hanging out in the wrong garage then.” he muses. “Any way I can switch you over to my side?”

“I can be convinced,” you tease. “if given enough incentive.”

“How about I convince you over dinner?” he asks.

“Bold ask.” you giggle. “I’d have to think about that.”

Oh, oh You're a crisis of my faith Would've, could've, should've If I'd only played it safe

At that time, it seemed like the world was working in your favor. You had three consecutive podiums in Hungaroring, Spa and Monza. To add to the excitement, all of those races coincided with that of the F1 calendar, giving you more chances to hang out in the Red Bull garages.

The highlight, though, would be Monza. After winning first place, Christian invited you to breakfast to celebrate and “make up for lost time”. Abi, being the perfect balance of tough love and unending support, decided it’d be best for you to go alone, much to your dismay. You paced back and forth in the hallway, making a mental list of things to not bring up. Your thoughts come to a halt when you hear the click of the door, revealing Geri on her way out.

“Y/n! Christian’s inside. You can just head in.” she smiles, hand holding the doorknob.

“Oh, okay.” you breathe out. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“It’s alright.” she chuckles. “He’s nervous too if that’s any consolation.”

“A little.” you giggle. “Um, I hope it’s not an intrusion. Me being here, I mean.”

“That’s nonsense!” she exclaims. “I just thought it’d be better for the two of you to talk things out alone. But, if you’re open to it, I’d love to get to know you better as well.”

“I’d like that.” you exhale. “Well, I think I should head in.”

“Of course.” she laughs, moving towards the lift. Turning around she says, “He’s trying, you know.”

Not knowing what to say, you offer a smile and head inside their room.

“Honey, do you think she’d want more food? Or is this enough?” you hear him shout.

Heading towards the dining area, you chuckle. “She left already. But, if you’re planning to feed the entire grid, maybe we can order more food.”

“Y/n.” he grins. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“You too.” you mutter, taking a seat opposite him.

“So,” he clears his throat. “I saw you win yesterday, congratulations!”

“Thanks.” you beam. “I heard you guys got P2 and P3 for quali. Must be looking forward to this race huh?”

“Quite.” he hands you a plate of waffles. “You still like this, right?”

“You remembered.” you gasp. “Even the strawberries and bananas.”

“I checked with your mom to make sure I got it right.” his cheeks tinges with embarrassment. “Gotta feed next year’s potential F1 driver well.”

“What?” your jaw drops. “Formula 1?”

“I introduced you to Franz Tost for a reason. He told me he’d love to have you in Toro Rosso next year.” he muses. “Maybe after that, you’d be racing for Red Bull.”

“HOLY SHIT!” you scream. “Is this for real?”

“Yes. It is.” he chuckles.

“Wait, who’s leaving?” you pause.

“Well, you’ll be taking Daniil’s seat. Carlos is moving to Renault for the last few races which leaves you, hopefully, and Pierre to complete the team next year.”

“Will they still be racing next year?” you ask.

“Carlos will be with Renault and I’m still unsure about Kvyat.” he says. “So, thoughts?”

“I’d have to discuss it with my team but personally, it’d be an honor.”

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

You get up from your bed, hands still clutching the picture frame. Based on the dark view outside your window, you assume you overslept, completely missing supper. You tuck the frame in a random drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

You make your way to the kitchen, moving quietly to not wake anyone else up. You almost scream when you see your grandpa sitting on a barstool, a faint light casting a shadow.

“Why are you up so late?” you clutch your chest, trying to calm your heart.

“Just thinking, you know.” he mutters. “Worrying about you.”

“Oh Pa, I’m alright.” you hug him, taking a seat at his side. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, kiddo.” he breathes out. “I heard you crying earlier. I know you’re not fine.”

You sit there in silence. Although you were raised so open to emotions, you still had trouble expressing your own, worried about worrying others.

“When you had your first accident during your karting days, I freaked out. I almost had your mom pull you out, thinking that the sport was too much for you.” he starts. “Then, on our way to the car, you walked up to me and Nan and said, ‘look Pa! I have battle marks! I can go against the tough ones now!’. You had tears in your eyes and a bruise on your leg and arm, but you looked so happy.”

He grabs both of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the back. “I knew then I didn’t have to protect you, not because you didn’t need it. God knows I tried my best to do that. But, you didn’t want it. You were so good on your own.”

“Not to be a sexist asshole but there were times when I wished you chose a more common hobby. Ballet, piano, anything that didn’t have a high risk of me losing you.” he breathes out. “It wasn’t just the physical aspect too. I just- I see complete strangers say just cruel things about you and how you started losing bits of yourself.”

“You’ve grown, but I used to be able to still see that little racer in her braids and a goofy smile with a missing tooth. Now, it’s like you turned into this machine. I get that it’s a tough sport but I worry you will lose your heart and spirit.”

“I- ” you sniffle, “I love racing. I know that.”

“I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life but right now I feel so lost.” you continue. “I never would’ve imagined being this close to achieving my dreams and now it’s gone.”

“And it’s silly. Like, I know I have mom. I have you and Nan. Abi too.” you breathe in. “But he should’ve been part of my life as well. He’s not just mom’s friend from college who knocked her up. He’s my father.”

Although your tears start to flow, you continue. “As much as his absence hurt, I still tried. I gave up my childhood and other dreams I had to be here.”

“The worst part of it all was me thinking I finally got what I wanted. That I finally had a dad.” you exhale. “Then he sold my femininity to the world then threw me away.”

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time Oh, God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign

Heading to the track felt like hell, dread filled your stomach and your hands were clammy with sweat. For your sake, Abi had ensured you wouldn’t get any press time and to your surprise, the teams agreed. Thinking about it now, you assume it was to save their dwindling reputation. Although your social battery was at an all time low, you still stopped to interact with your fans on your way to and from the paddock. As genuine as your gratitude was, your smile and thank you’s were visibly forced.

Everyone knew what this race weekend meant to you. You’ve been looking forward to racing in Silverstone, making it your goal of the season to go on the podium at your home race in your dream team. However, that seems like something only possible in an alternate reality. Despite Max’s pleas of you staying in Red Bull, you refused. You didn’t even bother telling him about your shift back to Toro Rosso or that you had moved out of his place. He’ll find out one way or another.

Thankfully, your schedule and distance from their garage minimized your interactions with certain members of the Red Bull team. Nevertheless, keeping true to your promise, you invited Daniel and a couple other drivers to meals in between practices, doing your best to front a “I’m doing better than you think” facade. You even reached out to Alex Albon, making it clear that there is no bad blood between you and that his replacement isn’t something you took personally.

Come Sunday morning, you have grown accustomed to your new (or old) team. Staring at the mirror gave you a sense of deja vu; the bold text of “Red Bull” across your suit mocked you. Wiping off a few stray tears, you can’t help but think about yourself from a year ago and what she would’ve thought about your situation. Would she laugh at the irony or would she cry with you?

You turn around when you hear a faint knock. Abi peeks in, a small smile gracing her face. “It’s almost race time. Are you ready?”

“Fuck no.”

a/n: as always, would love to hear your thoughts so feedback is more than welcome (but please be kind) !!! to all that shared their love for Dear Reader, you have my heart and i hope this part did not disappoint 🫂 took a while to get here (seriously wrote a long ass piece then completely changed everything but ohwell) and i think i’m happy with the direction so far?? also, please let me know if you want to be part of the taglist or if it’s not working (still unsure abt how this works but i shall figure it out!)

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @holy-macncheese-balls @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @idkiwantchocolatee @dan3avocado @aquamariene-me

#red bull racing #dear reader #would've could've should've #midnights #F1 #f1 x reader #F1 drivers #Max Verstappen #max verstappen x reader

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