ੈ✩‧cherry Blossom In Suzuka (smau) ੈ✩‧

look me in the eye | pt.1

pairing: max verstappen x rbr!engineer!reader

summary: the rb21 seems unfixable but that might not be the only reason max verstappen wants you around.

a/n: kind of angsty? think this will be two parts. 2k-ish words!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The paddock is full of wind and empty promises. Bahrain's desert nights hold no warmth for those who find themselves at war with machines. Under the harsh lights of the Red Bull garage, your hands are stained with grease, burnt rubber and fuel having become your signature scent. The RB21 sits before you so still, like a child being yelled at. It's internals are exposed, betraying the effort you have poured into it. Another night. Another battle against the unworkable.

You wipe your forehead and the action leaves a dark trail.

"It's not you," Max's voice is acute in comparison to the exhausted engineers around you. "It's the car."

You sigh and rub your hand across your face again, leaving a another streak of oil on your cheek. "I've been through every possible variation of the floor. I've checked the suspension settings, even the cooling package. Nothing sticks. It’s like-"

"-like trying to control a wild animal?" he offers, a small smirk at the corner of his lips.

You huff. It could be a laugh, on some other day, but right now there is no humor in the situation. "More like taming a hurricane with duct tape."

Max leans against the workbench. His arms are crossed over his chest. Even under the brutal garage lights, even with this stupid car that no one but him can drive with some semblance of control, he's certain. "Well, you're still making it work."

That earns a scoff from you. "You make it work, Max. I just throw everything at the wall and hope something sticks."

His gaze sharpens, and it seems to pierce right through you. You, not just an engineer, but as a person who's given up everything to this job, to this team, to him.

"That's not true," he says quietly. "You don't just try. You build. You fix. You see what no one else does. And I-" He catches himself here, unsure how appropriate it'll sound. "I trust you."

The words, from him of all people, settle in your chest like an anchor. Trust is not given freely in Formula One; it is earned, lap by agonizing lap, through victories and through failures. You are not his race engineer. You're just another member of his team. There, hardly noticeable.

You doubt anyone outside RBR, outside the engineering teams, knows your name. Max Verstappen does, though, and that counts for something.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Australia is supposed to be a fresh start.

A new track, a chance to see if anything has changed. But as you watch Lando Norris cross the line in first place, with Max trailing behind in P2, your stomach sinks. The celebrations begin almost immediately. Confetti, cheers, McLaren mechanics embracing as if they had won the championship itself. You want to slap someone. In it feels like they have. They have proof that their car is faster, that their work is paying off in a way yours isn't.

Still, you push it down. Max fought for this podium, and you owe it to him to be happy.

When he walks into the garage, you're already there, waiting with the rest of the team. He’s drenched in sweat, his fireproofs clinging to his skin. He should be tired, but the familiar sharp focus is in his eyes, even now. He's always noticing things.

You force a smile and clasp his shoulder.

"P2, Max. You dragged that car through hell for it."

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. "It wasn't easy." Max gives you a small smile. The way it doesn't fully turn up at the ends of his mouth betrays how tired he really is, despite playing it off. "You gave me something to fight with."

You nod. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes either. The noise of celebration around you turning to static. He sees it. Of course he does.

Max opens his mouth to say something else, but he's getting pulled away again for some interviews.

Later, when the festivities have died down, he finds you outside the garage. Away from the crowd. You sit on a stack of worn-out Pirelli tire blankets, staring at the ground. The sound of approaching footsteps doesn't startle you.

"What are you doing out here? No alcohol?" he asks. He always speaks sharply, concisely, reassured. Not anymore-Max is asking you now as he would a frightened animal. Don't run, it's as if he's saying, please stay.

You let out a breath. The weight of the race, the season, all of it pressing against your ribs. And then, before you can stop yourself-

"You're right," you murmur. "The McLaren is faster. We lack the pace."

The answer doesn't come right away. He's standing there, watching you with what might be regret. Because those are his words from mere hours ago, right after the race. A loose admission in the media pen, thrown out without a second thought. Max was happy with his race, not elated but he did things and the car was in the way and he forgot momentarily about all the work. He likes to be truthful with his words but he's slipped up.

And now, you're here, breaking yourself apart over them.

Max crouches down in front of you. His elbows rest on his knees. "That doesn't mean you failed."

You shake your head. "Feels like it."

He doesn't know what to tell you. Sorry? I'm sorry I said that. I was mad at the car. It wasn't about you.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, hesitantly, he reaches out and rests a hand against your forearm.

"You don't give up," he says. "I don't. We adapt. We adapt."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Shanghai is a lesson in patience.

The RB21 struggles on the mediums and the first stint is agony. You were worried about the lack of pace, the way the tires degrade faster than they should be. "We set out to do our pace, which was a fair bit slower than the cars around us," he later tells the reports, frustration just beneath the surface. "I'm trying not to destroy the tires."

Your stomach knots as you watch the sector times, the data painting a bleak picture. But when the switch to hards comes, something shifts.

There, the grip. There, a chance.

Lap by lap, the car becomes drivable. Not perfect, not dominant, but workable. And Max, as always, wrings everything out of it.

It's not a podium but after the disqualifications, it becomes P4. A bittersweet relief.

You find him outside your hotel room. The soft, golden glow of the hallway lights casts shadows across his features, sharp angles of exhaustion softened by something else.

"You know," you say as you close the door behind you. "For a man who just got handed an almost-podium, you're not looking very victorious."

His mouth twitches. "Doesn't feel like one, does it? I didn't earn it."

You tilt your head, considering. "Maybe not. Still, you can't count yourself out. Drinks?" You drum your fingers against the already-open minibar.

Max turns his head to look at you. "You always say things like that."

"I actually don't encourage you to drink that much," you defend.

"No. I mean, like you actually believe in all this." He gestures vaguely around as if the world of Formula One is something that can be captured in a single movement. "In the fight. Things turning around."

You shrug and take out a bottle. "Sure I do."

He studies you for longer than necessary, then shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Crazy talk."

You feign offense and hold the drink close to your chest. "I am an engineer, Max. I deal in hard data and numbers. You're the intuitive one."

"Right." He eyes you, ever the skeptic. "Yet here you are, like a motivational quote board."

You grin. "Maybe I'm just trying to keep you from spiraling."

Max exhales through his nose, amused. "And here I thought I was keeping you from losing hope."

"Guess we're just stuck with each other then."

“Could be worse." His voice is lower now, the teasing edge giving way to something quieter.

The banter fades and here's a chance for you to do something. To let it sink in, to grasp the awful rawness of the moment. You don't know how.

"'least it's not Russell," you tell him. He flinches. It's small but doesn't slip your sight and you feel bad for making fun when he's trying to have a serious discussion. "Sorry. Feelings, hard. You know," you continue, "I think you actually had fun today."

His lips press together as if he's about to deny it. Instead, he relents. "Maybe a little."

"A miracle," you murmur.

"Don’t tell anyone."

You smirk. "Your secret's safe with me. Maybe we should hold off on the alcohol. Tipsy me isn't as trustworthy."

"I don't know about that." Max pretends to think. "Why don't we find out?"

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

When the sun wakes you up, Max has already managed to stumble back to his own room. Not entirely true. You just know he's no longer piss-drunk in yours.

Truth be told, you aren't as reluctant to spend time with him as you once were. His arrogant nature has softened with time. He's funny sometimes. But that isn't the only reason.

Red Bull was a hot mess the end of 2024. It is still one. You aren't out of options. You are friends with a friend who is friends with a head at McLaren and the offer sounds pretty good right now.

It's just a question of Max or Lando or Oscar. Or maybe there isn't a question at all.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Suzuka's next on your bucket list.

Red Bull's struggles have been the focal point of every media outlet, every discussion framed around whether the once-dominant team can claw its way back to the top.

You're in the motorhome, scrolling through your laptop, catching up on the latest coverage. A celsius-sorry, RB, but they just taste better- is by your side, half-finished. Then you see it. An interview, Max's face filling the screen, his expression as sharp and serious as ever. The reporter has just finished asking a question, pushing for insight into the difficulties he's been facing.

"It’s not easy," Max admits with his arms crossed. His Red Bull cap is pulled low over his eyes. "The car is… not where we want it to be. It's difficult to drive, unpredictable in certain corners, and sometimes it feels like I'm fighting it more than driving it."

You frown slightly, fingers tightening around the device. You've heard this before. You know all about his frustration, his honesty. It's a good trait that helps you know what to work on, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

Then his tone shifts.

"But," he continues, "we're making progress. My engineer...she's putting everything into this car, finding solutions where it seems like there are none. Every race, every session, we're understanding it better. I have hope for the next races. Still very tough, but I trust her-sorry, them. We'll get there."

Oh, what a slip-up. Your breath catches. Max's face is slightly flushed. He definitely knows what he said.

You do too. Trust. He said it so simply.

You replay the clip, once, twice, and with every repeat, something warm coils in your stomach. The world hears his frustration, but you hear something else: recognition, appreciation. He sees what you do, what you give.

The corners of your lips curl into a smirk as you set the laptop down.

"Well," you say to yourself. "That was certainly something."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

You don't know why you bring it up now, in the middle of the hospitality lounge, of all places. Maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe it's the way Max looked at you after the interview aired-like you were the only thing holding this team together. Like you were holding him together.

So you say it.

"I think I'm leaving next year."

Max, halfway through sipping his water, freezes. His fingers tighten around the bottle, knuckles turning white.

"No."

It’s not a question. Not even a reaction. Just a flat-out refusal.

You exhale, bracing yourself. "Max-"

"No," he repeats, louder this time. He sets the bottle down with a sharp thud, standing up so fast his chair scrapes against the floor. "You’re not leaving."

You stare at him, startled by the sheer force behind his words. "It's not up to you."

His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He looks like he's physically holding himself back, like if he doesn't control it, he might actually go berserk. At any other time you would be aware of the other engineers in the room, pretending not to notice whatever's going on, but he's taking up all of your attention right now. Subtlety is pushed to the back of your mind. "You can't leave," he says, voice rough. "Not after everything."

You swallow and your voice is still not steady. "Max, you know how bad this year has been. The car is-"

"I know how bad it is," he snaps. He steps closer. "I know better than anyone, because I'm the one driving it. But you-" Max exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "You're the only one who makes it better."

Your heart stutters.

He’s staring at you now, eyes burning. You can't read what's behind them. "Every time I think this car is undriveable, you fix it. Every time I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle, you find a way to make it work." Max shakes his head, almost laughing. But it's humorless, frustrated. "And now you're telling me you want to leave? What am I supposed to do with that?"

You take a shaky breath. "Max, I-"

"You can't," he says again, and this time, his voice cracks. "Not you."

Max Verstappen has never been what people call a sentimental man. Right now, he looks as if tears are no longer foreign to him.

You should tell him it's just a thought, that nothing is decided yet. But the way he's looking at you-desperate, almost pleading-makes it impossible to lie.

So you say nothing. You give him that.

And Max? Max steps even closer, until there's barely any space between you. His gaze flickers down-to your lips, to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest-before meeting your eyes again.

"Stay," he murmurs. "Please."

And God help you, you don't know if you can say no.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a/n: going back to my true roots as a narrative writer don't let this flop please xx

When I was in Senior High School I started taking down notes at first but I ended up just taking pictures which weren’t helpful at all tbh. For me doing this kind of thing exercises my mind because somehow I unconconciously review the lesson when I’m catching up with my notes. Also for college this would really help me a lot with subjects that involves the same topics. I need to do everything to pass college cuz Mapua life.

astonmartinii’s masterlist

if you would like to support me or send me a coffee, please go here ko-fi.com/astonmartini !! another way to support me is to shop at my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on etsy: here

max verstappen 

teacher’s pet 

babysitter duty 

play date 

pen pals 

study bug 

college 

teddy bear 

into the arms of another part two part three part four 

worlds biggest fan part two 

behind the camera 

we don’t play about halloween 

passion for fashion

bite the hand

charles leclerc 

big reputation | part two

home ties

all is fair in love and war 

birthday wishes  

the student life part one / part two 

love languages

motormouth 

cat mom 

author 

big girls do(n’t) cry 

tight knit 

friendship bracelets 

you and me got a whole lotta history 

angel baby, devil child 

undercover verstappen

nonsense… or is it? | a very nonsense christmas

oscar piastri 

rookie love

a spoonful of sugar

cherry lip balm 

i am the rockstar, girlfriend 

witchy business 

peas in a pod

southern charm 

kiss it better

nothing good ever happens at the work christmas party

daniel ricciardo 

ric number three 

cooking up a storm 

rockstar 

wedding bells 

big apple lovin’ 

ultimate wing man 

i don’t wanna be funny anymore 

lewis hamilton 

raw chemistry 

doggy day care 

get the bag 

top secret 

signed up for life 

spice up your life

sebastian vettel 

racing royalty 

family ties 

pierre gasly 

we never go out of style 

final(ly) girl 

mick schumacher 

summer breaking 

opposites attract 

lando norris 

lonely hearts club 

suck up 

team bonding 

best friends 4 ever

frost bitten 

dj got us falling in love 

big time rush 

loving on a sunday

head in the clouds

reluctant cupid

bad blood (lando’s version)

ballad of lovebirds and puppy dogs

just add water

george russell 

george russell’s the type of guy 

first impressions matter

esteban ocon 

always the ones you least expect 

carlos sainz 

journalist 

old money 

are you going to be my girl?

toto wolff 

falling for you 

alex albon 

nine lives 

careful what you wish for

yuki tsunoda

guess who?

logan sargeant

pick of the crop

lance stroll

brother’s best friend

mamma mia 

mamma mia  

no more ace to play 

honey, honey

age of no regret 

a wonderful thing 

a very mamma mia christmas

if you need me, let me know, gonna be around

guilty as sin masterlist

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MASTERLIST

FORMULA 1

CHARLES LECLERC

BEST MOMENTS — for their favorite couple’s 5 year anniversary, fans share their favorite moments of them.

GOOD LUCK CHARM AU — dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

LANDO NORRIS

END — yn can't take the distance from lando anymore.

BEGIN AGAIN — after two years apart, a chance encounter allows yn and lando to reconnect and explore what could be a new beginning. OR end part 2.

we listen and we don’t judge — yn and lando do the popular tiktok trend where they confess secrets to each other, judgement free.

OSCAR PIASTRI

COMING SOON!

YUKI TSUNODA

SURPRISE! — it’s yuki’s birthday and his girlfriend would do anything to make him happy.

DANIEL RICCIARDO

DELULU — a fan thinks daniel ricciardo and yn ln are dating. crazy right?

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JACK HUGHES

BLIND, DEAF, MUTE BAKING CHALLENGE — yn and jack do the popular youtube challenge.

QUINN HUGHES

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oneshots

☞like a winner (smut)

☞a deal’s a deal (smut)

☞me and you vs the world

☞don’t fuck it, you muppet

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series

☞she’s a devil in between the sheets (masterlist)

☞the not-so amazing adventures of bug boy (masterlist)

☞the papaya bunch (masterlist)

.

blurbs

☞being in a love triangle with daniel

☞lando being clingy after a night out

☞sugar daddy!lando paying off your tuition

☞vampire!lando turning his humanity on for his girl

☞lando wanting vampire!reader turn him

☞comforting lando after the qatar sprint

☞lando comforting his daughter after her first heartbreak

☞lando helping his teen daughter after she comes home drunk

☞lando’s twins dressing up like their uncles

☞lando’s daughter being a music lover

☞throat-training with lando (smut)

☞lando fucking reader without a condom for the first time (smut)

☞lando fucking max’s sister behind his back (smut)

☞lando and best friend!reader fighting over his girlfriend

.

𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙐𝙇𝘼 𝟭 𝙁𝙄𝘾 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙎.

— note: hello !! here's my first shot at making a fic rec, so please give me feedback on what i can improve. thank you sm !! i hope you enjoyy 😺 😺

• 🩷 = my most favorite reads !!

𝙊𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍 𝙋𝙄𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙍𝙄.

— blurbs and shortwritings

• untitled by @maxlarens

• summer break shenanigans by @clemsnovalak

• the little things by @avawritesthings

• had me at hello by @be4chywritez

• human heater by @pastryfication

• new meetings by @no-144444

— oneshots/imagines

• first time for everything by @katsu28

• decode by @keerysfreckles 🩷

• cold coffee by @tsunodaradio 🩷

SORRY BUT COLD COFFEE HAS GOT TO BE, HAND DOWN ONE OF THE BEST WORKS I HAVE EVER READ. tysmm @tsunodaradio for this absolute masterpiece 🙏

— smau

• imperfect for you by @afterglowsainz

• on the mend by @fastandcarlos

• secretly yours by @paddockletters

• yeah, my wife by @lewisvinga

• grogeous by @piastappies 🩷

𝙇𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙎.

— blurbs and short writings

• little spoon by @mirohlayo

• sorry, chat by @tsunodaradio

— oneshots/imagines

• better than the novels by @drgnsfly

• d.n.f by @norrisradio 🩷

@norrisradio i love your work sm, if yall have time read their stuff it's so good

• redline by ↑

• pick your poison, babe by @tsunodaradio

— smau

• camera girl by @forza-pastry 🩷

• how do you turn this thing off? by @povlnfour

• party time by @norrisainz33

• next in line by @piastrisun

• secret but not private by @italiangirlcoresblog

• dj got us falling in love by @astonmartinii 🩷

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙇𝙀𝘾𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘾.

— blurbs and short writings

• retail therapy by @maxtermind

• tiktok trend by @russellsppttemplates

• in sickness and in cramps by @agentstarkid

— oneshots/imagines

• new recruit by @purinfelix

• dogsitter by @pomegranatesarchive

— smau

• 1-800-help-me-park by @httpsserene

• comeback by @harrysfolklore

• (piano) keys to your heart by @astonmartinii 🩷

𝙈𝘼𝙓 𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝙉.

— blurbs and short writings

• drunk in love by @pucksandpower

• what are you doing? by 🩷@thepitlanepress

• this... is a french braid by @ipushhimback

• put me down by @thepitlanepress

— oneshots/imagines

• christmax by @harrysfolklore

• fluorescent by @scuderiahoney 🩷

• born to run by ↑

• always walk me home by ↑

• pick you up by ↑

— smau

• a night to remember by @oscarp-writes

• cute funny looking child by @pomegranatesarchive

• out of time by @afterglowsainz

• friend of a friend by @norrisainz33 🩷

• ending the war by @princepiastri

𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙊𝙎 𝙎𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙕.

— blurbs and short writings

• carlos sainz being hopelessly in love: a compilation by @harrysfolklore

• clingy by @vivwritesfics

• the dad who stepped up by @jungwnies

• sfw alphabet by ↑

• happy birthday! by @uglyducklingofthe2000s

• prank wars by @n0vazsq

— oneshots/imagines

• come find me by @tsunodaradio 🩷

— smau

• you and me by @sainzzreputaticn

• hand of gold by @pomegranatesarchive

• big news by @norrisainz33

• is it over now? by @afterglowsainz

• secret by @harrysfolklore 🩷

𝙔𝙐𝙆𝙄 𝙏𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝘿𝘼.

— blurbs and short writings

• making dinner with yuki by @yukinss

• calm by @multicohn

• what about me? by ↑

• lover boy by ↑

• nightmares by ↑

• best friends "brother" by ↑

— oneshots/imagines

• i believe in miracles by @tsunodaradio

• love at first flight by ↑ 🩷

• almost by @norrisradio

• the one with the baby by ↑

— smau

• short king by @harrysespresso

• #1 defender by @lewisvinga

• short royalty by @rqsie63

𝙁𝙍𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊.

— blurbs and short writings

• good journalism by @purinfelix

— oneshots/imagines

• holly jolly faking by @julietsf1

• just for the weekend by @purinfelix 🩷

• lost and found by ↑

— smau

• challenge accepted by @hugleclerc

• nepo boyfriend by @harrysfolklore

• spanish or vanish by @papayadays

• i like me better by @taasgirl

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR TYSMMM !! have a great day/night 🩷🙈