Synopsis: Max watches the woman he loves leave Earth on Artemis II, holding his breath until her voice crackles down from orbit — and when she finally returns, running straight into his arms, he realises home was never a place, just her coming back to him.
Requested: “Hii! Not sure if you are taking requests but can you do a fanfic of a Max Verstappen x reader!astronaut? l've recently been fascinated with Artemis Il and it would be great if reader is part of the crew!” - I hope you like it!
The kind that settled over a garage after a bad quali.
The kind that lived in the corners of hotel rooms at 3AM.
The kind that followed him home after a race he should’ve won.
But none of it compared to this silence — the one that filled his apartment the night before your launch.
You were in the kitchen, barefoot, hair tied up, wearing one of his old Red Bull hoodies like it was armour. Your mission patch was sewn onto the sleeve. He’d watched you stitch it on yourself, tongue between your teeth, refusing help even though he’d offered three times.
You were leaving Earth in the morning.
He still hadn’t figured out how to breathe.
“Max,” you said softly, leaning against the counter, “you’re staring.”
“I’m allowed,” he muttered, crossing the room to you. “You’re my girlfriend. And you’re going to space. I think staring is the bare minimum.”
You laughed — that warm, bright sound he’d memorised long before he ever admitted he was in love with you. He stepped behind you, arms sliding around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.
“You packed everything?” he asked.
“Mm‑hmm.”
“Even the photo?”
You turned your head, smiling. “The one of us in Monaco? Yeah. It’s in my personal kit.”
He exhaled, relieved. That photo — you on his shoulders, sunglasses crooked, both of you sunburnt and laughing — was the closest thing he had to proof that the world could be soft.
“You know,” you murmured, “you’re taking this harder than my parents.”
“Your parents aren’t dating someone who’s about to leave the planet.”
You nudged him with your elbow. “I’m coming back.”
“I know,” he said. And he did. Rationally. Logically. Statistically.
But love had never been rational for him.
---
LAUNCH DAY
Max wasn’t prepared for how small you looked in the suit.
You’d always been larger than life to him — brilliant, stubborn, terrifyingly capable. But standing there in the white room, helmet tucked under your arm, NASA crew bustling around you, you looked… human. Breakable.
He swallowed hard.
You stepped toward him, boots heavy on the floor. “Hey.”
He tried to smile. It came out crooked. “Hey.”
“You’re not going to cry, are you?”
“No,” he said immediately. Too immediately.
You raised a brow.
“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted.
You reached up, gloved hand brushing his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Max.”
“I know. I just—” His voice cracked. He hated that. “I just love you.”
Your eyes softened behind the visor. “I love you too.”
He kissed your helmet — the only place he could reach — and stepped back as the techs guided you away. You looked over your shoulder three times.
He counted every one.
---
T‑0
Max watched the launch from the VIP area, but it felt like he was the only person on Earth.
The countdown thundered through the speakers.
1.
2.
3.
His hands shook.
10.
9.
8.
He whispered your name like a prayer.
7.
6.
5.
He stopped breathing.
4.
3.
2.
1.
The rocket ignited, a sun blooming on the horizon. The ground trembled. The air split open. And then you were rising — leaving him, leaving everything, climbing into the sky like you were born for it.
He didn’t cheer. He didn’t clap.
He just watched, jaw tight, heart somewhere in his throat.
When the rocket disappeared into the clouds, he finally exhaled.
“She’s okay,” someone said behind him.
He nodded. “Yeah. She is.”
But he wouldn’t believe it until he heard your voice.
---
ORBIT
You called him from space.
Well — technically, NASA patched you through. But the moment your face appeared on the screen, floating slightly, hair drifting around your head like a halo, Max forgot how to speak.
“Hi,” you said, grinning.
He blinked. “You’re— you’re floating.”
“Yeah,” you laughed. “Zero‑G tends to do that.”
“You look beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes. “Max, I’m literally in a pressure suit.”
“And you still look beautiful.”
Your smile softened. “How are you holding up?”
“Terribly,” he said honestly. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
You showed him the Earth through the window — a glowing curve of blue and white. “You see that? That’s home.”
He swallowed. “Come back to it.”
“I will.”
“You promise?”
“I swear on the Moon.”
He laughed — really laughed — for the first time since you left.
---
REUNION
The moment you spotted him, you broke into a run.
He met you halfway, arms wrapping around you so tightly the medics gave up trying to intervene. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in like oxygen.
“You’re here,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re actually here.”
“I told you I’d come back.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands cupping your face. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
You smirked. “Go to space?”
“Yes.”
“Max, I’m literally an astronaut.”
He groaned. “I know. I know. I’m proud of you. I’m just—” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m so in love with you it’s stupid.”
You kissed him — messy, relieved, grounding.
“I brought you something,” you murmured against his lips.
“What?”
You reached into your suit pocket and pulled out a small, sealed bag. Inside was a tiny patch of fabric.
Your mission patch.
The one you’d worn in orbit.
“For you,” you said. “So you have a piece of space too.”
He stared at it, then at you, then back at it.
“Marry me,” he blurted.
You froze. “What?”
“Marry me,” he repeated, breathless. “Not now. Not tomorrow. But someday. When you’re ready. When I’m ready. Just— someday.”
Listen I love Cristina Koch as much as the next person, maybe even more, but I find it so fucking weird and parasocial that people are writing fanfiction about her or making weird/suggestive fanart of her, like I feel like people forget that while she is awesome and totally someone to look up to, she is also a real person and is LITERALLY MARRIED.
I'm not going to lie. I watched Project Hail Mary and loved it. I want to watch it again and read the book. It actually lived up to the hype for me, and it was way more funny than I thought it would be.
Here's the thing, though. I can't help but wonder how much of the movie's success with ratings and turnouts have to do with the successful completion of the Artemis 2 mission. Space exploration got very hyped up thanks to this, but if anything went wrong on the mission, I doubt people would want to be reminded of space travel then. Thankfully, the astronauts returned to Earth safely, but man, what a gamble for both science and PHM here.
