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screams-in-writing · 8 months ago

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Still editing ch 3 and going on to outline ch 4 based off how that ch ends. Tentatively going for an early Thursday/late friday post for ch 3, and if Mr. Puzzles behaves, a possible late sun/early Monday post for ch 4.

For now, have a little preview of a later chapter’s scene where the reader finds out that not only are those tv antenna on Mr. Puzzles’ head actually sensitive, but he’s also very much touch-starved.

Note: This is planned to take place ch 7 or ch 9, if all goes according to the outline. It may change, however, and may even change/be split between pov depending on where it falls when editing.

~ Curiously, you reached out to touch the crooked left antenna.

Mr. puzzles stuttered, but continued to sing, a furrow appearing on the screen of his face as he turned his head toward the camera, as if trying to see what was on the other side. Likely he was unable to, with how many tvs were in the immediate area of the unused area of the strip mall (and powered on, despite the lack of people).

You touch the right antenna next, pinching the metal between thumb and forefinger.

This time, Mr. Puzzles actually stopped singing altogether as he promptly spoke in a strained voice.

“Dear viewers, please stand by for a quick maintenance break!”

The screen switched over to a ‘please stand by’ screen with Mr puzzles’ tv head logo on it. But within moments, there was a sudden switch to static before Mr. Puzzles’ technicolor smile and digital eyes appeared on the screen before you, wearing a harried expression.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Mr. Puzzles asked. Then, with a flash of a sly smile. “Or were you trying to let me know that you’re enjoying the show?”

“Let my coworkers come back. They didn’t mean anything by their teasing.” You jabbed a finger at the screen. “You can’t just kidnap people to use like puppets in your little shows.”

“Little?” Mr. Puzzles sounded offended and incredulous. “I’ll have you know I always strive for a 5 star rating in everything I do. Little.” A scoff, as mr puzzles voice and expression switched again to become smug. Amused with what he was about to say, even if his voice was anything but. It was cooler and deeper. More indifferent yet also Curious. “What would you do if I don’t let them leave?”

“This.” You deadpanned, repressing a shiver over the tone shift as you reached over to sharply pinch both of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna.

“Ah!”

Before Mr. Puzzles could say more, you squeezed the metal tight before giving it a sharp yank. You expected a yelp of pain or even a digital stutter, but it was quite the opposite.

Was that…had that been a moan?

“What in the-? Are you…are these actually sensitive?!” You let go of the antenna like they’d burned you as you took a step back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-I thought it was more like the equivalent of being poked or something for you.” You jumped a little when one of Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the arm attached to it, came out from beneath the TV to seize your hand. You thought he was going to bring you into his ‘show’, but that wasn’t what happened.

Mr. Puzzles merely placed your hand back onto one of his antenna.

“Absolutely not.” You attempted to pull your hand away, despite Mr. Puzzles’ continued hold of your wrist. “I’m not touching your antenna if they’re that sensitive.”

“Please.” Mr. Puzzles sounded like he was winded, even as he took on a pleading tone. “I liked it.”

“…I think we need to have a conversation about what exactly it is you want with my home town and why you keep popping up everywhere I show up after my roommates threatened you with a garbage disposal for following me around without me knowing it.” You said, eying Mr. Puzzles arm and then his screen of a face. Then, shaking your head, added. “I didn’t even realize that you could experience anything like a human. I thought you were a robot?”

“Mmm…more like a cyborg?” Mr. Puzzles mumbled. “I still have some of a human body. It’s just different than before.” The hand loosened its tight grip on your wrist but didn’t let go. “Please?”

no acknowledgment of how odd it was for someone you knew less than a month was so interested in following you about after work, where he had been ‘filling in’ for the hours you couldn’t work.

oh.

speaking of coworkers.

“Bring my coworkers back.” You countered as you moved your hand out of mr puzzles slackened grip.

Mr. Puzzles studied you for a moment, but must have seen something in your expression that made him sigh theatrically that you were serious. Then, he reluctantly retracted his arm back within the tv (somehow).

Much faster than you expected, Mr. Puzzles let your coworkers go; you could hear them end up in the empty store next door with yells of surprise followed by confusion, and then at least one of the two burst into loud sobs of terror.

Swifter than even letting your coworkers go, Mr. Puzzles sprang up off the table, and before you knew it, he’d crowded in on you against the wall. Eagerly, he bent down and shoved his screen into your shoulder, before subtly tilting his head to present his antenna to you. No concept of personal space whatsoever, even if Mr puzzles kept his hands to himself by brace it then on his legs. wait.

Oh no.

You’d inadvertently introduced Mr. Puzzles to another way to get attention from someone.

Possibly attention from you in particular.

This being assumed, because Mr puzzles soon impatiently straightened up when you did nothing, and, gentler than before, grasped your hand and led you over to a chair.

You sat down, confused, and ready to point out you ought to go check on your still brokenly sobbing coworker when Mr. Puzzles promptly removed his television head to place on your lap.

So that was a thing.

Mr. Puzzles flashed an expression up at you in what he likely thought was a hopeful look, but it only came off as desperate and deranged. Aaaand his body had just sat down on another chair as it kind of just went…inert, with the hands resting on the top of the knees.

Weird. You distantly wonder why the body horror right before you didn’t draw a big reaction from you. Maybe you were in shock? Maybe you’d seen enough of Mr puzzles antics that day in your home and at the cafe that it didn’t seem any different than those times?

“If you’re going to interrupt my show, then perhaps you could show me why you thought it necessary to tug on my poor antenna?” A huff of breath, then a strained. “But don’t actually tug in them so harshly.” A pause. “Please?”

nope. not when you didn’t know if it was a tactile, platonic thing to mr puzzles to have his antenna touched (unlikely based off what you just saw and heard), or if it somehow brought a sensation of pleasure (more likely, and definitely not something a casual acquaintance asked of another).

yikes.

You don’t think that Mr. Puzzles anticipated that you would do something other than what he wanted. So he was in a shock of his own when you stand up, and totter along while carrying his television head out of the abandoned store with you.

This left mr puzzles to fumble around in the dark as he protested, muffled against where you carried him to your chest, the entire way to another store where you set his television head down, and poked the screen to get his attention.

A gasp of comical offense.

Mr puzzles’ body could be heard running into something with a ‘thud’.

“You can’t do that to my coworkers.” You point to the screen and then to the general area where crying could be heard. “Especially not when you’re already covering for my work while my arm finishes healing up.” You lean in close to make sure mr puzzles was looking at you. “And you shouldn’t kidnap people in general where no one but you knows where they went. My coworkers friends and family were so worried when they were gone for nearly two days.”

sirens sound in the distance.

one of your coworkers called the cops? Or something unrelated?

Mr puzzles might have said something, to try and steer the conversation elsewhere or make up some flimsy excuse, but you were distracted by both the sirens and realization of the heat emanating from his screen. Since the body wasn’t there to grasp your wrist again, you reached out to rest your fingers on Mr. Puzzles’ screen again, ignoring the stutters and glitching that rose in his voice.

Huh.

He really did feel like one of those old tube televisions you’d had when you were younger, complete with the warm screen and fuzzy static sensation.

Mr. Puzzles’ voice eventually slipped into soft pleading. Something about not leaving fingerprints on his face, while you curiously traced along the outside of his screen. It didn’t occur to you in the moment that Mr. Puzzles had feeling in his screen of a face, though not as sensitive of a place as the antenna were. You’d not even noticed the fact that Mr puzzles body had collapsed only feet from where you were, twitching before curling up and hugging itself to then begin to tremble. You only became aware of the body when its long gangly arms wrapped around your waist in a clingy hug that made you jump and accidentally knock mr puzzles head off the flimsy table to the floor.

The arms let go of you as mr puzzles’ body sprawled out on the floor with a groan of discomfort rising from the television set.

“would you care to try that again so I can get a good recording of that?” Mr puzzles sounded huffy, and displeased as he pat around the floor until he found his head. With a grumble, the tv man picked it up to turn on he screen toward you, mr puzzles wearing a slightly feral, unhinged expression.

you swiftly leave the empty store to go check on your coworkers. Mr puzzles did not follow, but you could hear a low laughter ring out from the room behind you along with a raised, falsely cheerful lilt of a farewell that sounded more like a threat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” A little unhinged laughter trickled out. “I look forward to having another…stimulating conversation with you, my dear.”

Later, when you weren’t looking over your shoulder for Mr. Puzzles, you wondered why he let you touch his face, when he seemed so averse to anyone but him touching his television face, especially when you’d punched him in the screen not a month ago. Not only that, you also came out of the odd interaction with the knowledge that Mr. Puzzles could be successfully diverted from his hyper focus of turning your town into the greatest television show ever (or tormenting your coworkers in one of his shows) with just a touch to his inhuman head, and the antenna that stuck out of that ridiculous hat of his.

#smg4 mr puzzles x reader #fic snippet #more a chunk of text really #mr puzzles discovers another way to get attention aka being doted on with pets to his tv head #Again this is on my phone so errors may be there as this is a draft #tw suggestive #I think?

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runariya · 6 months ago

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Drive to Survive (JJK) • Chapter 6 “Addicts Deny”

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: denial, denial, denial, unethical thoughts regarding race practice, lil meow makes an appearance, the FIA is sus, Jungkook is sorry, protective Jungkook because that's a warning for and of itself, MC is jealous, a little bit of fluff, but still she's in denial 🙄, a lot of embarrassment, MC is reckless, physical violence, threats, Jungkook has anger issues, slight PTS, a lil 'babe', MC can't face the truth, foul language, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 7.400

🎵 Treasure - JIKJIN 🎵

a/n: okay, I've clearly lied regarding the writing break. Last night I've stayed awake with mini-me on me sleeping (even though we're both down with a high fever but whatever) and so I've spent the night writing away...so yeeeey! double unedited DtS- AND HR-Update 🎉

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to the sport of Formula 1 are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • series masterlist • 07

It's Monday after the race in São Paulo, and you find yourself back at the headquarters, preparing for the triple header ahead: three races in three consecutive weeks. The jet lag nags at the edges of your consciousness, but you push it aside, just as you try to maintain the facade that keeping Jungkook at a distance is easy.

The wreckage of Jungkook's car has arrived this morning at the headquarters as well, and your immediate task is to retrieve the crash data. Specialised crash sensors in the car have recorded crucial information on impact forces, angles, and speeds, which you'll need to analyse to assess the severity of the crash. This data is essential for the mechanics, who must start working immediately to ensure Jungkook's car is ready in four days for the sprint race weekend in Japan. Toto has already informed you that he wants the data discussed in the debriefing in a few hours, adding to your stress level.

As you sit at your desk, your thoughts drift back to the chaotic events of the race. Jungkook's crash and the subsequent confrontation with Mingyu replay in your mind. After the race, Jungkook underwent a thorough physical check, and thankfully, he emerged unscathed. Still, you worry about the potential impact on his performance, which you'll have a chance to evaluate during tomorrow's simulation session. You focus on extracting and compiling the crash data, immersing yourself in the technical details to drown out the lingering anxiety.

Once you finish the report, you print it, gather the papers, and make your way to the garage where the mechanics are already hard at work. The sleek, partially disassembled race cars glint under the bright lights, the smell of grease heavy in the air, and the walls are adorned with various tools and parts, neatly organised yet exuding a sense of controlled chaos. As you enter, you spot one of the lead mechanics, a man you think is named Yoongi, though everyone here calls him Lil Meow. He's hunched over Jungkook's damaged car, his hands deftly manoeuvring the wrench.

"Yoongi," you call out, approaching him with the crash data. "I have the data from Jungkook's crash. The debriefing starts in a bit, so I thought I’ll give it to you in person."

He looks up, nodding as he wipes his hands on a rag. "Thanks. Let's see what we've got."

As Yoongi begins to look over the data, an idea pops into your head. "Yoongi, hypothetically speaking, could a device be ingrained and hidden in a car that sends electromagnetic shockwaves to disturb electrical connections?"

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Hypothetically, it’s possible. It would be against regulations, though. Such a device could emit controlled electromagnetic pulses that interfere with the car's electronics. It'd be tricky to detect, but if someone knew what to look for, they might catch it."

You hum thoughtfully, processing this information. "Interesting. Thanks, Yoongi."

Leaving the garage, you mull over the idea. If Mingyu plays unfair, then perhaps you could too. The notion of using such a device to either disrupt his car or his body gnaws at your professional integrity, but the stakes are high, and the competitive edge is razor-thin. Returning to your office, you decide to keep the idea in your back pocket, a potential ace up your sleeve. The balance between ethical boundaries and the fierce desire to win is a delicate one, and you can only hope you navigate it wisely in the intense weeks to come.

In the cool, dimly lit conference room at the team headquarters, you stand beside Toto and the engineering team, surrounded by screens displaying telemetry data and race footage. The atmosphere is tense as you begin the debrief with a detailed analysis of Jungkook's crash with Mingyu. On the large central screen, you replay the critical moments leading up to the incident, dissecting every move and decision.

"From what we've reviewed," you start, gesturing towards the screen where the onboard footage plays in slow motion, "it appears Jungkook attempted an overtake on Mingyu into Turn 4. Mingyu defended aggressively, causing contact that sent Jungkook off track."

Toto nods, his expression grave. "We need to understand why Jungkook chose that moment. Was there a miscommunication on strategy? Please replay the radio communication."

You do as said, the communications during the incident echoing through the room, emphasising Jungkook's frustration with Mingyu's defensive manoeuvres. "There were clear frustrations expressed over the radio. Jungkook felt he had the pace and opportunity, but Mingyu closed the door aggressively."

Jungkook, seated among the team, clears his throat. "I believed I could make the move stick. I saw an opportunity and went for it. In hindsight, perhaps I should have waited for a better chance."

Toto interjects, "We need to ensure incidents like this don't repeat. You have to trust the team's strategy and communicate effectively."

You move to the next slide, focusing on the damage assessment. "Fortunately, the crash data indicates that the impact was primarily absorbed by the car body. The chassis integrity remains intact, which is crucial."

The chief engineer chimes in, "The initial assessment from the mechanics confirms that the car will be fully operational for the upcoming race weekend. We'll conduct thorough checks to ensure all systems are optimal."

Toto nods, turning towards Jungkook, he address him directly. "Jungkook, let's discuss your perspective on the incident and your decision-making process during that crucial moment."

Jungkook meets your gaze briefly. "I thought I had the pace to pass Mingyu. I misjudged his defence. I'll be more patient in the future."

You nod towards Toto, appreciating Jungkook’s honesty. "We'll work on refining those split-second decisions."

Transitioning to the broader strategy review, you outline the team's approach to the race. "Our strategy focused on tyre management and capitalising on the race pace. We opted for a two-stop strategy which, despite the incident, allowed us to compete for points until Jungkook's retirement."

Next the chief engineer addresses you, being the engineer responsible for Jungkook's car. "What feedback did Jungkook provide post-incident regarding car handling and performance?"

You respond, “Jungkook reported minor understeer pre-crash, but overall, the car's balance was manageable. Our focus now is ensuring all components are thoroughly checked and aligned."

Shifting focus, Toto then assesses the impact on team morale while looking around. "Given the incident, how are team dynamics holding up?"

Jungkook sighs, "It's frustrating, but we're a resilient team. We'll learn from this and come back stronger."

Turning to the positive, Joongki acknowledges George's stunning victory. "On a brighter note, George's performance was exceptional. Starting from P5 and mastering the changing track conditions to clinch victory showcases our team's capabilities."

The room lightens up with smiles and nods. George beams from his seat. "Thanks, everyone. It was a team effort all the way."

You hastily write down Toto’s next words. "But again back to the crash. To prevent similar incidents, we'll reinforce communication protocols and strategic decision-making. Clear rules of engagement between drivers and rivals will be crucial moving forward."

"Now, regarding the FIA's decision regarding the fight after the race," Toto proceeds, his tone turning almost cheerful. "Thanks to my and Christian Horner's intervention and negotiation with them, Jungkook and Mingyu won't face a ban from the next race. However, there will be a fine to be paid. This is a lesson for both drivers."

There are visible sighs of relief, with shoulders relaxing and expressions softening around the table. Engineers exchange nods of approval, while a few team members even allow themselves small, cautious smiles. Spontaneous clapping breaks out, followed by a few cheers, as the gravity of Toto's influence in this decision is silently acknowledged by the team.

Jungkook glances again to you, as if you see your reaction but averts his eyes to Toto. “Thanks, boss.”

Toto stands, offering final words of encouragement. "Let's channel today's lessons into preparation for the next race. We have a championship to contend for."

As the debrief wraps up, you hastily make your way back to your office, focused and no time for chatter.

The rest of the day passes in a blink of an eye, the quiet hum of the building’s A/C underscoring the solitude of your surroundings. You’re once again the last one working, or so you think. As you step exhausted into the lobby, ready to call an Uber to take you back to your hotel, you come across Namjoon and Jungkook standing by the entrance. Namjoon offers a quick goodbye, leaving you and Jungkook enveloped in an awkward silence.

Jungkook breaks the stillness. "How are you getting home?"

You shrug, trying to keep your tone nonchalant. "I’m taking an Uber, like always."

He frowns, clearly displeased. "It’s too late for you to go alone. I don’t want you walking around at night by yourself."

You roll your eyes, the familiarity of arguing with Jungkook bubbling up. "Jungkook, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you very much."

"No. And before you start, it’s not about patronising you," he insists, his voice dropping to a softer, more earnest tone. "It's about me genuinely fearing for your safety. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you."

You sigh, frustration and a hint of something warmer mingling in your chest. "I'll be fine, Jungkook. It's just a short ride. I’ve done it for weeks at this point.”

He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours, the determination evident. "If something did happen to you, I'd never forgive myself. Your parents would say the same. It’s just not worth it.”

Reluctantly, you concede, the weight of his words settling over you. "Fine," you mutter, "but only because you're being so insistent."

You follow behind Jungkook as he leads the way to his car, the contrast between his towering frame and your smaller stature evident, even though you navigate in heels. Despite the footwear, you feel shielded by his presence, almost invisible to anyone who might approach. His athletic build is unmistakable—broad neck, shoulders, and arms hinting at strength, while his small waist is hidden under an oversized gym shirt. The scent lingering around him is enticing, a mix of sweat and something distinctly masculine, wrapping you in its comforting familiarity.

Reaching his car, Jungkook opens the passenger door, gestures for you to enter first, a small smile gracing his lips, his eyes warm and reassuring. You settle into the passenger seat as he takes his place beside you, the warmth of his presence contrasting with the cool leather of the car seats. The interior smells faintly of his cologne and detergent, bringing you an unexpected sense of comfort. As he starts the engine, you feel a surprising peace wash over you, his presence beside you calming your nerves. You try to swallow down all these feelings, focusing on the passing city lights outside the window.

"Do you have plans tonight?" you ask, breaking the silence, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Jungkook snorts, a bitter laugh escaping him. "With who?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at his profile. "Any of your flirts?"

He glances at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you realised what was behind the flirting.”

“What’s there to realise?” Your tone is more snarky than you intended and you regret opening your mouth at all. But Jungkook seems not to mind it at all.

"For years, flirting has been my self-defence mechanism. Those women who fall for it are usually gold diggers. I know to keep my distance from them…like Trish."

You nod, absorbing his honesty and the subtle repulsion after he said her name, but he isn’t finished.

"The ones who are disgusted by my flirting," he continues, "are the genuine ones. Those are the ones I can befriend. Or more," he adds in a whisper, his eyes flicking to you before quickly returning to the road.

“Oh…” Your breath catches, but you can't find the words to respond. His admission leaves you speechless, and you can feel your heart thudding in your chest. Jungkook takes a deep breath, the tension in the car thickening.

"No matter what happens on track," he says softly, "I’ll never disobey your orders again. I’m sorry. We’re a team, and I need you to know that I understand that now."

Before you can react, he reaches over and takes your hand, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles. The simple touch sends a jolt through you, making you gulp while warmth spreads from your hand to your entire body. You feel a mixture of emotions—comfort, confusion, and a deep-seated denial of what this could mean. You tell yourself it’s just a friendly gesture, nothing more.

You don’t protest, your hand remaining in his as he continues driving. The silence between you shifts, becoming something more intimate and reassuring. You can feel his strength and sincerity through the connection of your hands, and despite your best efforts to deny it, a part of you feels a deep sense of belonging.

As the car glides through the streets, Jungkook’s touch remains steady, anchoring you to this moment. His presence, his warmth, and his words blend into a quiet promise of trust and solidarity. You tell yourself it’s just the circumstances, you being lonely, the late hour, the emotional weekend behind you—but in the back of your little heart, you know it’s more. And for now, you let yourself enjoy the fleeting peace that comes from simply being beside him, his hand in yours.

After Jungkook dropped you off at your hotel last night, you couldn't sleep all night. You kept overthinking the car ride, replaying every moment in your mind. Yet, you told yourself that the sleeplessness was due to your jet lag and not because of Jungkook.

The race simulation room you're in this morning is a high-tech haven within your team's headquarters where you'll spend the next few hours. The walls are adorned with monitors displaying data streams and circuit maps of the Suzuka International Racing Course in Japan. The vibration of machinery and the occasional click of keyboards form the backdrop to your team's focused atmosphere.

Jungkook is seated in the futuristic simulator, which replicates the cockpit of his Formula 1 car. The simulator's three large screens wrap around him, providing a near-360-degree view of the track. He’s fully suited up, helmet on, and hands gripping the steering wheel with the intensity of an actual race. His focus is tangible, his eyes darting from the virtual track to the display on his steering wheel, which shows telemetry data in real-time.

You stand at the control station, a complex array of monitors and control panels before you. Each screen shows a different aspect of the car's performance: speed, gear selection, engine temperature, tyre wear, and countless other parameters that will inform the team's strategy for the upcoming race in Japan. Your headset is on, allowing seamless communication with Jungkook and the rest of the engineering team.

“Okay, Jungkook, we’re ready to start the first run,” you say, your voice steady and clear through the radio. “Let’s focus on getting a clean lap to gather baseline data.”

Jungkook nods, and you watch as he navigates the simulator's controls. The car roars to life on the screen, and he accelerates down the virtual pit lane and onto the track. You keep an eye on the various readouts, watching how the car behaves through the corners and straights of Suzuka's iconic layout.

As Jungkook takes on the first set of S-curves, you notice slight oversteer. “You’re doing great, Jungkook. Let’s try to manage the oversteer through the Esses. Adjust your throttle input a bit earlier.”

“Got it,” he replies, his voice calm yet focused.

Lap after lap, you gather critical data. Tyre temperatures rise and fall, fuel consumption rates adjust, and the balance of the car shifts as Jungkook fine-tunes his driving lines and braking points. Each piece of data feeds into the computer models that will help predict how the car will perform in the actual race.

“Alright, let’s try a few different setups now,” you suggest after a series of consistent laps. “We’ll start with adjusting the front wing angle to see if we can get more downforce.”

You signal to one of the engineers, who quickly inputs the new configuration into the simulator. Jungkook waits patiently, using the brief pause to take a sip of water.

“Okay, new setup is loaded. Let’s see how this feels,” you inform him.

Jungkook nods and restarts his run. Immediately, you notice the car’s behaviour changing through the corners. “How’s the balance now?” you ask.

“Feels better, more responsive at the front. But I’m getting a bit of oversteer in the hairpin,” Jungkook reports.

“Copy that. We’ll try adjusting the rear suspension next,” you respond, making notes on your tablet.

The session continues, each adjustment bringing you closer to the optimal setup. You guide Jungkook through various configurations, each one providing valuable insights. The simulator’s feedback is so realistic that it’s almost like being on the actual track.

“Let’s do a race simulation now,” you announce after a while. “We need to see how the car behaves over a longer stint.”

Jungkook prepares himself, taking a deep breath and settling into a rhythm. The laps roll by, each one providing a wealth of data. Tyre degradation, fuel usage, and lap times are all meticulously logged. You communicate with him constantly, advising on tyre management and fuel-saving techniques.

“Pace is looking good, Jungkook. Keep it steady,” you encourage as he maintains a consistent lap time.

The simulation runs smoothly, and after a predetermined number of laps, you call him back into the virtual pit lane. “Great job, Jungkook. That was a solid stint. We’ve got a lot of good data to work with.”

Jungkook exits the simulator, removing his helmet and wiping the sweat from his brow. A sight you appreciate even in a professional setting. He joins you at the control station, where the team is already analysing the data.

“Let’s review the telemetry,” you say, pulling up the graphs and charts on the central monitor. “We can see here that the tyre wear was pretty consistent, but we need to look into the slight drop in pace during the middle stint.”

Jungkook leans in, his scent hitting you square in the face as he examines the data with you. Flashbacks of yesterday running wild in your mind. “I felt a bit of a drop in grip around lap ten. Could be the tyre temps spiking.”

You nod, trying to snap back to the present while you highlight the corresponding data points. “Yes, the front-left tyre temperature was higher than expected. We might need to tweak the camber settings.”

The debrief continues, with Jungkook providing invaluable feedback on how the car felt at different points of the simulation. You discuss potential adjustments, comparing them with the data gathered to formulate the best strategy for the race weekend.

As the session wraps up, you give Jungkook a pat on the back. “Excellent work today. We’ve got a lot to go on for Japan.”

“Thanks, it felt good. Looking forward to the weekend,” Jungkook replies with a smile.

You watch as he heads out, already thinking about the next steps. The data from today’s session will be critical in fine-tuning the car for the unique demands of the Suzuka circuit. You and the team will spend the next two days poring over every detail, ensuring that Jungkook has the best possible car for the race.

The room gradually empties, the noise of activity dying down. You sit back for a moment, reflecting on the day’s progress and Jungkook’s magnetic pull. Even though he sometimes feels like the sun you can't stop orbiting, there's still work to be done. With Jungkook’s skill and the data you’ve gathered, you would feel confident about the upcoming race weekend, if there wasn’t Mingyu.

As you power down the equipment and gather your notes, you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement. The race in Japan is just around the corner, and with every data point analysed, you’re one step closer to a successful race weekend.

Making your way up the floors to your office, you stop by the kitchenette to fetch a coffee after the sleepless night. The day ahead isn’t over yet, and you need a boost to keep going. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the small room as you pour yourself a cup. Just as you’re about to head to your office with your coffee in hand, Namjoon approaches with a smile.

"Hey, good morning," he greets you warmly.

"Good morning, Namjoon," you reply, returning his smile.

"Got a minute?" he asks, his tone friendly yet a bit hesitant.

"Sure, what’s up?" you respond, curious about what he wants to discuss.

He clears his throat and begins, "I wanted to clarify something about the first day we met. I’m sure you heard what Jungkook said as you were leaving."

Intrigued, you nod and encourage him to continue. "Go on."

"Well," Namjoon says, a bit awkwardly, "I wasn’t looking at your butt. I was actually looking at your posture. Your left shoulder seems to sag a little bit. Do you wear your purse on that side?"

A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you realise you had misinterpreted the situation. You thought he was checking you out. "Yes, you're right," you admit, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I do carry my purse on that side."

Namjoon nods, seemingly relieved. "Would you like to do a little workout for it? I’ve got an hour until I’m scheduled with Jungkook."

You ponder for a moment, but the idea of a break sounds perfect given your level of stress and tiredness. "Sure, why not," you agree.

Soon, you find yourself in your gym clothes, which you keep in your office for moments like this. You follow Namjoon to the team’s gym, a well-equipped space designed for quick yet effective workouts. Namjoon starts guiding you through a series of exercises meant to correct your posture and strengthen your shoulder.

As you move through the exercises, Namjoon breaks the silence. "By the way, you and Jungkook don’t have to worry about me. I’m gay and dating George."

You’re taken aback, not because of his disclosure but because it confirms he noticed your earlier embarrassment. "Oh, um, thank you for sharing that," you stammer, then quickly clarify, "But just to be clear, the relationship between Jungkook and me is purely professional."

Namjoon gives you a knowing look. "I don’t believe you," he says with a chuckle. "Jungkook talks about you all the time. You’re his favourite topic of conversation. He always brings up how you first met when you were teenagers and how you couldn’t stand him."

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. Embarrassment, confusion, and a hint of something else you don’t want to place. "Really?" you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

"Yes, really," Namjoon continues. "He admires you in a way that’s more than professional. And I can see it in the way you look at him, too. It’s mutual."

You deny it again, "Namjoon, it’s not like that." But internally, you’re struggling with the truth of his words. Memories of late-night strategy sessions, the way Jungkook's eyes light up when he talks about racing, and the fluttering in your stomach every time you see him after a race flash through your mind.

Namjoon doesn’t press further. Instead, he focuses on guiding you through the next set of exercises, his demeanour still friendly but more subdued. "Just think about it," he says finally, offering a gentle smile.

You tease, “George, huh?”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to blush. “Yeah, it’s still fresh,” he admits, looking slightly embarrassed. “We’re at the stage of getting to know each other. Please keep it secret for now.”

You nod, a playful smile on your lips. “Your secret’s safe with me. But if you need any advice, you know where not to find me,” you say, masking your own embarrassment.

Namjoon laughs, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll manage. Just don’t spread it around.”

“Of course not,” you reply, still smiling. “But if I see you sneaking off, I’ll know who you’re talking to.”

Namjoon chuckles again, the tension easing.

You finish the workout feeling more relaxed physically but with your mind in turmoil. As you change back into your work clothes and head to your office, you replay Namjoon’s words over and over. You know there’s some truth to what he said, but admitting it, even to yourself, feels like opening a door you’re not ready to walk through.

The day moves on, filled with meetings and data analysis, but Namjoon's words linger in the back of your mind. Every interaction with Jungkook feels charged with a new awareness. You catch yourself watching him a little too closely, analysing every smile, every glance.

Later, as you work late into the evening, Jungkook stops by your office. "Hey, I wanted to go over some of the simulation data with you," he says, his voice as casual as ever.

"Sure, come in," you reply, your heart beating a little faster.

As you discuss the data, you find yourself distracted by the way he leans in, his focus on the screen, the small gestures that seem so familiar yet newly significant. You wonder if he feels it too, this strange tension that Namjoon has made you so aware of.

"I'm heading home in an hour. Will you be done by then? I can drive you home," Jungkook offers.

You look up at him, seeing the hope in his eyes, and can only hum in response.

"Great. I'll meet you at the lobby entrance," Jungkook says, standing up with a gentle smile that you reciprocate without thinking.

When Jungkook finally leaves, you sit back in your chair, staring at the door. You know you need to confront these feelings, but for now, you bury them deep, focusing on your work. The race in Japan is just days away, and you can’t afford distractions.

But as the hour ticks by and the office grows quiet, you can’t help but wonder what might happen if you allowed yourself to acknowledge the truth. Namjoon's words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you consider the possibility that your relationship with Jungkook could be something more than professional.

But for now, you pack up and push the thoughts aside as you head to the elevator, Jungkook already waiting for you with the same smile that leaves you breathless.

Friday evening in Japan is eerily quiet at the paddock. The day's training session had gone well, the team managing to make final adjustments that promised a successful qualifying later that day. However, a strategic error in tyre management—a responsibility that fell squarely on your shoulders—left Jungkook in P3 during the qualifying session. The sense of disappointment still lingers as you step out into the darkness, determined to salvage the weekend by any means necessary.

The Red Bull garage looms ahead, bathed in dim, ambient light that casts long, eerie shadows. Each step you take echoes softly in the stillness of the night, your heartbeat a frantic drum in your chest. Fear and determination war within you, a volatile cocktail that drives you forward. The vast expanse of the garage stretches out before you, empty and silent, offering the perfect opportunity for your second solo mission. You move swiftly, your movements fluid and precise, slipping inside like a ghost. Your eyes dart around, frantic, scanning every nook and cranny for any sign of Mingyu or his team. The air is thick with tension, but as you search, you find the space blissfully clear of any presence. With a quiet sigh of relief, you head straight for Mingyu's gear, the objective of your desire. The silence around you feels both a blessing and a curse, heightening your senses and making every sound seem louder than it is. You remain on high alert, fully aware that discovery could mean serious consequences for both you and the team.

Carefully, you pull out your phone, the cool metal a reassuring weight in your trembling hand. You activate the camera, its bright light slicing through the darkness and casting sharp, eerie shadows that dance over the metallic knobs embedded in the fabric. Each click of the shutter feels like a small victory, highlighting the unusual and illicit modifications better than the pictures you’ve taken weeks before. The knobs glint under the stark light, their presence a silent testament to your growing suspicions. Encouraged by your discovery, you delve deeper into the search, your breath quickening as you rummage through more gear, adrenaline high in your veins. To your dismay and confirmation, you find similar knobs embedded in his right racing boot. The sight sends a chill down your spine, a cold reminder of the dangerous game you're playing. But the thrill of uncovering the truth fuels your resolve, and you focus intently on documenting the evidence, pushing fear to the back of your mind.

Just as you're about to snap another picture of the racing boot, a strong hand clamps down on your shoulder, wrenching you around with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you come face-to-face with Mingyu. His eyes blaze with anger and suspicion, his imposing frame casting a shadow over you and filling the garage with an oppressive presence. His tall and buff build swallows you whole and blocks out the dim light, making you feel small and vulnerable.

"What’s a little bird like you doing here?" he snarls, his voice a dangerous, low rumble that sends a fresh wave of fear coursing through you. The menace in his tone is unmistakable, and you can feel your body tense up, every instinct screaming at you to run.

You open your mouth to respond, but no sound comes out. Your vocal cords feel paralysed by the sheer panic rising within you. As Mingyu steps closer, his towering frame becomes even more intimidating, forcing you to instinctively back away. Your hands tremble uncontrollably, making it hard to keep your phone steady, and a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead, trickling down your temples. "I... I was just..." you stammer, but the words catch in your throat, refusing to form coherent sentences. The weight of the situation presses down on you, making it hard to think or react rationally.

Mingyu's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing and unforgiving. He steps even closer, closing the gap between you with a menacing determination. You keep backing up, your steps frantic and unsteady, until you find yourself at the very edge of the garage. The cool night air brushes against your back, offering a stark contrast to the oppressive heat radiating from Mingyu's anger. "Tell me, what exactly are you doing here?" he demands, his voice a dangerous growl. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and grabs your neck, the pressure firm and unyielding. You gasp for breath, your hands instinctively flying up to grasp his wrist in a futile attempt to loosen his grip. The fear coursing through your body now is overwhelming, drowning out any semblance of bravery you thought you had.

Regret floods your mind like a tidal wave, threatening to drown you in its intensity. You curse yourself for embarking on this dangerous mission alone, for underestimating the risks and overestimating your ability to handle them. Thoughts of Jungkook, your team, and the potential consequences of your actions swirl in a chaotic storm within your head. What if you don't get out of this situation unharmed? The fear is almost paralysing, making it hard to focus on anything but the desperate hope that somehow, someone will come to your rescue. The reality of your vulnerability hits you hard, and you can't help but feel a deep sense of despair and helplessness.

Mingyu's grip tightens, the pressure on your neck intensifying as you see the rage boiling over in his eyes. "Answer me!" he growls, his voice a harsh, guttural sound that shakes you to your core. He shakes you slightly, his grip unrelenting. The world starts to blur at the edges, your vision narrowing as lightheadedness takes over. You feel your strength ebbing away when, suddenly, a voice cuts through the oppressive tension.

"Hey! What’s going on here?" Taehyung's voice slices through the air, sharp and authoritative. Mingyu's head snaps in Taehyung's direction, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. Relief floods through you, a lifeline amidst your mounting fear. Taehyung strides toward you with purpose, his eyes immediately locking onto Mingyu's hand around your neck, the protective fire in his gaze unmistakable.

Mingyu releases you abruptly, and you stumble back, gasping for air as you clutch your sore neck. "She was trespassing," Mingyu snaps, pointing a condemning finger at you. "Spying. That’s against regulations."

Taehyung steps between you and Mingyu, his stance solid and unyielding. "All I saw was a man assaulting a woman. You might want to reconsider your actions," he says, his tone icy and eyes never wavering from Mingyu's face. The tension crackles like electricity, a standoff between the two men that hangs in the air.

Mingyu's eyes flash with unrestrained anger, but he takes a reluctant step back. "This isn't over," he warns, jabbing a finger in your direction one last time before turning on his heel and vanishing into the shadows of the night.

Taehyung turns to you, his face softening with concern. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice now gentle, a stark contrast to the sharpness it held moments before.

You nod slowly, still rubbing your neck where Mingyu's fingers had left their mark. "Yeah, I think so. Thanks to you," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

"We need to report this to the FIA," Taehyung insists firmly. "Mingyu physically assaulted you. This can't go unaddressed."

"I'm not sure," you reply hesitantly, the thought of further exposure daunting. But Taehyung’s unwavering resolve cuts through your doubt.

"It's the best course of action," he says, his tone brooking no argument. "And we won't say a word about what you were doing before Mingyu showed up."

You sigh, a mixture of resignation and acceptance washing over you. Knowing he's right, you agree. "Okay. We'll report it. But what were you doing here, anyway?"

A small, wry smile tugs at Taehyung's lips. "I had the same idea as you. But you beat me to it," he admits, a hint of admiration in his voice.

As you and Taehyung leave the paddock, the night air cool against your flushed skin, you glance at him, a new worry gnawing at you. "Promise me you won't tell Jungkook about this," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung frowns and glances at your neck. "I’m afraid I won’t have to, it’s quite unmistakable."

The two of you walk side by side, the night’s events casting a long shadow. Mingyu's warning echoes in your ears, a constant reminder of the stakes involved.

Back at the hotel, you part ways with Taehyung, thanking him again for his help. Alone in your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the pictures on your phone. The evidence you’ve gathered is significant, but it has come at a cost. You hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and that you'll find a way to move forward without further jeopardising yourself or the team.

Sleep doesn't come easily that night. The memory of Mingyu's hands around your neck haunts you, and the weight of your decisions presses heavily on your mind. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, you feel a flicker of determination. This fight isn't over, and you’re more committed than ever to seeing it through.

“___, could you please follow me?” Toto steps in front of you, blocking your view of a raging Jungkook, who is stomping his way toward you through the paddock on this Saturday morning before the sprint qualifying begins.

You glance up at Toto, his face passive and pale, and nod. “Yes, boss.”

Following him to the back room of the garage, you notice two representatives from the FIA and Taehyung sitting by the table, clearly waiting for Toto and you.

“What’s going…” Jungkook had clearly followed you but his presence and voice are cut off as Toto, unimpressed, closes the door in his face.

“Please take a seat,” one of the representatives says, thick with an Italian accent. Your nerves flare up, but Taehyung’s reassuring smile eases them a little.

“We heard that a driver had physically harassed and injured you. Is that true?” the same representative continues emotionless.

You glance again at Taehyung, who nods, his warm smile still in place, giving you the reassurance you need. “Yes.”

“Could you name the driver who harassed you and what he did?” the other representative asks then.

Last night flashes in your mind, the fear returning momentarily as you fiddle with your thumbs. “It was Park Mingyu. He choked me.”

Both representatives note your answer down, nodding before standing up.

“Thank you very much for your statement. If it’s not a bother, could we take a picture of your neck?”

You reach up, feeling the slight swelling on your neck. The bruises, shimmering in red, green, and blue at some spots, are a reminder of the aggression you faced. Each tender spot under your fingers feels as if Mingyu's grip is still there, the phantom pressure of his hand lingering around your throat. A shiver runs down your spine, and you gulp, realising the importance of this evidence. It must be documented meticulously to ensure there’s no doubt about what happened. The thought of the photographs being taken, capturing your vulnerability and the violence inflicted upon you, makes you uneasy, but you know it's necessary. “Sure,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

After the pictures are taken, the representatives thank you and exit the room. Almost immediately, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to peek into the room, his anxious eyes scanning for you. You realise he must have been waiting outside the entire time. The door closes softly behind them, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. Now, you're alone with Taehyung and Toto. The room feels smaller, more intimate, with just the three of you. Taehyung stands quietly beside you, his presence a comforting reassurance, while Toto's gaze remains steady and composed, though you can sense the undercurrent of worry in his eyes. The gravity of the situation hangs in the air, making the room feel even more charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Toto says, his tone distant as he speaks. “And I appreciate your assistance.” He adds, turning briefly to acknowledge Taehyung. “It’s unusual for a rival team to intervene like this.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Taehyung waves his hand around, still smiling at you as if knowing you need this more than ever.

“Are you good to work?” Toto asks you.

“Yes, boss,” you reply, telling the truth.

"Good," Toto murmurs, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "Make sure to stick close to the team from now on, alright?"

"Yes, boss. I'll keep close," you reply, though Toto's shift in demeanour leaves you feeling unsettled.

"Good, good," Toto repeats, his voice trailing off slightly as he heads out the door. There's a visible tension in his movements, contrasting his usual composed self.

Jungkook strides purposefully into the room just as Toto makes his exit, his gaze flicking from you to your neck and then to Taehyung with a mixture of concern and anger etched on his features. His steps are quick, his posture tense as he points an accusatory finger at Taehyung. "What did you do to her?!" The words are sharp, laden with worry and protectiveness.

Taehyung responds with a laugh, raising his hands in a placating gesture while you move to stand in front of him, hoping to diffuse Jungkook's escalating emotions. "I saved Miss Dangerous here," Taehyung explains calmly, his tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. "Mingyu's the one who hurt her."

Jungkook's brow furrows as he processes the information, the tension in the room palpable as both you and Taehyung attempt to calm him down. You speak softly, explaining what happened and reassuring him that you're alright, urging him not to confront Mingyu in anger.

Later, as the sprint qualifying session is about to start, news spread through the paddock like wildfire. Teams and media alike learn of Mingyu's ban from the weekend's events, the result of his repeated violations of regulations, specifically for his assault on you. The atmosphere at the Suzuka Course is a mix of relief and lingering tension, with whispers of the incident circulating among team personnel and journalists alike, punctuated by murmurs of support and solidarity from your colleagues.

Race day arrives on Sunday, and the paddock is clamouring with media for statements about Mingyu's ban and the incident involving you. Toto steps in, shielding you from the press frenzy, urging you to focus on the impending race while he handles the public relations.

Watching his interview on the pit wall through a nearby screen, you feel grateful for a boss like him. He speaks confidently to the reporter, highlighting your skills as one of the most talented race engineers across all teams. Toto emphasises the importance of protecting women in a sport where they are still a rarity, citing the FIA's response as evidence of their commitment to a safe work environment.

Just as you start to settle into the seat, Jungkook startles you by placing his large hands on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezes your shoulders lightly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You smile at him, your voice quiet.

“You ready for the race?” Jungkook shifts to beside you, leaning against the pit wall with crossed arms. He’s already in his black gear, fitting his body perfectly.

With a playful grin, you counter “It’s you who needs to be ready.”

“We’re are team. Aren’t we, babe?”

You blush at his playful persona but laugh along, realising how much you've missed his relaxed and humorous side. As the anticipation builds, you feel a sense of optimism washing over you, hoping that everything is finally starting to align positively.

The race unfolds spectacularly, the anticipation building with each lap as Jungkook skilfully navigates the track. As the final lap approaches, Jungkook's dominance is undeniable. You with the pit crew, glued to their monitors, erupt in unison cheers as Jungkook crosses the finish line in first place. The shouts reverberate through the paddock, faces full of elation and pride for the team's achievement.

With George closely following in second place, the team's success is complete. The pit lane becomes a stage of jubilation as Jungkook's car rolls to a stop, surrounded by cheering mechanics and team members. They hoist him and George onto their shoulders, their exuberance contagious as they celebrate their victory. The air is filled with high-fives, hugs, and congratulatory shouts.

Standing at the back of the crowd, you fix your gaze on Jungkook amidst the post-race celebrations. His figure stands out, exuding triumph and relief, yet there's a subtle hint of something unresolved in his expression. You observe him scanning the crowd, his eyes searching earnestly as if seeking something beyond the victory itself. Your heart races with conflicting emotions, wanting desperately to catch his attention without uttering a word.

Finally, his gaze meets yours, a brief moment that feels like an eternity. In that instance, his smile lights up like the sun itself, mirroring the warmth that spreads across your own face. The connection is fleeting yet profound, a shared acknowledgment that transcends words.

Suddenly, the realisation hits you like a thunderclap. Your expression falls rapidly, hands pausing mid-clap, the color draining from your face.

Jungkook notices the shift in your demeanour, his brow furrowing in concern, but before he can react, you pivot abruptly, heart pounding as you retreat from the scene as fast as you can.

Your only destination being away from him.

01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • 05 • series masterlist • 07

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

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