250521 - empirestatebldg on twitter
9 and 10
ooh yeah I do have both my earlobes pierced and a small gold stud on the left of my nose. As for more piercings I do want to get a helix on my right and both my upper lobes done!
send me a question!
so happy to hear that it was to you liking!!! I'm working on the next part, it's gonna clear some of the things for poor oc (and the readers) . Thank you so much for reading and leaving such kind words!!!
Pairing: Mercenary!Jungkook x ?? Female!Reader
Summary: When past comes knocking on your door wearing the face of unknown dangers, you can either refuse acknowledging it and be a sitting duck or find out what it was that turned your world upside down all those years ago—that has come back yet again to hunt you—with a stranger promising to keep you safe, by your side. One thing is sure: secrets will unfold. And it would not be anything you could've imagined.
Word Count: 7.3k
Genre: Fantasy au; adventure; action. Fluff; angst; future smut(??)
Rating: 18+ (violence and mature themes)
Warnings: Fighting, some blood, minor character death, dead parent mentioned
Published: 11th March 2025
Note: between my previous blog getting shadowbanned and my writers block, it took an awfully long time for it but finally the next chapter is here!! I swear I'll try to be more consistent with the updates now. Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and the story so far!!!
Glossary and Map: here
Esati Masterlist
You clung to your father's arm, as he moved around your little home, trying and failing to put his things in his satchel. He needed to leave soon, it bothered him if something was not done in accordance with his timetable, but there was a small hindrance. A hindrance who was currently sulking.
"Can't I come with you too, Pa? Please?"
Big brown eyes blinked up at Alastair, trying to look more innocent than they were. "It is not a place for a child, love. I'm meeting with an old friend, and most of the time we will be talking about work talk; you will get bored." He pried your fingers clutching around his arm, and started on actually getting some work done.
"I won't! I want to see the market," you huffed, round cheeks puffed out and coloured a soft pink hue, "Jioo said the people in town have decorated it for the spring feast. It's reeeally pretty!" You stretched the word.
Your father slung the satchel across his body. "If the only thing you want to do is roam around the town, then I am afraid that I won't have time for that. Oh, and before you say anything about going on your own, then that is an even firmer no."
You scrunched your brows, lips in a downturn. But he just laughed, "I know, I know, my little bird is all grown up, but you will always be a little girl to me." Pinched your cheeks, "I can't bear the thought of you alone out there just yet, understand the worries of my heart?"
Now he was the one making that innocent pouting face. You started pouting harder.
Your father sighed, "I'll take you there the day after. You can invite Jioo too if you'd like? "
You hadn't even tried to fight the smile that took over your face. "Promise?"
"Promise," he came over and pulled you in an embrace, planting a peck at the top of your head, "I'll be back soon," and with that he was out the door.
You followed him out, shutting the door behind yourself, already on your way to go gather some herbs from your small garden while your father was away.
Before you could even fully turn around, a massive weight was thrown on you.
"Oof," you stumbled but managed to stay on your feet. "Buck! Don't do that! You're not a tiny baby anymore," you laughed.
The husky only looked at you with innocent eyes as if he didn't understand why he couldn't jump at you anymore. He wasn't even two years old and yet so huge.
"You big baby. Take care of Pa, alright?" You ruffled his furs as he took off running in circles.
Your father called for Buck and began walking. "Don't stay out for long! And the foo-"
"'Food is on the kitchen table, make sure to eat it.' Yeah, yeah, I already know. Now go."
"Take care and don't stay hanging on the window waiting for me, you will catch a cold." Your father called out one last time, still looking at you. He wondered when his daughter grew up so much, as you grabbed your basket and hummed on your way towards the garden.
———————————————————— A cool breeze ruffled your hair, and you slumped even further against your folded arms, which you were currently leaning on, staring out the open window.
It was getting late. Usually when your father goes to town, he comes back by now; one look at the sun, and you knew it was past the fourth hour. There were no bell towers this high and far into the mountains, so you couldn't hear the bells signalling each hour, but you had gotten good at guessing over the years. Though your father did own one of those chain watches, he always carried it with him.
You were getting worried, even after being well aware that if he went to see someone regarding business, it could take time; it still made your mind fill up with unease.
Maybe he's just catching up with his friend and forgot about the time. That seemed like a possible reason for his delay.
But at this point it seemed like you were only reassuring yourself.
You lived at the edge of your village; not to mention, because of how late it was, most of the people were either inside their homes resting after a day's work or busy with supper and preparing for the evening gatherings. No one was near you.
And so no one heard the pained groan followed by the frantic thuds on your front door.
You ran to the door, letting out a gasp of horror the moment you opened it. The person who stood there was almost unrecognisable, covered in several gashes and crimson painting his face. Blood.
"Pa! No, no. Oh god! What happened to you?"
You were crying. Your mind couldn't register yet, but tears blurred your vision and slipped past your chin down to the floor in rivulets. Your father stumbled inside the house and slipped to the floor just inches away from the door frame.
He opened his mouth, trying to say something but ended up coughing instead and spitting more blood on the floor. He was bleeding from the chest too, or maybe it is his stomach? You didn't know. Couldn't make sense of the scene in front of you. Red. It was too much red.
"I-I will get a rag- sit- i-" You didn't know what was coming out of your mouth. You didn't know what you were doing. But you had to do something. Even as those words left your mouth, you didn't move and just stared at him in horror and confusion, arms raised and reaching for him. You felt like the world was collapsing, and you could not find your footing on the broken floor.
"No," he gruffed, grabbing at your calf, trying to stop you. "They are coming for you," he huffed out.
"Pa-" You tried to reach him.
He heaved a breath and cut you off. "Listen, listen carefully," he coughed again. "Get out of here, don't look back. Go...go west. Down the mount- mountain. Run,"
"What are you saying?" You whispered shakily, coming back to reality and finding your voice again. You were distraught and scared as you watched more life force spill out of his body and pool around him. "You are hurt. Have to stop the bleeding—"
"Focus on what I'm saying," his booming voice stopped your nervous rambles in their tracks. But it seemed he used all his remaining energy in that one sentence and, as a result, had to lean on the still-open door, struggling to draw in another breath.
"Please go; they would not be very far, please."
"You're telling me to leave you like this? I can't—Pa, 'they'? Who's coming? Who did this?" Your nerves were frantic, eyes shaky as you looked out the door trying to locate any threat. Any sign of the person responsible for this.
But your father didn't respond. Heart dropping to your feet, you hurriedly sat in front of him, taking his hand in one and tilting his face with the other one.
You were about to call out to him when his hand tightened, and he opened his eyes and looked you directly in the eye, "Take this." Gripped tightly in his hand was his satchel, which he still managed to keep safe in all the commotion.
Tears were streaming down your face, you realised how serious he looked. How tired his eyes were. You didn't want to leave him, but his face said it all; you didn't have any other choice.
"My life was for you anyway; the day I had met you, I was born again as" cough, "as your father. Go. I'll be fine."
He was lying.
"I ca- can not," you hiccuped, "pa."
His grip loosened on your hand, and he managed to pull away. "Take this. You are my brave child, you will make it out of here, alright?"
It was his chain watch. He pried your fingers open and pressed it into your skin. A beautiful silver thing, patterns of swords and wheat swirling around the front. You realised how small it was, as it sat in the middle of your palm.
You took the satchel, set it down on your lap, and grabbed both his hands tightly; he gave you the smallest of smiles, and you let out a sob.
But his hands were urging you up, and even if you wanted to just sit there and hug him tight, you got up, slinging the leather strap around your shoulder. You can't convince him, but you were going to go find help.
You looked back at him, standing at the doorframe, you tried one last time to convince him silently to let you stay when his eyes snapped up towards the back window. They held a look of panic in them as he hissed in pain.
"Go, hurry. You don't have time—"
Just then you heard a loud howl, and the window burst open as something big and black entered your home through the shattered window.
You screamed, backing away as your eyes connected with deep red irises. Not of a human's, but a wolf's. An insanely large wolf, who was staring right at you.
Frozen in shock, you didn't even realise that you were shakily taking steps away from it, but then you remembered your father. Your gaze shot in his direction as he pulled himself to his feet.
"Look here, you mutt!" Your father, who had looked on the verge of collapsing just a second ago, now stood straight and walked in front of the horrifying creature, "It's me that you want, don't you?" He spat. Dragging every shred of power he had left in his body.
You couldn't be sure—you mind couldn't comprehend anything that was happening—but his hands started glowing orange; your eyes were glued to his hands as you tried and failed to convince yourself that this was all a nightmare.
"Y/n...my little bird, run and don't look back. I'm sorry that I have to leave you alone, but didn't you say you were all grown up now?" You could hear the faint smile in his voice even if he didn't turn around; he just kept his eyes on the wolf, who now began to circle around him with its teeth out on display. "You will be alright. I know." He finished.
The black creature got ready to pounce. Alastair raised his hands—now burning a blinding orange. "Please!"
His pained cry reached you just as you turned around, but you kept running. Nothing crossed your mind at that moment but your father and his words—begging you to go. So you did. Disappearing among the trees, away from your village, your father. Your home.
You hadn't had a home in a long time, not since you lost your father. But you had managed to create some semblance of that word, a space for yourself. And in this exact moment you wanted nothing more than to run back to its comfort and forget all about what happened.
But you were aware it was not possible.
"Keep your head down," The guy—Jungkook—instructed you, his steps twice the size of your own.
After ensuring that there was no one else in the tavern looking for either of you, you made your exit through the back door. Slipping into the foot traffic undetected.
As the sun rose, more and more people began filling up the streets; you took advantage of that and mingled with the growing crowd moving as a single body. You caught a glimpse of a knight from the First Order and promptly redirected your steps. They were more trouble than help.
"This way," Jungkook steered to the left, ducking under a man carrying potato sacks, and entered the alley leading to streets away from the tavern. You both kept moving until you reached what looked like a desolate place with only a rarely used shed in dilapidated condition.
He stopped there, knocking on the wood; in the meantime, you assessed your surroundings. You didn't come in this part of the town, and from the looks of it, other people didn't either. This place looked like it had been abandoned for a while—which made you wonder what you were doing here? Most importantly, why were you following him still.
While you were distracted, someone stepped out of the shed. "—inside," came a reply. Jungkook must have asked a question while you were busy inspecting the forest line in the distance, small critters coming out to inspect the intruders. He walked inside, leaving you alone with the other person.
It was then that you turned to look at the other person.
"Kane?" Your eyes widened as your gaze locked onto the other person, the same man who helped you unload your stuff just yesterday, who offered to walk you out like he always does, and now stood there expressionless, lips in a thin line. "What...? " But at that exact moment Jungkook stepped out, and he was not alone. Trailing behind him was a black horse, probably the most beautiful one you've ever seen.
He motioned with his head, telling you to get moving, but the familiar face in front of you had many more questions arising in your head than you already had bouncing around in the crevices of your mind.
He noticed you gawking at Kane too and sighed, "I'll explain later." Your gaze snapped to him.
You took a step back, tried to gulp back the rising bile of unease, and shook your head. "How do you know me?" A question you hadn't asked yet. How did he find you? How did he know it was you? To him, who even were you?
There was only more confusion and questions joining the pile with the ones that were circulating in your head.
An epiphany struck you. Without paying you any mind, Kane had pulled out a red apple from somewhere and was feeding it to the horse. It made you think of the one that currently must be still sitting somewhere in your rented room from last night—just, in a different shade. You had seen that shade before.
"You've been following me?" An incredulous tone took over your voice. Your throat shrank, confining your inhales and reducing the air getting in.
He tried to keep a calm composure, running a hand through his hair. His expression pinched with impatience—tired with your constant interrogation, he has stayed here too long for his liking and you were only stalling them.
"You don't get the danger you are in, do you—"
"Stay away from me." Your eyes turned watery but still filled with determination. Your hands shook in disbelief, seeing Kane here, you started to wonder if Mayah and Kenzie had lied to you as well. To some extent? Was the care they showed you had been fake? What were they using you for? What did you even have that someone would want? Must be something, right? If the incidents in the past few hours and the men standing before you were anything to go by?
The little world you had built for yourself was crumbling. But your world had fallen apart once before, you filled the cracks once, you could do it again.
"If you think that that man was the only one after you, then you'd be a fool to believe that." He evenly stated, moving a couple of steps forward, he gave his wrist a flick—a signal for Kane as he began walking away without a second glance in your direction.
Your gaze wavered, jumping between the two people. One a piece of the picture you thought you knew, and another is the messy blank canvas of the unknown. You fisted your skirts, nails digging deep in the dark fabric, and your feet felt light, ready to take off.
Jungkook stood there in silence before he let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, I was keeping an eye on you," he said. Like it was not odd—terrifying for the person—to tell someone he was stalking that he was stalking them. "But I had a reason to do it that you don't need to know right at this very moment. So please,"
You didn't move, but your eyes flicked for a fraction of a second in the direction where Kane left; he caught that. "He's an informant. No, the old man and his daughter didn't know, if that makes you feel better." It did. "Now, we don't have time to spare. Please, I'm trying to keep you safe." He pleaded, pushing a loose strand of hair back, his eyes wide and eyebrows pushed down, appearing to look appealing and trustworthy.
You were hesitant; he did save your life.
Your eyes glazed over, pondering his words, and you kept your eyes trained on him while contemplating your next step. It was then that you flicked your eyes sideways, just behind him, and stared. Your eyes grew wider.
"Who's there?"
Not wasting a moment Jungkook swirled, sword drawn out, shoulders hunched and legs set apart. He scanned the area—left to right and then back again—but caught no movement. He couldn't see anyone, and after a couple of moments, he turned around. "Where did you—oh, this cannot be real."
He sputtered in disbelief as he took in your absence from the place you were previously standing at. You were running and had covered a significant distance in just a few seconds. He could not believe he fell for the oldest trick in the book. You did not even glance back, just sprinted as far away as possible, and missed the utter look of bewilderment—mixed with just enough amusement—on his face.
"Dang it, she is fast on her feet," he muttered, stepping back, eyes locked on you. It seemed you were moving towards the deeper forests. He turned, patting the horse, "Ready for a game of chasing chickens, Orla? Just like old times?" Orla snorted her agreement, and Jungkook quickly hopped behind her, setting himself on the saddle. With a hiya! and a tug on her reins, she broke out in a sprint.
By now you had crossed the forest line, hurrying deep and far, and disappeared from his sight entirely.
————————————————————
Yes, he had saved your life. But a single encounter—one under this skeptical situation—cannot possibly make you just trust a stranger. Especially now, when you knew that you were being hunted, the 'who' and 'why' still remaining a mystery yet to be unveiled. Do you really want to see beyond the veil, though? A mocking voice, very much like yours, rang from the back of your head. The answer was always the same—no. You never did. You ignored the voice.
You needed to focus on now, on your circumstance. You thought of Jungkook.
He knew you. What else does he know? Your name, where you're from, the family you once had? What compelled him to come seek you? The possibility that he might be one of the people whom he had warned you about was there. The fact that he seemed to know where to find you and he was familiar with that other man back in the tavern wasn't helping his case—although that might be the result of him being an Information gatherer, as he himself stated. You're taking that with a grain of salt.
And so, you did the one thing you were good at. You escaped.
Looking behind your back, you saw no sign of a dark-eyed man, but it didn't mean you could stop. He had to be there, chasing after you, for whatever the price you had earned on your head—it seemed like a possible scenario—unless he decided you were not worth the trouble after all.
Twigs snapped and leaves crunched as you trudged your way deeper into the forest. You had no idea where you were or where you were going, just that you needed to go. A left. Right. Another left. Under the tangled branches. One more right.
After just a few minutes, while walking through a patch of dense shrubs, you heard it. Thud, thud. It looked whatever price you had on your head, you were definitely worth the trouble.
The sound of hooves echoed through the still of that place, bouncing off of trunks and leaves.
He was closing in on where you were. You were on foot, and with his horse, it won't take long before he catches up to you. Panic announced its presence in the form of the fast beating of your heart. You looked around for a way out. But with no better options, you dipped down bending yourself. You made your figure as small and unmoving as possible as you curled up on the forest floor, trying to keep yourself hidden within the bushes.
Unmoving, you sat there, feeling the ground vibrate with the arrival of your doom. Just then, you heard a flock of birds, wings flapping and loud with caws and screeches, as if scared away by something somewhere far in the other direction.
He was redirecting his horse the other way—you could sense the change—must've thought it was you who scared the birds, so he went that way, trying to find you.
You stayed an eternity in that position before you were sure that no one was coming anymore. Getting up and off the ground, you brushed your clothes.
Where do you go from here?
It was a question you had asked yourself countless times over the past years. You turned and decided to go west. Find a way to get to a town and then decide what to do next.
Walking through woods like this, with no clue or aim, instigated a sense of déjà vu. You recalled the lady, a shoemaker you don't know the name of—maybe you hadn't asked, or maybe you didn't remember. She had nursed you back to health and offered the warmth of her home to a complete stranger; you'll forever be grateful to her. You had stayed there for a few days, sick with grief and guilt. But you didn't try to find out what happened back home—you had made your assumption anyway. It was too much to take in, so you decided to move on for that time.
You recalled travelling with gypsies, waggons decorated in a rainbow of colours, recalled going from one place to another. For a year you kept changing towns and villages, never staying more than a few weeks to a couple of months. Then one day you found yourself on the border of Fubroch and decided that that was it. You were tired of moving. The mountains brought the memories of a home—providing comfort, so you made them your home.
And just like that, years flew by without a hitch as you built a life for yourself here. A life that felt very distant at this moment.
As you hiked your way through the woods, lost in your own musings. You failed to notice the consistent shadows following right at your heels. You were distracted, but not for long.
As you were passing by an old dried well, you sensed some movements just out of the corner of your eyes. You paused. Fingers scrambling for your thigh, shoulders tense, you resumed walking again.
Had Jungkook found you? You thought he went in the other direction?
Your stroll changed into an urgent march. Your eyes flicked from one corner to another, hoping it had been a trick of your eye.
You left behind a series of crumbling structures of stones and mud, your gait hurried—almost a jog now. You chanced a glance back, turned around again, and screamed.
Someone jumped off one of the stone walls just as you turned. A woman. You lost your voice, eyes set on hers. You blinked quickly, getting a better look at her. Dark pants and an equally dark tunic. She had short hair and the gaze of a predator, with which she was scanning you from head to toe. An amused quirk sat on her thin lips, painted a deep maroon complementing her sandy complexion.
"Well, you look lovelier than I expected." Her voice called out, a deep and rough texture paired with the unsettling blue of her eyes. It had you standing on the balls of your feet, ready to flee.
You kept your glaring gaze trained on her, aware of even a twitch in her muscles.
"Aww," she cooed, "look at you, so scared and lost." She lifted a hand, placing it on her cheek, her expression the same as a child would have upon finding a hare hiding in his vegetable patch. Except to you, she felt more like a wolf cornering the hare than said child.
"Why so tense, though?" She took a step closer, hands behind her back. You widened your eyes, sweat gathering at your back and hands getting clammy. She was making you nervous, something akin to the town's flood bells ringing in your ears. For a second your thoughts drifted to Jungkook; you definitely preferred him to whoever she was.
You started walking backward, trying to keep some distance.
"Oh no, no, no, I'm here to help you. To lead you towards the right path." She scrunched her brows in faux concern.
"No need," Somehow, you shakily managed to speak up, "I'm on the right path; I don't need any assistance."
There was no point in dragging this out. You got ready to find an opening and make a run for it, but you didn't even get the time to blink when you saw more people jump out of the rubble.
Two men walked up to the woman, coming to stand behind her. They were more rugged in appearance—the exact opposite of her. Some henchmen.
No time to think. You patted at your knife just as the woman stretched her neck back, looking up at the sky, "Get her."
You wouldn't go down without a fight.
Just as the man lunged for you—bare hands; you couldn't see any weapon on him as far as you could see—you ducked, ramming your body forward and pushing him back with as much force as you could gather. He was caught off guard, not having expected such strength from someone this small. It made him stumble back and gave you a chance to create some distance.
You turned and used that as an opportunity to run. You traced your steps back the same way you had come from, this time in a sprint. You could hear the man following. You pushed for yourself to go even faster.
You were running on just adrenaline and pure terror for your life, but you could not let up, could not let them catch on. You couldn't help but question your predicament. You were being hunted like animals for meat. Who were these people? Looking for you. Hunting you.
"AAH!" You screamed as a hand grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you back. You were thrown forcefully into a nearby tree, rough bark scraping against your skin. Before you could gather yourself, he was in front of you, grabbing your short braid, twisting it around his palm.
"ARGH!" You cried out, one hand going up in an attempt to free yourself of his grip.
"No more running, bitch," he said in a gruff voice, spit flying in your face from the proximity.
He started dragging you back—yanked at your hair when you refused to move, feet digging in the soil. You tried scratching at his face, desperately aiming for his eyeballs. If you got near enough, you wouldn't hesitate to claw them out.
"If done for survival, the gods forgive you," is what your father had said when you once punched the nose of the person who had tried to drown Buck in the river. After which he also taught you how to land a proper punch.
And that's exactly what you did when—to avoid your nails attacking his face—he loosened his grip and tried stepping back to take hold of your arms instead. The moment you got enough space, you reeled back and aimed for his throat. Thumb tucked under the folded fingers and not inside, using only the first two knuckles, throwing your whole body's weight. Hard and fast.
He winced and coughed, trying to get air inside his throbbing windpipe. You grabbed a rock and slammed it against the side of his face. He wobbled and fell on his face.
No longer constricted by his hold, you breathed out in mild relief, but it was short-lived. While you were fighting off the first man, the other one had caught up with you. This realisation crawled upon you when he delivered a blow to your back.
You were pushed to the ground before you could even form a thought. All the air wooshed out of your lungs as sharp pain erupted on one side of your shoulder, "Oh god, no." Your left arm felt numb; nothing was broken, you were sure, but you could feel the dull pain thudding across your back and limbs.
The other man was taller, leaner, and scarier. He was looking down at you with his eyes blown out and mouth pulled in a crazy grin. He leaned down, "Ah, ah. Be a good girl, will you?" He made a tutting sound, reached out, and grabbed one of your legs.
You screamed, kicking out in the air, "No use in resisting, you should have come willingly when we asked nicely."
"Let go of me!" Your throat was raw, body aching and bleeding. Your pitiful condition didn't affect him; however, it only seemed to delight him in seeing you this way. He stood up and started walking away, his hand still gripping your foot tightly.
It was the most pain, physically, you'd ever felt for as long as you can remember. Rocks dug into your backside, your skin scraped against the ground, and hair got tangled with twigs and leaves, pulling at your scalp. All this while he had only taken a few steps.
You kicked out harder; this time your upper body reacted as well—digging your palms in the ground and holding onto anything they could.
You managed to land a hard kick, causing him to drop your limb. You didn't waste a moment and grabbed at his own legs, pulling yourself up and throwing all your weight to make him fall on the ground. Your right hand went to your thigh, and you pulled out your knife, scrambling on top of his chest and locking his arms there by his side with your thighs pushing at him.
Your left arm felt useless, but with the other, you brought the blade to his neck, holding it dangerously close. Just a hair's breadth away from ending him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" You gritted out, eyes watery. The whole day's worth of distress was threatening to unleash from the depths of your consciousness, something you had been suppressing. "What did I ever do to anyone!?" You yelled.
The smile—previously present on his face—had disappeared from his face as you sat there with the cold metal digging into his skin. You have taken life before—but only of animals that you were going to eat. Now that the creature against your blade was an animal of a different kind, you hesitated.
And hesitation kills you in this world.
You didn't see the other man coming until the very last moment. He must not have been as disoriented as you thought. He pounced at you, but this time you had your knife out. This time you didn't hesitate.
In a single motion, the blade found its home deep in between the shoulder and collarbone of the first man.
Blood immediately coated your hands, making them slippery as you let go of the knife, watching your victim slump. Cold dread froze up the blood in your veins. You had killed someone.
There was no time to answer, as the stone of unease weighed heavy in your stomach; the guy below on the ground switched places with you. Now you were the one held horizontal to the ground as his palms made contact with your sternum, wasting no time in squeezing them tight, blocking out all the air but not crushing your throat—yet.
"You crazy bitch!" He barked.
Haze clouded a grey shade around your eyes, growing in size after every excruciating blink. Your torso was crushed under the full mass of an adult man twice your size; you wondered if he was trying to break your ribs. But you couldn't push him. Couldn't even struggle.
Your bones became a burden, pulling your exhausted body deeper into the grass and soil, acting as a makeshift grave you were about to descend into at any minute. Your mind was a numb shell, unable to see what was in front of it, unable to comprehend.
That must be your fate. Your life in exchange for the one you took just now. You would not call yourself very religious, but you believed in a God, and he must have seen the pathetic way you'd been living and is here to claim you.
Your vision turned black; the man was screaming something at you, but no words could penetrate the oxygen-depraved sheet of lethargy coating over your being.
As you lost more of your breath, the thuds of your heart started becoming louder. One second they were in your chest, and the next in your ears. Soon you could feel them vibrating the very land you lay upon. Thump. Thump. Thump.
All of a sudden, you felt light. The force of the man pushing against you lifted off of you in an instant. It was there one second and then vanished the other. Air came rushing back in through the once constricted pipes. You gasped for the breath hungrily, making its way into your lungs, and sputtered on your greedy inhale.
It took another few moments before the shadowy haze cleared from your eyes, and you were blinking back at what seemed to be two males locked in a sword fight.
One of them was the man who had been choking you, and the other—your eyes widened upon the realisation that the other person was none other than—
"Jungkook?"
His name was merely a whisper in the air, breathed into life through the brush of your lips against the words.
He delivered the last blow—a slash down his opponent's chest—before he turned to you.
Jungkook stood there with his sword dripping red while he panted; from the short fight or having hurried over to come save you, you didn't know. Maybe the latter. No, definitely the latter, if his pinched expression directed at you was anything to go by.
"You," he stepped over the fallen body groaning on the ground, "are an idiot."
You felt like laughing. He was fuming, and you let loose a single puff of airy laughter. You couldn't help it; the stress had taken a toll on you; your body ached in more places than you could count. You were beaten and bleeding. You almost accepted that you were going to die. But here you were, saved by this man not once but twice, in the same day.
You owed him.
"Glad to see you still have it in you to smile." Came a deep, feminine voice.
Both of your eyes turned towards the direction the voice came from. You leaned on your arms while he drew his sword for an attack.
There stood the blue-eyed woman from before, and upon seeing Jungkook take an immediate protective stance in front of you, something gleamed in her gaze.
"I must admit, watching you fight for your life was so entertaining." She sauntered forward, showing no sign of even grabbing for her weapons strapped to her, "and a pleasant surprise."
She rounded around where you were and stopped a good distance away, "even more surprising to see that you have got mercenaries protecting you." She said as she eyed the black ink on Jungkook's arm, which was now exposed.
You flicked your eyes between her and Jungkook. He remained motionless, but you can see how taut his muscles were, ready to pounce in a moment's notice. He didn't say anything, just observed. What is this woman playing at?
She let out a shrill whistle. Loud. Like a signal of some sort.
You prepared for the worst. Did she call for help? Backup?
Instead, a dark brown horse came running from behind the broken stone columns, galloping towards her. It didn't even stop completely before she grabbed the reins and hauled herself onto it mid-run. Walking in a circle, she faced you, looking straight in your eyes.
She tilted her head back, stretching her neck in a lazy motion as if the possibility for more bloodshed wasn't hanging in the air waiting for the moment she draws her weapon too. "So damn resilient, like your damn father." She muttered lowly; you thought you had misheard her. She stared at you.
"Alastair is protecting you even after death, huh?"
The air stopped blowing, the screeching of birds silenced, and your throbbing body went numb.
Palms digging in the forest floor, you could only gawk at her as she regarded you with disdain.
Her eyes, blue as the summer sky, looked red in that moment. Wild and predatory. You felt dizzy. But then she blinked, and the illusion broke; they were blue again. You shuddered. The voices from years ago rang in your ear.
She was one of them. The people who came chasing your father that day. The ones who killed-
A silent whimper left your parted lips.
So this was what it was about. Why you were targeted. Why your life was in danger. It was all due to what happened to your father. Now you will meet the same end. They came for him then, and now they came for you.
You thought it was over. Oh, how wrong you were.
You ran as much as you could and yet couldn't outrun your fate. Were more people coming? With swords? They will leave you bloody and torn. Will they kill Jungkook too? He would leave before that happened. Is that wolf nearby? Was he the one who led them to you?
A tear slid down the curve of your cheek. You imagined all the ways they would end you, the most scary one being torn to shreds by the sharp teeth of an atramentous beast.
The sound of her horse neighing cut through your terror-filled questions.
She met your dazed, tear-glazed eyes. "I'll see you soon."
You watched her go. Still in your place, disconnected from reality.
It wasn't until you heard your name being called out loud that you came back to reality. Someone was shaking you by the shoulder.
"-get up? Y/n, can you stand?" You flicked your gaze up, connecting with inky ones staring deep in yours.
Swallowing, only the sandy taste of dread scratched against your throat. Yet, you managed to open your mouth: "Are you one of them?"
Your voice was grating to the ear, stifling in defeat, so unlike the demanding tone you had before. It caused Jungkook's expression to display an emotion you couldn't quite put your finger on. Unsurprising, given you couldn't take in anything right now, really.
He watched you stare up at him for a moment before something snapped in him. He got on both his knees, grabbing a hold of both your shoulders. He squeezed tight; it strangely grounded you a little.
"Look here, in my eyes, and listen." His voice was firm, and he spoke slowly but with a surety, "I know it's hard to trust me right now, but I need you to get this one thing." He paused and inhaled before letting it out, "Your life is in danger, and I meant it when I stated I'm here to keep you safe. I will protect you."
The words came and swirled around in your mind, not quite settling in. His eyes were intense, and when you looked, really looked, past the darkness, you could see the hint of genuineness. In this moment, you held onto that as a lifeline, and so when he asked.
"Understood?" You nodded your head. "Good."
His palms lifted off of your shoulders, and you would be floating again in the vast uncertainty and fear had he not offered one of them right in front of your face.
"This place is not safe. We need to move on from here," he nodded, urging you to grab his hand.
What else was there to do? It was clear that you would be killed if you refused, and if he too wanted the same thing, unlike what he claimed to be doing, then at least it looked like he would be quicker in his kill. And so you lifted your arm, gently placing your palm against his, letting him haul you up.
Another, black horse came trotting over. You recognised it to be his. He gave your palm a squeeze, telling you to get up on it.
You flicked your eyes between the majestic creature and its master. A soft groan forced your eyes away and towards the other men lying on the ground; it seemed one of them was still conscious.
"He... he is alive." You murmured, looking at the man you had stabbed.
"Want me to finish him off?" He threw in casually.
You gaped at him, eyes full of disbelief and horror.
He puffed air out of his nose, "I didn't mean that." It wasn't very convincing. You looked back at the man, "Are you seriously considering helping him? After he attacked you?" You weren't.
His brow raised as he regarded you with a tilt of his head and a semi-disapproving look on his face. At last he just sighed, "You need to think about only yourself, or else you will get us both killed."
He walked you to the horse and stopped, "Wait a moment." He let go of your hand and reached out to grab a piece of clothing from a few feet away. It was your cloak; you had dropped it during the fight. He dusted the deep green fabric and gently pulled it around you. Then almost immediately grabbed your hand again.
He gave your palm another swift squeeze, and this time you mounted the horse with his help.
As he peered up at your fiddling form, down from where he stood, the lines on his face grew a little softer, his expression a little more sympathetic.
He latched his foot on the holding, "You will get your answers soon," and climbed behind you expertly.
As he reached his hands around you to grab the reins, his front touched your back, and while you were not one who gets particularly cold, his warmth was a surprisingly welcome sensation against your bruised backside.
His knuckles tightened in a grip, you kept your hands close to you, "you trust me?" He clicked his tongue, getting the horse to move, and it started walking at a leisurely pace. He felt you shaking your head against his chest, his lips quirked, and if you had turned around, you would've witnessed him grinning softly.
"Good."
The horse broke out in a sprint as you both rode off, leaving behind the forest and—you had an inkling—this town for good.
Soon you were at the southern border, riding along the river marking the end of Fubroch's territory.
And despite what you had insinuated about your opinions for the man, you soon found yourself leaning your head back and drifting off to an unconscious state. Away from the reminiscence of the events that occurred today and the pains of the past. The nipping cold of the reality slipped away as you gave in to the firm warmth of the momentary comfort.
Taglist (from my previous blog) : @runariya @jksusawife @boyfriendtaekook
'Who let this kindergartener drive a race car' was my first impression of this Jungkook 😂. This was so enjoyable so far even tho I have no idea about motorsports and race cars lol. Waiting for the next update 💚💚
pairing: f1 racer!Jungkook x f. race engineer!reader rating: +18, MDNI genre: Colleagues 2 Lovers, romcom, angst, fluff, smut warnings: mature themes and explicit content wc: ~3.7K
a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. 💕
1 • masterlist • 3
Thankfully Friday dawns clear and bright as you approach the gates of the Hockenheimring, the sky a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight, with the early morning sun casting beautiful, long shadows over the historic track. The Hockenheimring, with its rich history and legendary status in the world of Formula 1, is already alive as all the crews buzz around, setting up equipment, fine-tuning cars, and preparing for the race weekend ahead, the scent of freshly cut grass from the surrounding fields giving you a boost of energy.
Excitement vibrates through every fibre of your being as you hand over your badge to the security guard. The moment should be routine, but his stern expression immediately gives you pause.
"I'm sorry, miss, but this badge appears to be fake," the guard says condescending, holding the badge up for closer inspection under the sunlight.
Your heart skips sinks to the floor immediately. Just yesterday, you spent the entire day here, moving freely through the paddock and crossing paths with this very guard multiple times. "There must be a mistake. I'm with the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team," you insist, striving to keep your voice calm amid the rising panic in your throat.
"Sure you are. I’ve seen plenty of fakes. This one looks just like the rest."
Frustration wells up inside you, threatening to bubble over. From the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook walking by, his confident swagger unmistakable even at a distance. "Jungkook!" you call out, waving at him frantically, hoping for a lifeline this early in the morning. But to your disappointment, he just glances your way but quickly looks away, continuing his stride without acknowledging you.
The guard shakes his head. "See? If you were really with the team, someone would have recognised you."
A wave of helplessness washes over you, and you mentally call Jungkook a few names. Before you can argue further, Joongki, George’s race engineer, walks by and notices the commotion, heading over without any delay.
"What's going on here?“
"This lady claims she's with the team, but her badge is fake," the guard explains, holding up your badge as if it were a piece of contraband.
Joongki looks at you, then back at the guard. "She's with us. Her name's on the team list. Let her through."
The guard reluctantly nods and hands your badge back. "Alright, you can go in."
"Thank you, Joongki," you sigh in relief as you take your very real badge back.
"No problem," he replies with a reassuring smile. "Come on, let's head to the meeting."
As you walk together through the busy paddocks, the roar of engines being tested and the chatter of mechanics and engineers create a symphony of sounds that even without all the fans is uniquely Formula 1, especially when you catch the scent of high-octane fuel mixed with the aroma of fresh coffee from the nearby hospitality tents.
Joongki doesn’t take long to catch your attention back. "So, how are you finding the job so far?"
"It's been incredible," you reply, genuinely enthusiastic. "I watched the simulation of Jungkook yesterday. His precision is remarkable."
Joongki nods. "He’s talented, no doubt about it. But he can be a handful."
You chuckle. "I’ve noticed. How do you manage George?"
"George is a professional, but he has his moments too," Joongki says with a wink. "It's all about balance."
You can’t help but giggle and nod along, even when you arrive at the Mercedes team area and enter the meeting room. Jungkook is already there, frowning as he notices you walking in with Joongki, watching you with crossed arms.
Without a word, Joongki heads to George, standing behind him, and you follow suit, taking your place behind Jungkook. The room is quickly filling up, a sense of anticipation growing continuously inside your veins as everyone gathers around the large table, which is laden with various snacks and drinks. A Keynote presentation is projecting blueprints, data sheets and strategy plans onto the wall behind Toto, a large part of it coming from you.
Toto begins the meeting not shortly after, his authoritative voice silencing everyone without much trouble. "Alright, everyone, let's get started. We have a lot to cover before the training session."
Jungkook turns slightly your way, pushing you forward. "Stand in front, dwarf," he mutters under his breath.
You frown up at him as you pass, clearly displeased with the insult, but comply regardless, stepping in front of him. As Toto goes over the strategy, you feel a tug on your hair. Not turning, you swat Jungkook’s hand away, trying to stay focused on the meeting.
"Stop it," you whisper full of irritation.
But Jungkook doesn't stop. He continues to toy with your hair, and after the second time you push his hand away, he still doesn’t seem to get the message. You sigh in resignation, deciding to let him play with your hair, hoping it’ll keep him occupied enough to remain otherwise civil.
Toto continues, oblivious to the minor drama between you both. "Our strategy today is crucial. The Hockenheimring not only demands precision but teamwork as well. Each of you has a role to play in our success."
You try to listen intently, but the constant fiddling with your hair is too distracting to set your focus straight. Why has Jungkook's behaviour has to be infuriating and perplexing? Why does he have to act like this?
"And Jungkook," Toto addresses said man directly, which thankfully causes him to tense behind you, toying hands freezing mid-twirl, "your performance at the simulation yesterday was impressive. Keep that focus today."
Jungkook relaxes and finally stops playing with your hair to acknowledge Toto. "Will do, boss."
With a brief reprieve, you manage to take notes and pay closer attention. Toto outlines the key areas of focus for the day, emphasising the importance of communication and adaptability. You jot down every detail, determined to do your part flawlessly.
"Joongki and ___,“ Toto says, gesturing to you, "I need you to ensure all systems are optimised. We can’t afford any technical glitches."
"Understood," Joongki and you reply in unison, giving each other a small smile and giggle. But your giggle dies down immediately as Jungkook tugs on your hair again, making you turn around and give him a warning glare. He looks straight ahead, over your head, pretending not to notice.
"And for the rest of you," Toto continues, "stay alert and be ready for anything. This track has its challenges, but I know we can conquer them."
As the meeting draws to a close, Toto claps his hands together. "Alright, team. Let's make today count."
You gather your things, relieved that the meeting is over. Jungkook's antics have been exhausting, and you’re eager to get back to the professional tasks at hand.
"Remember what we discussed," Toto reminds everyone as the room gradually gains in volume. "Stay focused and give it your all."
With a final nod, you and the team disperse. As you exit the meeting room, Jungkook catches up to you.
"Nice work in there, by the way," he says, the smirk playing on his lips not matching the compliment he tries to deliver.
"Thanks," you reply, trying to keep your irritation in check.
"Let’s hope you can keep up during the training,“ he adds, and with his teasing tone you’re sure there never was a compliment to begin with.
"I’ll be just fine," you retort, determined not to let him get under your skin.
You quicken your pace, hurrying to the garage as you follow Joongki, who has gone ahead. Mentally, you prepare for the day's challenges, and despite the rocky start, you remain confident in your abilities and ready to tackle whatever comes your way.
Yesterday's training session was a resounding success. Out of the fourteen possible tyre options, you meticulously tested virtually all options and decided on the three best choices, again testing those at training under race conditions. The data gathered from these tests, once analysed and altered in the strategy, was approved by everyone, setting a solid foundation for today’s qualifying.
It’s Saturday midday by now, and the atmosphere at the Hockenheimring is just fantastic. The sun is high in the sky, glowing warmly over the bustling pit lane, and mirroring your spirit. Mechanics and engineers hustle about like never before, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while the drivers, including Jungkook, focus on the task ahead. You had no problems entering the premises today, and Jungkook has remained professional, a welcome shift from his usual antics.
It’s hard to make out everyone in the garage, as everyone’s a flurry of passing figures as the team prepares for the qualifying session. Joongki, you and the other engineers are all hunched over your laptops, analysing last minute data streams, while mechanics double-check the car’s settings. Jungkook sits in the cockpit of his car, a picture of concentration as he listens to the final briefing over the team radio.
"Alright, everyone, let's stay focused," Toto's calm voice comes over the comms. "Jungkook, remember the plan. We’re aiming for a strong position."
"Got it, boss," Jungkook replies.
By now you’re standing by the side, tablet in hand, monitoring the data in close proximity. Despite the rocky start to the prior day, you feel confident in your abilities and the strategy you’ve helped develop. Jungkook and you exchange a brief, professional nod, acknowledging the importance of this day.
The qualifying session begins right after you and Joongki are seated at the pitwall, and cars take to the track one by one. When it's Jungkook's turn, you watch the monitors intently, tracking his every move. He launches off the line with his usual precision, navigating the curves and straights of the Hockenheimring with his usual finesse, his initial times promising.
But then, something starts to feel off. The data on your screen shows an anomaly, and a knot of anxiety forms in your stomach. You frantically try to diagnose the problem, but the more you look, the more the data blurs together into an incomprehensible mess, swimming in your vision no matter how hard you try to separate each line. The pressure mounts, and you can’t pinpoint the issue in time.
On the track, Jungkook's performance begins to falter rapidly.
„Fucking hell! DO SOMETHING!“ His voice screams through the radio, his lap times aren’t meeting the expected benchmarks, and it's clear something is wrong with the car. Despite his best efforts, he can’t push the vehicle to its limits. The session ends with a disappointing result: Jungkook qualifies in P5.
The team is silent as Jungkook drives back into the garage, and you can see the frustration painted on his face as he removes his helmet and steps out of the car.
You’re too scared to say a word, especially as an emergency meeting is called immediately. You, Jungkook, Toto, the technical director James, Joongki, and George, who qualified P7, gather in the briefing room.
"I apologise," you begin, bowing your head in disappointment of yourself. "I should have caught the issue sooner. It's my fault we couldn't perform better."
Toto nods, and it’s surprising that his expression, while still stern, is not unkind. "We'll figure it out. For now, let’s focus on understanding what went wrong."
The meeting continues with technical discussions, but you can barely focus, the weight of your mistake clouding your mind and restricting your airways. Once everyone is dismissed, you remain seated, staring at the empty desk in front of you.
Jungkook, however, stays behind. He closes the door after you’re both alone, his steps echoing in the now silent room as he walks towards you. You can make out his angered face in your peripheral, though you refuse to look at it.
"How difficult can it be to choose the right tyres from fourteen?" he snaps with so much contempt it punches you in your gut. "Even a chimpanzee without a degree would have done a better job."
There’s nothing to do than to remain silent, as you still refuse to meet his gaze, eyes fixed on the white, empty desk before you. The insult stings a lot more than you ever thought, but you’re determined not to let him see how deeply it affects you. You have to.
"Look at me!" Jungkook barks so loud you can’t help but flinch.
You will your pupils to stop trembling and school your features back to neutral as you lift your head and lock eyes with him. The glare you’re met is is fierce, Jungkook’s anger barely contained. But still, you’re not able to get a word out.
"I knew it was nepotism," he continues, his words like a blade not only cutting into your pride, but your heart as well.
You watch as Jungkook turns and begins to walk towards the door, but just as he reaches for the handle, you find your voice and speak, your voice as freezing as the coldest winter, stopping him in his tracks.
"My position has nothing to do with nepotism," you muse, each word precisely shot like a bullet. "You should know that. Mr. Jeon Junior."
Jungkook tenses even more, his hand still hovering over the door handle. Slowly, he turns back to face you, and you’re not sure if his expression, full of shock and fury, satisfies your anger or not. The room stays silent, the tension between you crackling like static in the air, until Jungkook turns and leaves.
Race day at the Hockenheimring is a media frenzy, with reporters and cameras swarming the circuit and paddock like bees to honey. Bright lights flash and microphones are thrust into the faces of team members and drivers alike, each seeking a soundbite or a glimpse into the high-stakes world of Formula 1. You weave through the throng, keeping your head down and profile low, your focus solely on the race ahead.
The screams of questions are distractions you can't afford, so your path has to be a series of calculated dodges and quick steps, easily slipping past eager journalists and sidestepping photographers, all thanks to your short height. This is not the time for interviews or media appearances; your mind is on the data, the strategy, and ensuring every detail is perfect for Jungkook's performance on the track.
As you dance through the last few meters of the paddock of Ferrari, a hairs breath away from your team one space further, a determined reporter manages to intercept you. His microphone is already poised, brushing your nose for a moment, as he boldly asks, "Excuse me, could you spare a moment? How is it to work for Jungkook?"
You offer a polite smile, keeping your tone professional without breathing too heavily from the exercise. "It's a blessing to work for the Mercedes AMG Petronas team. The entire team, including Jungkook, is dedicated and talented. It’s an honour to contribute to such a high-performing group."
The reporter, not missing a beat, probes further, "And are you single?"
Maintaining your composure, you reply diplomatically, "I believe our focus today should be on the race and the team’s performance. Personal matters are best kept private."
He glances at your attire, noting that it's different from the usual team uniform. "You're not wearing the usual uniform. Is this something new?"
You nod, indicating your outfit. "Yes, my dress is part of our new uniform collection, available in the merchandise store. We wanted to offer something stylish and feminine for the fans."
"Thank you for your time," the reporter says, slightly taken aback by your poised responses.
"Thank you," you respond, maintaining your smile as you quickly head towards your team, ready to immerse yourself back into the race preparations.
Stepping foot into Mercedes’ paddock the mechanics, engineers, and team members are already making their final preparations. The conflict from yesterday is still heavily on your mind, but you have to not let it affect your performance. You’re a professional, more than capable, and you will your confidence not to waver even more.
You sit down at your workstation, double-checking the data, ensuring that every detail is perfect. The screens in front of you display telemetry, tyre pressures, and fuel loads and you don’t waste time in letting your fingers fly across the keyboard, typing last-minute adjustments.
You haven’t yet spoken to Jungkook today, only briefly seen him with his physical therapist, Trish, who looked at you strangely for no apparent reason since day one of you working with Jungkook. It doesn’t help that his words from yesterday still echo in your mind, but you push them aside as good as you can. There’s no room for doubt now and so you finish your checks and head further into the paddock to fetch a drink, hoping the cool liquid will steady your nerves.
As you approach the vending machine, you hear voices coming from a nearby room. You recognise them immediately: George, Toto, and Jungkook. Curiosity gets the better of you, and as your name falls, you can’t help but secretly listen in.
“I don’t know what your problem is with her, and it’s none of our business,” George says.
Toto’s voice follows. “But remember that the radio is public during the race, so school your words and don’t pull a media stunt.”
Your heart races as you hear footsteps approaching the door. You quickly walk past, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. The three of them emerge, their expressions serious, but thankfully they don’t notice you.
The team gathers for the final preparations and the drivers slip into their suits. While George’s and Jungkook’s cars are the same, it’s Jungkook’s car that looks a bit more sleek, a silver beast that’s gleaming under the midday sun. Or maybe it’s because of him, as he climbs into the cockpit, his face steeled by concentration.
You take your place at the side, headset on, ready to relay information. The tension in your veins mutes your surroundings as the minutes tick down to the start of the race. The spell is broken as the engines roar to life, filling the paddock and your ears with a deafening sound, making the crowd’s energy skyrocket, their contagious cheers breathing new determination into you.
And as Jungkook and all the other drivers complete their warm up round, he takes his position on the starting grid in P5, two positions before George.
"Alright, Jungkook, stay focused. Remember our strategy," you say over the team radio. "We've got this."
The scent of burning rubber and the electrifying screams of the crowd fill the air, amplifying the intensity of the moment. That’s it, that’s what you’re here for. You watch intently, a collective breath is being held, as the lights go out.
Jungkook launches off the line, his reflexes razor-sharp. He surpasses the initial chaos with precision, the roar of engines and screeching tyres a symphony of speed. The first few corners are tight, but he manoeuvres deftly, maintaining a solid position within the top five.
"Great start, Jungkook. Keep pushing. We're right where we need to be," you encourage, your eyes glued to the live feed and telemetry data.
“Got it,” Jungkook’s voice crackles through the radio, letting goosebumps rise on your skin like his accelerating speed.
As Jungkook approaches the notorious Turn 6 hairpin, the tension mounts even more. He brakes hard, the car almost dancing on the edge of control, and executes a near-perfect turn that allows him to overtake two competitors. The crowd gasps in awe, witnessing his skill firsthand.
"Fantastic move! You're now P3. Keep the pressure on the leaders," you inform him, a note of excitement creeping into your voice you can’t contain.
“Copy that.”
The race progresses, each lap a testament to Jungkook's prowess and the team's meticulous planning. He expertly navigates the Hockenheimring's combination of high-speed straights and technical corners, inching closer to the front with each lap. His focus never wavers, his communication with the pit crew and you seamless.
“Box this lap, box this lap. Confirm, please,” you call out as he approaches the pit entry, the strategic change crucial for maintaining his edge.
“Understood. Box this lap.” Jungkook executes a flawless pit stop, the team working with military precision. Tyres are changed from medium to soft, designed to gain more speed for the remaining laps and in no time, he’s back on track, maintaining his momentum as if nothing happened.
"Excellent stop. You're P2 now. Just some more laps to go," you say, your excitement mirroring the intensity of the race.
Lap after lap, Jungkook closes the gap to the leader. The final laps of the race are a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase and with just two laps to go, he sees his opportunity. On the Parabolika, the long straight, he activates the DRS, gaining a significant speed advantage.
"Go for it, Jungkook! Now's your chance!" you urge him, adjusting the DRS to give him the most push.
He makes his move, slipping past the leader with a breathtaking overtake.
The moment is pure magic.
“GOTCHA!” he screams into the receiver, making you and the rest of the team burst into laughter and cheers.
The crowd erupts, and Jungkook holds his position through the final turns, expertly defending against any counterattacks. The finish line is in sight, and he crosses it first, triumphant.
"You did it, Jungkook! You won!" you shout over the radio, unable to contain your elation. You punch the air and bump fists with Joongki sitting beside you.
As Jungkook slows down on his victory lap, Jungkook waves to the adoring fans. Today, with the support of your team and Jungkook’s talent, he has conquered the Hockenheimring.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Jungkook says through the radio. Though his gratitude is clear, your mind drifts back to the conversation you overheard just earlier and its implications. Your smile falls a bit as you contemplate his honesty.
a/n2: reupload of 2024 Version
All Rights Reserved © runariya 2025
bitch this is all you’re gonna get. this life, this face, this body. you better not ‘maybe in another universe’ your way out of everything. sit your ass down and face this. go make tea and have a picnic and read a goddamn book. kiss your loved ones, send that damn text, and hug your siblings. this is all you’re gonna get.
JIN ‘Don't Say You Love Me’ MV
Just a heads up, there are bots going around on AO3 accusing people of using AI. Considering the timing, this is likely AI bros' retaliation for AO3 users calling them out for scraping their work. Examples of what you might be sent:
Screenshots from here.
If you get a comment like this, just report for spam and delete.
Edit: apparently they're also using people's usernames to try to make the spam seem more authentic, so if you get a guest comment from someone you recognise, it's likely not them.
i love tumblr glitches. sponsored message everyone