content — fluff, attempt humor, established relationship, boyfriend anton, reader teasing anton, anton being soft, period comfort, protective anton, mild sexual humor, suggestive jokes, marriage mention, MDNI
note — Heavy on the Attempt humor ok? im still trying to get the hang of Smau´s
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ please consider liking, commenting, or reblogging!
a/n... i feel like we all saw this coming... anton has been my recent obsession ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ). i need to spread the word. I LOVE ANTON. I AM OBSESSED WITH ANTON. i added a little insert for daisy because she's been having a terrible day @flowerwonu (so i will be feeding into the delusions) i love you so much i hope your day only gets better from here! i hope you guys don't mind me writing for other groups <3 hope you enjoyed!! and let me know what you think (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³
the house was silent, enveloped by that unique calm that early morning brings. you stirred in bed, reaching out to his side… empty. you frowned, half asleep, before rising quietly. the dim light escaping from under the study door guided you. you walked barefoot, shuffling a bit until you carefully opened it.
and there he was, in a gray sweatshirt slung over one shoulder, disheveled and with his eyes fixed on the screen of the program where he was composing. his leg was moving rhythmically, his brow slightly furrowed, but his expression was changing with each note he was trying out. he looked so focused that you almost felt like interrupting him.
until he turned around.
his gaze softened as soon as he saw you, and he smiled thinly.
“i couldn't sleep,” he mumbled, taking off one of his headphones.
you didn't say anything. you just walked over to him and, without asking permission-because you didn't need to anymore-you sat sideways on his lap, hugging him by the neck.
he let out a little hoarse laugh, tired but happy.
“my night girl,” he whispered against your hair, as his arms wrapped around your waist. his nose brushed your cheek and left a slow, soft kiss.
“you've been here for hours,” you murmured softly, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “i missed you in bed…”
“i missed you too,” he replied. “i just wanted to finish this part…but with you here already, i think i have everything i need.”
another kiss. this time closer to the corner of your lips. then another on your forehead. His hand moved up and down your back, caressing you so calmly that sleep almost returned.
“will you fall asleep with me here for a little while?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“no,” he said softly, and just as you were about to answer, he added with a little smile, ”i'll sleep with you…but in bed. come on.”
and he carried you. just like that, as if you weighed nothing, as if it wasn't already dawn, as if the world could wait.
he carried you silently into the bedroom. but instead of leaving you on the bed, he sat you on top of him again, now on his legs, on the edge of the mattress. his hands stayed on your waist, firm, and his eyes roamed over you as if he was seeing you for the first time that night.
“do you know how hard it's to concentrate when i know you're just a few steps away from me… in your pajamas… in our bed?” he whispered, in that low, almost husky voice that escaped him as desire began to mix with affection.
you let out a nervous giggle, and he caught it with a kiss.
slow. deep. the kind that steals your breath, that starts soft and gets more desperate as the bodies get closer.
his hand moved, slowly, up your back, slipping under the fabric of your pajamas while the other lingered on your cheek, guiding the kiss as if he didn't want it to escape.
your breathing was already different. faster. more irregular. and he noticed. he always noticed.
“i love you,” he murmured against your lips. “and there isn't a night that goes by that i don't want to hold you like this… close. mine.”
he slid your panties to one side and went down to kiss your neck, with the patience of one who wants to savor every part. you clung to his shoulders, feeling the atmosphere becoming charged with something electric and warm. his sighs, his fingers that marked every centimeter they touched… and the world became just that: him, you, and the desire beating like a secret between your skins.
his lips kept moving down, leaving a trail of lazy kisses on your collarbone while his hands kept caressing your waist with a restrained need.
your heart was beating so loudly you was sure he could hear it.
“i need you close,” he whispered in a tone so low i shivered. ”you don't know how much…”
with an ease that only he had, he lay back taking you with him, trapping you in his arms as if he didn't plan to let you go. your body fit against his so naturally it hurt from how perfect it felt.
his hands, bolder now, crept over your breasts, caressing the bare, sensitive skin of them, pinching your sensitive nipples slowly, savoring every reaction he wrung from you. You moaned low, almost unwillingly, and you felt him smile against your skin.
“like this… stay like this,” he murmured, his voice a rough sigh, as his hand moved down your stomach, making you shiver until he lost himself in your wet heat, with his other hand, pulling you gently to deepen the kiss that was now anything but innocent.
his body, warm, strong, enveloped you completely, and between kiss and caress, he was guiding you, taking you to the edge of vertigo. your fingers clung to his shirt, tugging at it, wanting more. needing more.
his long fingers traced a back and forth over your wet panties, torturously delicious and slowly, you lifted your hips, awash in pleasure, he was making you lose your patience a little, as if he understood your pleas, which you were unable to formulate because of the condition you were in, he pushed aside your panties, focusing on circling over your sensitive clit and occasionally moving down and playing with his fingertips at your very wet entrance.
anton looked down at you, his eyes dark and dilated, and stroked your cheek as if it were something sacred.
“you don't know what you make me feel…” he said, panting slightly as he brushed his forehead against mine. ”you're mine…all mine.”
and then, his lips found yours again, and tangled between sheets, hungry kisses and desperate whispers, letting the night envelop them completely.
summary: y/n's heart has been broken one too many times, and being dumped over her unruly dog max was the last straw. now determined to care for max on her own, how long can this hopeless romantic resist falling for her mysterious yet compassionate neighbor anton especially when he's so good with dogs.
the rain had finally given up after three straight days of turning quezon city into a giant puddle. sidewalks glistened like they’d been polished, air heavy with petrichor and the faint charcoal smoke from someone’s roadside inihaw. you clipped max’s harness with practiced annoyance, he’d already eaten the corner of your favorite throw pillow while you were showering and headed out.
max, golden retriever extraordinaire, trotted ahead like he owned the whole barangay. tail helicopter blades, ears flapping, zero concept of “heel.” your ex’s parting words still echoed sometimes. “he’s too much, y/n. you’re both too much.” you’d stared at the half-empty closet, then at max sprawled across the bed like he belonged there more than anyone ever had. “then leave,” you’d said. he did. max stayed.
two months of single life later, you were still choosing the dog every single day.
the courtyard of your mid-rise condo was quiet tonight, only the drip from aircon units and the distant rumble of edsa traffic. max zeroed in on a suspicious leaf when he suddenly perked ears straight up, body language screaming new friend alert and yanked you toward the wooden bench near the fountain.
someone was already sitting there.
tall. dark oversized hoodie, hood up, earbuds in, legs stretched long. he radiated that rare, unbothered stillness like the universe could be on fire and he’d still just exist quietly. max, never one to read social cues, let out a single delighted woof and launched.
“max, no!” you hauled back, cheeks burning. “sorry, he’s super friendly. too friendly.”
the guy tugged one earbud free. looked up. his eyes were dark and kind, the outer corners crinkling the second a tiny smile appeared.
“it’s cool,” he said, voice low and soft like late-night radio. “i like dogs.”
max was already glued to him. butt wiggling so violently the leash vibrated in your hand. the guy reached down immediately confident but gentle and found the exact ear-scratch spot that turned max into a puddle of happy sighs.
“he’s massive,” the guy murmured. “golden?”
“yep. max. he’s… a full-time job.”
“he’s perfect.” another slow scratch. max flopped onto his back like he’d been waiting his whole life for this exact moment. paws up, tongue lolling, shameless.
you stood there awkwardly holding the leash while this stranger gave your dog VIP treatment. up close he was stupidly pretty sharp jaw, long lashes, dark hair falling into sleepy eyes. the kind of face that made you forget how to blink for a second.
“anton,” he said after a beat, glancing up at you. “4b.”
“y/n. 3c.” you shifted weight. “sorry again. he gets excited around new humans.”
“don’t apologize.” anton’s fingers kept moving in lazy circles through golden fur. “i’ve been missing this. my family’s back in jersey. my old dog choco stayed with them when i moved here for the studio job.”
you nodded. most guys either pretended max didn’t exist or made that tight polite smile that said they were counting the seconds until they could escape. this one was half-kneeling now, giving full belly rubs like it was his civic duty.
max rolled over, nudged anton’s wrist for round two.
“you walk him every night?” anton asked.
“pretty much. otherwise he starts redecorating the apartment. creatively.”
anton laughed, quiet, warm, surprised. “smart. keeps you busy.”
“keeps me broke,” you muttered. “new leashes, new shoes, new sanity monthly subscription.”
he stood up slowly. tall taller than you’d clocked while he was sitting. max immediately leaned his whole weight against anton’s leg like he’d officially been adopted.
“mind if i tag along sometime?” anton asked, rubbing his nape, ears going faintly pink under the courtyard lamp. “courtyard’s nice at night but… kinda lonely. plus.” he nodded at max. “dog withdrawal is real.”
you blinked. “you want to voluntarily walk this chaos gremlin?”
“yeah.” small, shy smile. “if it’s okay.”
something tiny and hopeful flickered in your chest. you stomped it flat immediately. nope. no more. you’d promised yourself after the last heartbreak. max only. no boys. no butterflies. no nothing.
but max was staring up at you with those liquid brown eyes, tail thumping anton’s calf like morse code for pleasepleaseplease.
“…fine,” you said at last. “tomorrow. same time. but if he chews your shoelaces, that’s on you.”
anton’s whole face softened. “deal.”
the next night he was already waiting by the gate same hoodie, but now sporting a little black treat pouch clipped to his waistband like he’d come prepared for battle. max lost every ounce of chill and nearly dislocated your shoulder getting to him.
“brought bribes,” anton said, shaking the pouch. “chicken & rice flavor. vet-approved for sensitive tummies.”
you raised an eyebrow. “you googled his breed’s dietary needs?”
“…maybe.” he looked mildly embarrassed. “i like being prepared.”
you snorted, but your chest felt weirdly warm.
and just like that, the walks became a thing.
every night, 8 p.m. sharp. anton appeared. sometimes with a new rope toy still in plastic. sometimes with his portable speaker playing chill lo-fi he’d produced himself. sometimes just his quiet company and those long-fingered hands that knew exactly how to calm a hyper golden retriever mid-zoomies.
you talked about stupid stuff at first.
his late-night producing sessions in 4b (neighbors never complained because he kept it quiet after 11). your endless battle with freelance deadlines and max’s war on socks. why max despised the vacuum cleaner (it was obviously possessed). how anton once spilled an entire tray of pearl milk tea all over himself during a part-time job in high school.
he never asked about the empty space on your ring finger or why your laugh sometimes cracked when a couple walked by holding hands and matching dog leashes. he just… stayed. matched your pace. let max zigzag between you like living jump rope.
one stormy night you almost bailed.
then your phone lit up.
anton: still down? got the big umbrella. fits three if max behaves.
you met him in the lobby. massive black golf umbrella. when you stepped under it your shoulder brushed his hoodie sleeve. max shook like a wet mop right beside both of you, showering you in droplets.
“perfect,” you groaned, wiping your face. “we’re all soup now.”
“still worth it,” anton said quietly. his eyes were on you, not the rain. “you look cute even when you’re grumbling.”
your heart slammed once, hard. you looked down at max instead. “traitor,” you muttered to the dog.
weeks folded into a month. max started planting himself by the door at 7:55 p.m. every evening, whining like the world was ending until you harnessed him. you caught yourself smiling at nothing remembering the low way anton laughed when max tried to catch raindrops, or how his pinky brushed yours when you both reached for the same treat at the same time.
one sticky, jasmine-scented evening after the longest loop yet, max finally flopped onto the courtyard grass like he’d run a marathon. tongue out, sides heaving happily. you and anton sank onto the bench. thighs touching now. neither of you moved away.
after a comfortable silence, anton spoke, voice barely above the crickets.
“i used to think i sucked at this. people. talking. all of it. too quiet. too… inside my own head.”
you glanced sideways. “you’re pretty good with max.”
“max is safe.” fond smile. “dogs don’t care if you’re awkward. they just want you present.”
he turned to face you properly then. eyes steady. a little scared.
“but you…” he swallowed. “being around you feels easy. like breathing. i didn’t expect that.”
your throat closed. “anton—”
“i’m not asking you to decide anything tonight,” he rushed out. “i just needed to say it. i like our walks. i like seeing your face every night. i like the way you talk to max like he’s a person. and i think—” another swallow. “i think i really like you.”
max lifted his head. looked from you to anton like he was watching a very important tennis match.
every single breakup memory flickered past. the “you’re too intense,” the “i can’t handle the fur everywhere,” the suitcase wheels rolling over your heart. but anton had never once recoiled. he’d researched max’s food sensitivities. bought the durable kong toys. laughed when max stole his beanie and paraded around the courtyard like a king. stayed.
“my last ex left because of max,” you said quietly. “said we were both too much work.”
anton went very still. then he reached over slow, careful and covered your hand with his. warm. steady. faint guitar-string calluses on his fingertips.
“max isn’t too much,” he said simply. “and neither are you.”
you looked up. his eyes were soft, open, terrified in the best way, like he was handing you his heart and hoping you wouldn’t drop it.
you turned your hand over. laced your fingers through his. small. tentative. real.
“okay,” you whispered.
he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. small, relieved smile.
“okay.”
max barked once, sharp, celebratory. tail thumping the grass like drums.
anton laughed under his breath. “that’s a yes?”
“that’s a heck yes,” you said. “he’s been campaigning for team anton since night one.”
“smartest dog alive.” anton leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to back out.
you met him halfway.
the first kiss tasted like relief. like rain that finally stopped. like coffee from the 7-eleven you sometimes split. careful at first, then deeper when you slid your free hand to the back of his neck. he made this quiet, surprised sound against your mouth and pulled you closer.
when you separated, foreheads touching, breathing uneven, max had wedged himself between your sneakers, belly-up, paws dangling like he’d personally orchestrated the entire scene.
“package deal,” you murmured, smiling against anton’s lips.
“best one i’ve ever signed up for,” he whispered back.
the walks stretched longer after that.
slower.
sweeter.
sometimes anton brought his acoustic bass and played quiet riffs while max dozed in a sun patch. sometimes you brought two iced coffees and one straw, passing it back and forth while your pinkies hooked under the table. sometimes it rained and you shared the big umbrella anyway, shoulders pressed, laughing when max tried to catch every drop.
max still destroyed at least one thing per week. you still cursed when he pulled too hard on the leash. anton still showed up every single night, treat pouch full, smile soft, patience endless.
but now there were three shadows under the streetlights instead of two.
and when the next big typhoon rolled in weeks later, flooding half the city and turning the courtyard into a kiddie pool, you didn’t even hesitate.
you: rain walk? or are we calling it?
he appeared twelve minutes later rain jacket, biggest umbrella, shy grin.
under the canopy, rain drumming above, max splashing ahead like it was his personal beach day, anton slipped his hand into yours.
“still worth the wet socks?” he asked, voice almost lost in the downpour.
you looked up wet hair plastered to his forehead, eyes warm despite the cold.
“still the best part of every single day,” you answered.
he stopped walking.
turned.
max tugged once then sat obediently like he understood the assignment.
anton cupped your face with both hands gentle thumbs brushing rain off your cheeks and kissed you slow and deep under the umbrella. tasted like rainwater and chapstick and promises.
when you broke apart he rested his forehead against yours.
“i’m not leaving,” he said quietly. “not because of max. not because of rain. not because of anything.”
you closed your eyes. believed him.
because for the first time in forever the hopeless romantic hiding inside your ribcage didn’t feel pathetic or embarrassing.
she felt safe.
she felt wanted.
and max chaos incarnate, destroyer of pillows, professional third wheel just wagged his tail so hard his whole back end shook.
like he’d known from the very first woof that this was how the story was supposed to end.
three shadows. one umbrella. one very smug golden retriever.
and love messy, loud, tail-wagging love finally feeling like home.
secretly dating anton but y'all are actually really obvious: headcanons
𖦹 anton x reader, reader uses they/them pronouns!
𖦹 fluff, secret relationship
𖦹 typos + grammatical errors ahead :)
anton carrying your bags, and you consciously giving it to him as if your friends aren't looking at both of you.
"why are you carrying their bag?" friend asks
"he's just being nice" good thing, you're a pathological liar
but anton's not the best at lying nor pretending
anton unconsciously taking a portion of your meal because he knows that you get full easily.
"when did you guys got so close to the point that you eat each other's food?" anton would just stare at them til they drop the topic.
meeting up at the restroom because anton wants to hug you so bad he's tearing up
anton playing with your fingertips under the table
anton accidentally calls you "babe" so he started calling everyone babe
anton looking at you whenever someone's flirting w him. he refuses which makes your friendgroup suspicious about his dating life.
"i'm just- i'm- i'll- um" anton can't lie, unfortunately
"coincidentally" wearing matching fits
"what the hell, 'ton. do you have like a big fat crush on me? why did u wear the same fit" you jokingly said. anton's eyes are shimmering as if he's being hypnotized; he was about to say yes.
anton unconsciously playing with your hair while everybody's busy
"i thought you don't like it when people touch your hair?" they ask you so you're now forced to like it when OTHER people touches your hair
"bab- hey. do you um- can you help me with my stuff" anton can't come up with an excuse to get you out of the room either.
you explaining something to your friends, anton suddenly removing a strand of hair from your face which made everyone freeze.
"what the hell" -- "it's just hair" anton defended
anton UNCONSCIOUSLY giving you the first bite of his sandwich. at this point y'all aren't pretending anymore
sidewalk rule. anton pulling you casually to his side while you're busy yapping w ur friends
anton always asks: "did you skip your breakfast again?" which makes ur other friends wonder if anton would ask about their breakfast too...
"oh this is good" anton instantly taking a sip from ur drink the moment he hears ur reaction.
"you guys just kissed indirectly." - ur friends
"i mean- i don't- that's not true lol. are we kids?" and you gaslighting them
ur friends js watching anton take candid photos of you for like 27x today
acknowledging ur presence the moment u enter the room unless..
.. u arrive together (coz he's always picking u up)
most importantly, the eyes.
anton's eyes never lie. the way he looks at you while you're talking, the way he's always admiring you-- it's already a huge give away
even before you guys started dating, everybody already concluded that anton has a big fat crush on you.
with that, they're now thinking that anton finally got together with his crush
though you guys think that y'all are hiding it so well
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ WORD COUNT: 16.3k
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ TAGS & WARNINGS: f1!au, teammate's sister!au, strangers to lovers!au, straight up fluff
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ SYNOPSIS: incoming f1 rookie jung sungchan is focused only on one thing: get through his first season without losing his seat by the end of it. ferrari's taken a big chance on a rookie this year, and he's not about to mess that up. on the other hand, your job is to keep your brother in the good graces of fans and media and draw all attention to your brother.. . and not yourself.
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ NOTES: the race order in this follows the 2025 calendar & there is no intentional similarities to any real-life racing events/results/incidents. this is in an ideal world, where ferrari has a good car and a competent team. we can only dream. i have a lot more planned for this couple, but wanted to get a fic out for the bday boy. watch this space!!!
happy birthday to our amazing and talented jung sungchan<3 i love you my jinsu!
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 01 - AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX
You're doing your best at keeping your face neutral as you watch executives, managers and staff buzz around you at the very edge of the garage. The phone in your tight grip sounds out the 7th ring and you grow more impatient as it continues on.
Finally, the line clicks.
"Mark, where the fuck are you?" you snap into the phone abruptly.
On the other side of the line, Mark lets out this deep, resigned sigh that has steam coming out of your ears, "Sis, chill. I'm coming back now."
You hear a shrill, high-pitched laugh in the background of the call and a whiny voice calling for your brother and you want to choke yourself out on the spot. You now know exactly where he is but you decide you'll give him the opportunity to lie to you.
"You better not be at the fuck ass Williams garage, I swear," you seethe into the phone, "40 minutes before lights out and you're not even at your own garage."
Your profanity catches the attention of the team principal walking pasts you, who shoots you an exasperated look, "Where is Mark?"
Letting out a nervous and awkward chuckle, you point to your phone, "He's coming. He's coming"
Fred just nods and makes a hurry up gesture with his hands as you bring the speaker back to your ear. You catch the tail end of Mark's rant where's he's calling you "-such a fucking bore."
"Just get here on that dumb little scooter of yours, now," your tone leaves no room for argument as you hang up and shoot Fred and the engineers a thumbs up as they look around in confusion.
Anyone would be confused if their driver suddenly went AWOL 40 minutes before the first race of the season and they're all looking at you because unfortunately, it is your job to ensure Mark is where he needs to be at all times. You didn't think telling him to be at his own team's garage before a race would be part of it though- let alone the first race of the new season.
You've always known that your brother, the social butterfly, likes to wander. And if you don't know where he is, he's probably somewhere gallivanting with Williams driver Lee Haechan. You caught some of it at the tail end of the previous season when you began feeling out your role and getting the low down from your mom who has since handed the job over to you after you graduated the summer before.
Officially, you're Mark's manager, but you're more like his manager, publicist, personal assistant, therapist, and babysitter rolled into one. Starting this season, your job is to make sure that Mark's only worry is getting into that car and driving well, which means that everything else falls on you and your stress level is at an all time high 100% of the time.
No wonder your mom had to take an early retirement.
You honestly, truly, genuinely had no idea how much work went into managing an F1 driver and you could have all the undergrad and masters degrees in communications in the world and you'd still have no idea how your mother endured it since Mark's younger karting days.
You zone out against the wall for what feels like forever, until you hear your brother's calls into the garage as he zooms in through the front on that scooter that actually makes him look quite stupid, but it gets him places faster than his feet.
"I'm here, someone tell Y/N to chill," Mark chortles and you resist the urge to throw the brick of a phone in your hand straight at his face.
"I'm gonna go to hospitality then," you breathe out deeply to calm yourself, knowing you were resolved from duties for the next hour and a half while he zooms around the track. You peer out the garage door and see it's still raining as it had been all morning and afternoon, "Good luck, Markie. Be safe out there."
Though you're residually annoyed at your brother for making you stress, the nerves you have before each race finally begin to seep in between your bones to replace that feeling. It's not even a welcome substitution, but it's a familiar feeling having watched Mark race for the better part of your life.
He reaches over to ruffle the top of your head and shoots you a gentle smile before nodding his head in the direction of the door to shoo you away.
Over the years, it's grown easier to watch Mark race, but that feeling will never go away- the one where your stomach sinks into a pit every time a competitor gets near him, the one where you hold your breath every time he dives into an overtake on a dangerous corner, the one that explodes into a ball of flames on those rare occasions he crashes and you have to find out if he's okay alongside the world. This is your first year as part of Mark's team, and with that, you know you have to travel to every race weekend with him. Before, you could only manage to get to the weekends that fit around your school schedule and exams, meaning you only had to deal with those emotions a handful of times per season, plus the occasional broadcasts you would catch if it was in the right time zone. Now, it's a new challenge of making it through every weekend without ripping all of your hair out in anxiety.
Your mind is all occupied and in tatters that you don't even register it completely when you bump into a figure and nearly trip over your own feet. A set of strong hands catch you at your shoulders to steady you, "Woah, careful."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking," the hallway out of the garage is narrow and you should have been looking to make way for whoever was coming.
When you finally look up, you're face-to-face with a visage you've only seen on social media posts recently, "No worries- wait, you look familiar," his eyes drop down to the pass around your neck- an all-access Ferrari pass- "Do you work for Ferrari?"
"Y/N Lee, Mark's sister and manager," you introduce yourself calmly.
"Ah, right. I'm Sungchan. Sungchan Jung," he bares his teeth in a charming smile as he fiddles with the fireproof suit pooling around his waist. Ferrari's newest driver, and a rookie at that, stands in front of you all wide-eyed and fidgeting. He's probably nervous for his first F1 race under the emblem, having only raced a couple times in the previous season as a reserve for Haas.
You laugh at him, "I know who you are. But nice to finally meet you. You'll see me around a lot this season, but probably rarely in as calm a state as right now."
Sungchan chuckles with you, "Does your version of calm involve you walking into people all dissociated?"
"My only advice to you is be nice to your manager and don't make them pull their hair our trying to get you to where you need to be," you tut at him before looking back at the garage and realising, "Which is probably exactly what you're doing. Get in there, Jung! Good luck for the race."
Sungchan tugs his lips into an appreciative smile as he ruffles the hair out of his face, "It's nice to meet you, Y/N Lee."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 02 - CHINESE GRAND PRIX
You're not that familiar with the Shanghai Grand Prix grounds, having only visited it the one time in Mark's 2nd season. It's the first year in 5 years that the track returned to the calendar, so the crowd is pumping with excitement and your brother nervous in his motor home.
For most tracks, drivers could do it with their eyes closed, driving on feeling and memory built up over the years. It's comforting to know that a majority of the other drivers on the grid were also fairly recent racers with limited experience on the track.
Although the practices went okay and he was starting on the grid at P2, you could read it in his face that he was unsettled as he went through his breathing exercises in the chair. His coach had recommended him to meditate before races to keep his head clear and get his head in the game and he's followed that advice religiously ever since.
"Markie, what's wrong?" you call out softly to him.
His head lifts up to meet your gaze, "It might rain during the race. It was such a shit show with the rain last week and if I can't see anything out my visor, it's gonna be a mess again."
You know your brother was having a hard time grappling with the P3 finish after starting in pole in the first race of the season. He was coming off a driver's championship the previous season, so everyone was expecting him to keep the momentum going and win right off the bat.
"It's only the second race, Mark. The season's long, so don't get in your head about it so early on," you try to comfort him, "Plus, every driver will experience the same weather as you on the track. You just have to trust in your team, okay?"
"Speaking of team, I can't believe Sungchan is starting in P5 today," Mark clapped his hands together as the thought came to him, "Maybe we can fight for a constructor's championship this year."
The rookie already impressed the team and the public with a points finish in Australia, securing P7. Last season, Mark had nearly single-handedly led Ferrari to 3rd in the constructor's championship, but his lack of a consistent teammate had meant they couldn't get any closer to the top. There was a reason that there was a new driver in the second seat and you, along with everyone else, were hoping that he could take Ferrari to that next level again.
"I bumped into him just before the race last weekend. He seems nice," you comment casually, happy to distract your brother from his nerves, "Where did he come from? Feels like he just came out of nowhere."
"As if you followed last season diligently," Mark teases, "But he's a Ferrari junior, raced a few times as a sub last season too . He's got a hell of a lot of potential though, but I hope he doesn't get on my ass too much."
You shrug, "Some competition is nice."
"He's the youngest person on the Ferrari team right now- other than you. You guys should be friends," Mark says, "You'll see him a lot this year."
"Ha, is this also your way of saying I don't have friends here?" you tease him.
Mark rolls his eyes, "Cause you don't."
"I'm friends with Eunseok's girlfriend," you protest, offended.
"And she's never ever in the paddock because she's a doctor," Mark counters, "All I'm saying is that it's nice to have a friend on the team."
You decide to shelve his comments in the deep section of your brain reserved for things that weren't about your brother and your job as you check your watch, "It's time to go to the car now. You good?"
Mark flattens his lips together, "Always ready. Going up to hospitality? Or watching from the garage today?"
"Depends how in the way I feel in the garage today," you shrug and follow him out of his motor home. He greets the staff members that litter the path and makes small conversations with a few engineers that briefly join your walk before breaking away.
Behind him, you're tapping furiously at your phone to ensure you had absolutely everything mapped out and booked in for his post-race duties.
"Ever keep your eyes up?" Sungchan's voice isn't so familiar to you yet that you can recognise him without looking. You don't stop in your tracks as you look up and see him peering down at you.
"Mark's a busy guy, which unfortunately makes me a busy woman," you mutter, finalising something on the calendar you share with Mark before pocketing your phone, "How are you feeling for the race? Great job in qualifying."
"Yeah, I'm really happy with where I'm starting. It's gonna be tricky defending my spot from the rest of the grid but I'm excited," the expression on his face is endearing and full of passion.
"Good luck," you tell him sincerely, "I'll be watching from the garage today and cheering you on!"
Sungchan's face twists in surprise at your words, "You will?"
You give him a confused look, "You're my brother's teammate and the team would love a constructor's championship this year."
Sungchan makes an 'ah' face, "Yeah, of course. Thanks Y/N."
"Why do you look so surprised?"
He looks hesitant to answer you as his mouth opens, then closes, before it opens again, "I'm not used to people cheering for me. That's all. See ya later, Y/N."
Jung Sungchan disappears behind your brother in a wall of race engineers and tyres stacked up to the roof. You're confused by his comment briefly before your mind transports itself back to a time between the end of the last season and the start of this one when your brother had told you about his new Ferrari teammate.
Mark had been frowning at his phone, reading the comments of the post announcing Sungchan's F1 contract. There were masses of hate comments left by strangers on the internet who were so angry about this young adult getting the Ferrari seat over their favourite driver and that conversation with Mark had left such a sour taste in your mouth and a lot of sympathy for his teammate you hadn't yet met.
In a blink of an eye, you're pressed against a wall of the garage, peering up at the screens displaying the feed of the race. Evidently, you couldn't find a seat in the area, but you were too distracted by your own thoughts to trust yourself to put one foot in front of the other.
Mark was doing well as you expected. He had managed to undercut the race leader with a well-timed pit-stop and even managed to give his teammate a good tow in the process of waiting out the pitstops in front of him. The guests and staff around you were all buzzing with excitement at the prospect of the first Ferrari win of the season, but somewhere along the way when Mark had a comfortable lead, your gaze had started focusing on the letters 'JUN' on the side of the feed.
He had managed to keep his position at P5 50 laps into the 56 lap race, and he was getting closer and closer to the car ahead. With Mark seemingly securing his victory already with a 9 second gap, the garage had then started to talk about the rookie and his prospect of a higher points finish.
Sungchan was very nearly in DRS range to the car in front of him and with every turn before the detection zones, everyone held their breaths. Your routine was to tune into Mark's feed on your phone to get all the info from his team radio and the pit-wall in case there was something you'd like for him to address in his post-race interviews, but your fingers had moved by themselves to switch the feed to Sungchan's.
"Give it everything, Sungchan," his race engineer had instructed softly as he began lap 52, "Your tires will hold out until the end. Push, please."
His voice was shaky as his radio came in, "Copy."
"1.046 to Song."
In every other situation, you'd feel bad for Eunseok. You were almost friends through his sweet girlfriend, but Sungchan was your brother's teammate and you were practically a Ferrari employee. Of course you were going to cheer for the rookie.
Sungchan hadn't managed to close the gap before the first DRS detection zone, but going down the first straight, it seemed like he had just put his foot to the ground and nudged his car right up to Eunseok's. You couldn't breathe as he sent the cars full throttle into turns 14 and 15, knowing he needed to get within a second of Eunseok before turn 16.
The roar of the garage was electric the exact second that DRS was activated and Sungchan flew past the Mercedes in a handful of seconds. You let out a sigh of relief as the garage burst into applause.
In your lone earbud, Sungchan's race engineer comes in proudly, "P4. Well done, Sungchan. Keep it up and defend, okay?"
"Jung's defying all expectations," someone beside you murmurs, "I doubted him when they signed the contract, but he's proving everyone wrong."
The person they were accompanying replies something in favour of the rookie, but his words from earlier echoes back to you- I'm not used to people cheering for me.
It reminds you of Mark's early racing days when winning or getting on the podium at every race wasn't the norm. It took a lot of hard work for Mark to get on the top, but there was a point he was contemplating on giving up, but your parents had sat him down and asked him whether that would be what he truly wanted. Their support for him instead of pushing him into a more conventional and less expensive path was enough for him to keep trying, at least just for that moment. From then, Mark never looked back.
Sungchan had this expression of uncertainty when you spoke to him earlier. Maybe all he needed was someone to truly believe in him.
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 02 and 03
It certainly felt pointless to you to fly halfway across the globe from China to Italy when the next race in a week and a half was in Japan, but wherever Mark went, you followed. It's not your first time in Maranello, sure, but you've actually never been allowed to spend a lot of time at Ferrari HQ when you were just Mark's sister and not his employee.
Still, there's not much for you to do at the headquarters other than twiddle your thumbs and gaze upon the endless trophies of the past they had displayed. In the past 2 days that Mark has been doing stuff with the team, you've read pretty much every plaque describing all the moments immortalised on the canvases lining the walls. You already knew a lot about Ferrari history from dining room table conversations with your family, but now, you're definitely an expert.
The staff have been exceedingly nice over the past couple of days, always asking if you wanted a drink or a driver to take you around town, but you'd mostly just declined in your best Italian and scrolled your social media in the corner of this boujee lounge dedicated for their drivers.
You don't actually even know what Mark's doing with the team- you haven't bothered to learn all the nitty-gritty technical things related to the car and driving, saving your brain expenditure on publicity training tips to impart on your brother and organisational skills instead. It was certainly no easy task trying to communicate to all the brands that sponsored your brother and all the people reaching out to have him do this, that and the other, all while making sure his calendar was prioritised for his races and F1 commitments first.
Sure, a GQ photoshoot and spread would be good for his fame, but if Ferrari needed him at Maranello, then they'd either have to come to Mark themselves or find another driver.
"Hi Y/N," Sungchan waves at you in greeting as he enters the lounge. He's throwing back an energy drink down his throat as he takes the sofa across from you, "Still waiting for Mark?"
"I don't know when he'll be finished again. I probably should have just stayed in the hotel," you nod solemnly.
"Why did you come to Italy? You could've gone back home in your break or travelled a bit," Sungchan asks you curiously.
You shrug, "I'm Mark's employee now so I guess I have to follow him. Canada's too far for only a week's stay and Monaco is boring without Mark there. I just moved to Monaco so I don't really have that many friends there yet."
Sungchan grins, "I'm moving to Monaco soon actually. Right of passage for F1 drivers, I guess."
"Oh, you don't live there yet? Where do you live?"
He gestures out the window with his hand, "I moved here when I was 15. I've been a development driver that long. My mum came with me at first, but she went back to Korea when I turned 20."
"Oh that's so cool- do you speak Italian?" you quiz him.
"Sì, certo," Sungchan blurts proudly, "It's definitely not native level but I try my best."
"That's very impressive," you compliment, "I only know how to say yes, no and where's the toilet in Italian. It's actually only my fourth time in the country."
Sungchan looks surprised, "Really? But Mark's been a Ferrari driver for years and years."
"I've been busy with school; Canada is so far from the rest of the world. I worked whenever I was off school too," you explain to him, "My whole family came to Maranello though when Mark signed his rookie contract with the team and I came to Monza and Imola a couple years back."
"Does that mean you haven't seen much of the town?" there's a glint in his eyes as you shake your head, "Do you want a tour from a local? I'm free the rest of today."
For a moment you contemplate whether it's ethical to leave your boss hanging, but then you remember he's also your silly older brother. He definitely wouldn't mind if you ran away with Sungchan for an afternoon- he didn't even want you to come to Maranello with him to be honest.
"Would Mark mind?" Sungchan can see the gears turning in your head.
"Nah, he doesn't have time to show me around himself anyway. Are you sure though?" Sungchan holds an arm out that you grab to tug yourself up to your feet.
He points out the window, "It's a gorgeous spring day. Let's make the most of it!"
You're not sure why, but you don't hesitate to follow Sungchan out of the room and to wherever he wanted to take you. After shooting Mark a quick text, you catch up to the heels of the tall driver.
He bows and say thank you and goodbye to every staff member you come across out of the building and they all look at him with such fondness and adoration that you start to understand why they might possibly choose a rookie driver who's grown up with the team over a egotistical, over-cocky external recruit.
The Ferrari HQ actually has valet, so Sungchan walks up to the desk and greets the staff there like they're old friends before they disappear into a door behind the desk.
"Ah, of course you have a car here; you live here," you hum beside him as he leans against the glass at the front of the building.
"Mhm, they gifted it to me when I made my F1 debut last year. I have to ship it to Monaco soon, though," he cocks his head in realisation, "Or drive it 5 hours over the border. Maybe a road trip would be fun, but it's not like the car would carry anything anyway."
As soon as he says that, a sleek and expensive looking sports car with the prancing horse logo pulls up into the front. The valet steps out and hands the key over to your companion, who gestures for you to get inside. Your brother has his fair share of flashy cars, so it's not anything new to you, but you don't deny it's still cool.
Sungchan opens the passenger side door and you watch it swing up instead of out. You give him an appreciative smile before he jogs around to get behind the wheel.
"I wish I could compliment you on this car, but I don't know much about them," you say sheepishly, "I'm definitely eager to learn more as I go through the season."
He's started driving already without telling you where you were going, but you somehow find it in yourself to trust him with your life despite only having met him a handful of times.
"How come you ended up working with your brother then?" he asks.
"I have an undergrad and masters in communications, so being a PR person or manager was the natural route. My mum has been doing it for Mark for forever and she wanted to retire from it, so it kind of felt natural for me to step into her role out of college," you explain, "I know, I know- I'm a nepo baby."
Sungchan shrugs, "Mark's lucky to have family at each race then no matter what. If I was him, I'd hire my sister who's literally educated in that area with no doubt. That's definitely something I'd consider but my parents and my older brother are content in their other careers."
"I'm assuming you have a manager, but I haven't met them yet. Do you get on well?"
A soft smile adorns his face, "Yeah, Changmin's like my second dad. He's been with me for a while too, but he has a few other racers in his management. Still, he's incredible, seriously. I'd be so lost without him."
"I wish Mark would appreciate me like that. Instead, all he does is stress me out by running away with Haechan before races," you snort, "Just kidding, I know he's grateful- or he should be."
Maranello isn't that big of a place so your conversation comes to a halt after a few more minutes of Sungchan finding out more about your family and your role with Mark. He parks up on the side of the street in front of a row of shops and restaurants.
"I forgot to ask if you were hungry, actually," Sungchan looks sheepish as his two hands grip the steering wheel as he turns the car off.
You giggle at his expression, "I'm always down for Italian food- and authentic Italian food this time."
His grin is dazzling as he reaches for the car door and tells you to wait. You obey, despite not quite realising why he requested that in the split-second it took for him to reach your side of the car and open your door. Sungchan offers out a hand to help you up, knowing how difficult it was to get out of the sports car sometimes without looking silly.
"You're such a gentleman, Sungchan. Your mother's raised you well- or your past girlfriends," you tease him lightly.
He lets out a playful scoff as he denies, "Nah, I've never even had a girlfriend. Was too busy racing in my teens and I was homeschooled when I came to Italy so I didn't exactly know many Italian girls to fall at my feet. But yeah, my parents have drilled it in me and my brother to treat people well."
"Hey, you're an F1 driver now," you nudge him playfully as you follow him to an entrance of a restaurant with a brick facade, "Your life is about to be yachts, models, partying and celebrities. You're the celebrity."
He scrunches up his face adorably, "I don't know about that one, actually. Doesn't seem like the lifestyle for me."
Every moment passing with Sungchan just shows you how good of a person he seems to be. Mark may be right in trying to get the two of you to be friends.
The restaurant he takes you to is small beyond the exterior, but it has a homely vibe with the colourful, but wearing tablecloths adorning the surfaces and the soft music crooning over the speakers. Sungchan speaks in hushed, fluent Italian to the server who smiles at him like he knows him- which every person in the town probably does.
The server leads you to a table in the far corner, but it's still a good spot to not make you feel cramped. It's just cozy and just right.
Sungchan translates carefully what the server harps off about the restaurant and when they leave for you to decide, you eye the menu in hesitation. There's not a lick of English on it, which you don't expect, but you didn't buy any data to load Google Translate as you thought you'd be scrounging off hotel and HQ wifi the whole time.
"I'll go through the menu with you," Sungchan offers softly when he sees your reluctant face and plucks the laminated sheet out of your hand, "Are you allergic to anything?"
"Nope," you murmur. You're in awe of his kindness, truly. He's currently sat across the square table from you, but he picks up his chair and moves perpendicular to be able to nestle in beside you. He leaves behind his own menu to lean over and peer at your own.
You don't even realise you've frozen until he's softly saying your name, "Y/N?"
"Oh, yeah- sorry!" your cheeks flush pink after being caught out, but Sungchan doesn't take notice as he points to the starters.
Diligently, he translates every dish and the descriptions, giving his own opinions and watching your face react to each item. From his recommendation, the two of you decide on your food and he calls over the server to take your order. You weren't a big drinker and wine wasn't exactly up your alley, so you settled for soft drinks instead.
When Sungchan finishes listing the familiar food items, the server's eyes flash towards you before he says something to Sungchan. The driver, who was still sat beside you, breaks out into little giggles as you notice the tips of his ears start turning red while he curtly responds.
"What did he say to you?" you ask curiously, taking a sip from the water the server had supplied when you sat down.
Sungchan purses his lips and opens them, before he hesitates and closes them again for a second, "He just made a funny joke. It's in Italian so hard to translate."
You eye him warily, "Hm, okay."
He asks you a question to distract you into a tangent about your degree until the food comes. Unsurprisingly, it's the best Italian you've ever had and the server, despite his little English, manages to dedicate such great customer service to you that you're practically a silence away from writing poetry in their TripAdvisor reviews.
Sungchan happily details to you his life- how he got into racing, his highs and his lows in his career and his biggest dreams. The way he babbles between fork-fulls of pasta is utterly endearing that you have to stop yourself from reaching over the table and squeezing his cheeks. Still, you keep composure as he talks about his racing heroes.
When the food winds down and you're stuffed to the brim, finished off by a good helping of tiramisu, Sungchan is already behind you, ready with your jacket to slide over your arms.
"We haven't paid yet, though?" you frown at him.
The server, carrying a tray of drinks to another table, passes you at this moment, "Mr Sungchan paid. Che bella coppia! Buona serata!"
You look over at Sungchan who waves a dismissive hand at you and leads you out of the restaurant and to the car with a goodbye to the staff.
"What did he say at the end? I'm guessing he said have a good evening and bella means beautiful right?" you investigate him. The smile on the server's face was so sincere; you wished you understood what he said.
"He said what a beautiful couple," Sungchan chews the inside of his mouth bashfully, "I told him earlier that we weren't a couple, but he's just teasing."
You realise suddenly, "Ah, that must be what made you so red earlier, haha. It's fine- he's a lovely man and it's an amazing restaurant."
You both clamber into your respective sides of the car as Sungchan displays a solemn expression, "I just realised that was probably my last time there for a while since I'm moving."
"You act like the HQ for the team you drive for isn't here," you tease him, "Maybe you'll just have to learn to cook like them!"
Sungchan chortles, "As if! You can be my taste-tester in Monaco then. You'll regret giving me that idea."
You join his hearty, melodious laughs, "Okay, I'll see you in Monaco for that."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 03 - JAPANESE GRAND PRIX
You were having your first difficult weekend dealing with your brother. It was so hard, in fact, that you didn't even join him for dinner after qualifying day.
A spun out Alpine during his final Q3 flying lap meant that he only qualified 6th and he certainly felt some way about it, making his feelings known to the press. Your brother isn't usually so hot-headed and irrational when it came to these things, but sometimes, things just build up and his fuse blows.
The Alpine had been driving erratically all weekend, seemingly unable to properly control the car, and it was just Mark's luck that the bright livery managed to crash into the championship leader's own red vehicle. But still, Mark should've known to keep mum- it was still early in the season anyway. You don't win championships on round 3.
But the damage was done and he had run his mouth and you were dealing with all these requests for comments from all these papers, while simultaneously trying to keep up with the comments about your brother on social media. It's tricky because you know people's opinion changes up in a snap of your fingers and a lot of people do accept that motorsports gets intense and things said in the heat of the moment both during and after a race should be taken with a pinch of salt, but at the same time, Mark has a reputation to uphold and sponsors to keep happy.
Not only was Mark subject to a hefty fine for his language over the radio and in the post-session interviews, he was also being subjected to the wrath of his little sister who's work was cut out for her.
"I said I'm sorry," Mark pleas beside you as you walk through the paddock and over to garage on race day. He stops a few times to take photos with kids and sign some caps and shirts, but he has to scuttle to keep up with your marching pace.
"You should've kept your mouth shut," you grumble, trying to keep a neutral expression for the eyes you know are watching you, "And you ruined Sungchan's qualifying too."
Mark pauses at the comment and furrows his eyebrows together, "Sungchan? Since when do you care where he qualifies?"
Mark didn't exactly crash in the altercation with the Alpine, but he was so in his head and also driving erratically that he had accidentally impeded his own teammate on the track who was on his own flying lap. Thankfully, the stewards considered the situation that happened just seconds beforehand and let him off with a warning, but Sungchan had only managed 8th in the end.
"We're friends," you snap, "Weren't you the one that suggested that?"
"Jeez, I'm just gonna stop talking," Mark sighs defeatedly at your tone.
"That would've been useful yesterday," you mutter under your breath. Your older brother shoots you an exasperated look, but you shoo him away to where he needed to go as you reached the Ferrari area.
You situate yourself in the majorly empty garage with most personnel headed to the team meeting before the race. You wave and greet the few members of staff loitering about, but for the most part, you busy yourself with the emails piling up in your inbox.
Time passes around you in the form of mechanics and engineers passing in and out like one of those movie montages and you don't know how long it's been until a hand taps you on your head to call your attention.
"No way," your mouth drops when you see your visitor, "I didn't know you were coming."
Eunseok's girlfriend returns your grin as you sweep her up in a hug. It's been a while since you've seen her- not since the season started even!
She laughs melodiously, "I didn't think I was able to come either, but I was able to swap my shift last minute so I could attend race day. Japan's not too far anyway. How've you been- do you wanna pop out and get lunch at one of the stands?"
Mark's gonna be occupied in the meeting for a good while, so you agree and link arms with your first friend you met through F1.
"What's it like doing the whole travelling to every race thing? And officially working for your brother?" she asks you. In the corner of your eyes, you spot a few people stop and snap a pic of the two of you as you peruse the paddock for food.
"It's already exhausting travelling and this is only race 3 of 24," you sigh, "And Mark pissed me off bad yesterday. Did you see what he said to the press?"
She giggles in guilt, "I did see the buzz on social media, yeah. It's okay; it happens. Remember when Eunseok crashed with Namjoon last year?"
You click your tongue, "Maybe I should get Mark his own separate PR manager? I can just do everything else as his general manager."
"Nah, he'll remember now for every time he thinks about running his mouth to the media," she reassures you, "Has the team been treating you well?"
"Duh! They're all lovely even though I'm one of the youngest," you gush, "They're don't boss me around like some might do to their driver's PA. I don't know if maybe it's cause I'm his sister too, but they've been good."
"Everyone would love you no matter what," she dismisses.
You became friends with Eunseok's girlfriend early in the previous season at a race you were both fortunate enough to attend. She'd gotten lost trying to find her way back to Mercedes' area in Saudi Arabia and you had asked if she was okay, since she looked on the verge of tears. You exchanged social media accounts and got lunch in the city centre the Friday before the Melbourne GP and the rest was history.
You didn't make it to every race of the last season as you finished up your final year of university and she was a newly qualified doctor, so it was hard to see each other often, but you kept in touch.
You both decide on a lounge set up in the paddock and take a seat away from the glass front. You order pretty quickly and the server promises to return with your food as quickly as possible.
"You know what though?" she begins with a small, tight frown, "It's gonna be hard for you to date now you have to travel so much. You're never gonna be in one place at one time."
"Psh, I'm not even thinking about dating!" your voice raises in pitch and volume in defence, "Plus, you and Eunseok make it work."
Her face contorts into this kind of pained expression, "We do, but it's hard. But we've been together a long time, so it's been a more gradual shift to the full on F1 calendar and career. I guess you should just date someone who works and travels with an F1 team. Do you want me to get Eunseok to ask around who's single?"
You bat at her arm, "I'm not trying to date, seriously. I'm busy enough as it is trying to adjust to being Mark's manager!"
"Text me when you change your mind," she rolls her eyes playfully, "Do you wanna watch the race together? Or do you have to be at the Ferrari garage?"
"I'm not actually sure on the etiquette on that, but I should probably be at Ferrari to make sure I can drag Mark away quickly with my hand covering his mouth in case he starts getting mouthy again," you sigh in annoyance, "We can catch the next race together, whenever you'll make it next."
"I'll be in Miami," she confirms happily, "We can party it up on Jungkook's boat after!"
"You mean his mega-yacht?" you snort. The Mercedes legend has a reputation for hosting the best and wildest parties on his yacht, which you were yet to experience. However, he did invite your brother once to have dinner on the yacht, catered by a Michelin-starred chef, which he graciously dragged you to despite you not knowing anyone on that vessel.
"It's mammoth," she emphasises, "Oh, I'm excited!"
When you finish eating, you drop her off to Mercedes' garage and elbow your way through the buzzing crowd to get back to Ferrari. It was less than hour before the race now, so it was getting busy both around the paddock and in the garage. You could see both Mark and Sungchan on their respective sides, floating between their car and the engineering station.
They're close to sending the car out on the grid for the reconnaissance laps, so the drivers stand out from their team in their matching fireproofs. Mark gives you a rushed, but enthusiastic wave as you settle yourself if your usual corner of the garage and you give him two thumbs up to wish him luck. Sungchan, on the other hand, spots you a few minutes later and surprises you by jogging on over to you.
You haven't spoken to him since he dropped you back off at your hotel in Maranello, but you did follow each other on Instagram a few days ago, which was instigated by him. It's been a busy weekend, so other than waving at you in passing during media day, FP sessions and before qualifying, there had been no instances of greeting each other properly.
"Hi Sungchan," you grin as he bounds on over to you, "Good luck today."
"Thanks Y/N. Haven't had the chance to say hi all weekend," he runs a free hand through his soft locks as he grips his balaclava tight in the other.
"It's been busy," you agree, "But you'll do great out there. I know Mark made it hard for you yesterday, though."
Sungchan looks over his shoulder briefly, watching Mark preside over his engineers with hands on his hips, but he just shrugs, "Part of racing and he didn't mean to. Obviously, he didn't know it was me and I would have been way less composed after a collision."
As a racer, Sungchan's been involved in more collisions, accidents and incidents than he would've liked to admit- it was part of the sport. Over the years, he's learned how to deal with them and how to pick himself up after and keep going even when it hurt or he felt guilty.
But it was his rookie season in the top flight and despite the fact that he knows it's only a matter of time before his first mistake, he's trying his best to hold it off as long as possible.
You reach out to touch his arm and he's thankful his layers are so thick that you don't feel him tense up under your grip, "You're gonna do great, Sungchan," you repeat.
His eyes, large, glossy and unreadable, peer down at you as his lips tug up at the corners, "Forza Ferrari, then. Enjoy the race. See you later?"
You don't know what later means; it could mean dinner or it could mean 4 days later in Bahrain, but you nod and send him away, in a manner and motion that you don't even do to your brother. You don't know how to describe your friendship with Sungchan, but he's quickly becoming an important character in your life, which scares you a little.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 05 - SAUDI ARABIA GRAND PRIX
Whenever Mark has a difficult race, he has a routine. He doesn't have these often, thankfully, but you've sussed him out by now.
He finishes the race and thanks his engineers and team- they work so hard despite everything. He composes himself in the garage and accepts he has to do his media duties and he fibs and reassures the world that he's okay and promises to come back stronger the next weekend.
It must be hard to be a previous world champion- everyone expects you to do it again and again no matter how much the world changes around you from the drivers to the cars to the rulebooks to the tracks to the tyres and to the officials.
You know that Mark carries himself with grace through the team meetings after hard races, but then you also know that he holes up in his hotel, orders a bunch of food and goes MIA for that night once he finishes all his obligations. He doesn't need or want anyone to comfort him; he just needs some space and time.
He doesn't like it when someone rubs his back and tells him something was not his fault when it was. He doesn't like it when he's coo'd false promises and he hates it even more when people look at him in pity.
So, you don't exactly know what to do when Sungchan DNF's in his 5th F1 race in his rookie season after a Haas dives into the side of his car and takes out his wings.
You've been tuned in to his feed the past few laps and the heartbreak in his voice was evident when he finally cut through the silence.
"I'm sorry, fuck. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened," his voice isn't altogether clear over the radio, but even still, you could hear the pain.
His engineer buzzes in, "Are you okay, Sungchan?"
"Yeah, yeah. Fuck. I'm sorry."
"You're okay, that's all that matters. We're bringing the car back, just stay there. Virtual safety car is up," his engineer tells him.
It takes at least 5 laps for the safety car period to end and what felt like a lifetime before the car and the driver arrived back at the garage. You couldn't see much of the car by way of every mechanic immediately pouncing on it for repair, but Sungchan loomed over all figures in the room.
He stayed by his team principal and race engineer's side for a while, speaking in hushed tones with eyebrows tugged together. His race suit was gathering at his waist and he was nervously running his hands through his hair.
To divert your attention, you switch back to Mark's race. From P6, he had managed to get himself up to P3 by lap 30 and was less than 2 seconds behind the silver medal position. The Ferrari garage was still locked in, vying for another win for their top driver, so the atmosphere hadn't changed too much.
You had focused so much of your attention on the screen ahead of you, that you didn't even notice when Sungchan came to your side until he taps the plastic of your red over-ear headphones.
"Sungchan, hey," you slip the device off your head, "Are you okay?"
His lips form into a pout, "It fucking sucks. Did you see it?"
You don't nod, but instead give him a tight smile, "It wasn't your fault."
"I could've done more to avoid it. Swerved, or something," he sighs dejectedly, "They're sending me to the media centre. I know Mark's still racing, but can you walk with me? I don't have anyone here with me. Changmin's away this weekend and I don't know what to fucking do-"
"Hey, hey, hey," you reach out to steady him and grab at his forearm, "I'm here with you. Don't worry. I'll come with you."
Sungchan meets your eyes properly and his glassy orbs display his every emotion. He lets out this deep, dreadful sigh from the centre of his chest as he chews at his lips and nods, "Thanks, Y/N. Can you wait here? I'm just gonna get changed out of this."
He comes back a few minutes later from his driver's room in the team shirt and matching cap, still not looking all the settled. You keep up with his pace all the way to the media centre, which isn't hard because he's dragging his feet to prolong the journey instead of his usual large strides with his long, long legs.
"What should I say to them?" he murmurs under his breath as the building comes into view. The paddock isn't busy as the race is still ongoing so there's no one coming up to him for any random reason, "I mean, I know what to say but like- Ugh, this is the worst."
You swallow hard and turn your brain onto PR manager mode, "Just try and look calm, okay? Just tell them it was a tricky situation, but that's what happens in racing. Just tell them you'll come back stronger next time. They just wanna make sure you're okay too."
Sungchan's lips are seconds away from bleeding by the way he's tugging at them with his teeth and even now, he's avoiding any eye contact with you or anybody else you pass for that matter. Just as you reach the building, you pause in your tracks to try give him a pep talk.
"Sungchan I know it sucked, but you're gonna be okay, yeah? You're an amazing, amazing driver and this was just a small mistake and accident that wasn't even your fault for the most part," you attempt to reassure him, "You're not gonna lose your seat over this and the team adore you and know that this is just something that happens. You've been doing so great the past 4 races and it's so early in the season. You've already proven yourself to the tifosi who love you and the racing world adore you too. It's gonna be okay, Sungchan. I promise."
Sungchan listens to you with an unreadable expression which melts softly as your words come to a close. By the door of the media centre, he unexpectedly pulls you in for a hug.
"Thanks, Y/N," he pulls away before you even react, "I'm so grateful you're here."
"Anytime, Sungchan."
꒰🏎️꒱
BREAK BETWEEN ROUND 05 AND 06
Your brother is eyeing you suspiciously from the couch perpendicular to the one you were sat cris-cross on. He was all squinted stares and furrowed eyebrows too as he periodically looks between the TV and then back at you.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you huff in annoyance as you finally speak up on his 15th head turn, "Just watch the goddamn movie."
Mark decided a few hours ago that he was gonna dedicate the whole day to watching Spider-Man films, but he wasn't watching them in any particular order. You don't really know how it makes sense to watch The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and then Spider-Man: Far From Home and then Spider-Man 3, but whatever makes him happy during the break, you guess.
It's nearing dinner time, which means one thing: Lee Donghyuck is probably around the corner, just himself and his spare key to the apartment ready to devour whatever Mark plans to order in. You're not really sure why they don't live together, but you've already claimed the second room in the apartment so it's too late now.
"You keep smiling at your phone," Mark says observantly, suspiciously, "And you're wearing like, real clothes."
"God forbid your sister is happy," you grumble at his insinuation, "Am I not allowed to smile?"
"Yeah, but, like, you never smile," Mark says this like it's the most obvious thing, "Are you watching funny TikToks? Send them to me!"
Your brother is so unserious, it hurts. No one would think he's a multiple-time F1 champion.
"I'm going out for dinner," you finally tell him, your voice as steady as you can make it.
Mark's interest piques with this as he sits up straight and pauses the film, "What? With who? You don't know anyone in Monte Carlo."
"You're actually horrible. You don't think I can make friends?" you throw the pillow in your lap at him, which he dodges with his quick reflexes.
"Well, yeah. So who?" he presses on.
"It doesn't matter," you whine, regretting even telling him instead of just walking out.
"As your older brother, I'd say that it actually does matter. What if you're meeting a serial killer? Or a stalker? Or an undercover pap or journalist who's gonna infiltrate our family? Someone with bad intentions?" Mark begins to show signs of distress as he stands up and paces back and forth in front of you, "Did you meet them in Monaco? Are they from a rich family? Do they work here? How is this the first I've heard of you meeting someone here?"
Your phone buzzes in the pocket you've hid it in, signifying to you that your company for the evening has stopped driving and is presumably outside. You stand up and collect your bag from the side table, as well as your shoes by the door. You can feel Mark's eyes follow you around the apartment.
"Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going?" Mark calls over in concern. It's kinda fun to wind up your brother like this, but you decide to put him out of his misery.
"I'm going to dinner," you deadpan, unlocking the front door, "Now if you'll excuse me, Sungchan is downstairs."
You shut the door behind you, but not before you hear him exclaim in the most confused tone possible, "Sungchan? My teammate Sungchan?"
Your phone buzzes again when you get in the elevator and you check to see if its from Sungchan, but instead you're faced with capital letters and exclamation marks.
Markie: ARE YOU GUYS DATING?!!!!!!!!!!!
Markie: Y/N WHAT THE FLIPPPPPPPP ANSWER ME
You laugh, shaking your head at your dramatic brother.
Y/N: we're just friends!! you're fun to wind up
Markie: Y/N YOUR CURFEW IS 9:30PM
Y/N: in ur dreams, lol, ur not my mother. i'll be back when i wanna be back
Sungchan is dressed in black from head to toe as he leans against the passenger door on the side of the street. He's watching you exit the building in amusement, his hands in his pocket.
"Hey, Channie," you greet him enthusiastically.
"Your brother says I need to come up after I drop you home," he quirks an eyebrow at you.
"Ha, did he text you?"
Sungchan laughs a little and shakes his head, pointing upwards, "He's watching us."
Horror immediately rushes through your veins as you cock your neck back to see your brother dangling over the balcony with a smirk on his face.
"Mark! Fuck off!" he mirrors the way you flip him off.
"10:30 latest, Jung!" he calls out to your company.
"We're just friends," you shout up at him, "You never gone out for dinner with friends?"
"Not on their first day moving to the city! Why are you the first person he's seeing in Monaco?"
You grumble to Sungchan, "Sorry about him. Should we just leave?"
Sungchan chuckles at your exchange with your brother, moving to open the passenger door for you. It's the same Ferrari you rode in Maranello, so he must have road-tripped it over.
"Bye Mark!" Sungchan bids your brother a goodbye as he jogs around to the driver's side and you can see Mark still watching from the balcony as Sungchan drives you away.
You're still giggling by the first corner and Sungchan eyes you cautiously from his seat, "I know he's your brother, but I don't wanna piss off the first driver on my team. What if he has me kicked off?"
You roll your eyes playfully, "Mark would never do that. He's just joking around."
"I know, I know. Mark's one of the kindest people I've met, but you're still his little sister. The look he gave me when I looked up and realised he was there- oh, chills down my spine!" he exclaimed as he gripped the wheel tighter.
"It's not like we're dating," you state, "I don't know, maybe it's cause I've never really had male friends around him and with our parents so far away, he's trying to take on that protective role."
Sungchan goes quiet, tapping on the steering wheel, "Hm, yeah. I guess."
꒰🏎️꒱
He had previously detailed to you in Maranello that he wasn't exactly a Michelin-started chef, so instead, he took you to a 2 star restaurant whose name you couldn't even begin to pronounce despite the years of French you've taken in school.
Sungchan is sitting across from you, a knife and a fork clutched in his hand tightly.
"Sungchan, I know you said we were gonna go to a pretty fancy restaurant, but I feel severely underdressed," you look down at your pleated trousers and your pink blouse and then at the lady at the table across in a silk dress and gloves.
"Relax, we're cosplaying as mega rich today and they don't dress up that much to go out to dinner," Sungchan tries to reassure you. He's dressed pretty simple too, but not casual enough to have been denied entry at the door.
"Are our wallets cosplaying mega rich too?"
He looks at you pointedly, "Our? I'm paying, of course. And well to be honest, I got a pretty big raise going from reserve slash academy to sitting in the second seat. What else am I gonna splash my money on?"
Your cheeks flush, "If you pay it's gonna feel like a date. We should split."
He smirks subtly and a glint twinkles in his eye, "All the more reason for me to pay then."
Your food comes in small portions, but feels endless in courses. It's interesting to listen to the waiter babble on about the fancy ingredients and the elusive concept, but the dinner is made more special by your company.
Sungchan is simply nice to be with. He has wit- joking about the food and never missing a beat to banter with you- and he has a lot of charm. You're not really sure how he's never had a girlfriend before, but you know through your brother that their career takes up so much of their time and focus. Sungchan's the kind of guy that every girl would have fawned over in school, the kind of colleague all the ladies in an office would talk about and vie for, but he's here, with you, in one of Monaco's upscale restaurants.
Maybe that's saying something about your relationship with him that you haven't yet accepted has changed.
After dinner (where yes, he did end up paying), he drives the two of you down to the port and you walk shoulder to shoulder under the streetlights and between the twinkles of the yacht lights reflecting off the water.
"Have you driven here before?" you look behind you at the road, which was still busy despite the time. Monaco was truly alive in the evening.
"Mhm, it's on the F2 and F3 calendar so I've done it a good few times. It's a really difficult race if you're not in pole, but I enjoy it," Sungchan reminisces, "I won it last year in F2."
"You just had to add that, didn't you?" you tease him by bumping your shoulder against his.
Sungchan chuckles melodiously, "I don't get to say that about many places to many people. And this year will probably taint my memory and feeling of the race, so gotta enjoy it while I can."
"Hey, you should really back yourself more. You're a good driver; you wouldn't be in a Ferrari seat if you weren't. Who knows- you could repeat it again!" you were chant in a motivating tone.
A soft smile decorates Sungchan's face as he sighs happily, "You know, I really appreciated you telling me you were cheering for me in China. Even if you support me because I'm your brother's teammate and you feel like you have to, it was nice of you to support me. It was kind of hard at the start of the season since no one thought I'd be able to perform well or deliver at all, so your support made me really happy."
Your heart swells, "I cheer for you because you deserve it and I believe in you. Even if at the start, it was because of that, it certainly isn't now. You're such a good person, Sungchan- I'll always support you."
He's trying to hide his blush from you as the breeze pushes the two of you along the harbour, "Even if I beat your brother one day?"
"He's already got some championships," you dismiss casually, "I hope I'm there for your first F1 win."
"Might be a while, so don't hold your breath."
"Sungchan! I just said you have to back yourself," you whine at him and punctuate, "Believe. In. Your. Self."
"Okay, fine. I'll win a race soon, just so I know that you'll be there watching," Sungchan rolls his eyes playfully, "I'll dedicate my win to you."
"Ha! As if."
"What, can't I dedicate a win to a friend?" he says the final word with some kind of disdain that you check his face- all scrunched up and cute.
"Why'd you say it like that?" you prod teasingly.
Sungchan glances quickly at you to find you already looking at him, so he turns away as his ears go red, "Stop!" he whines.
"Stop what?"
"I know I'm being obvious," Sungchan murmurs shyly, "Being friends for now is good, but you know, in the future-"
"In the future, what?"
Sungchan stops in his tracks to stomp his feet adorably, "Y/N, you're doing this on purpose!" his face is heated up like a tomato while you double over in laughter, "Don't make me say it."
"Say what?"
Sungchan huffs and rolls his eyes, refusing to speak and instead grabs your hand to keep the two of you walking despite being the one to stop.
"You're fun to tease, just like my brother," you're still laughing and he's still holding your hand, softly, gently.
"You're a menace," he utters with a smile on his face, "I hate that I like it."
"I like your company too, Sungchan," you giggle, pressing your arm against him, your entwined hands squishing between the two of you, "You're not the only one."
Sungchan looks at you, a content expression on his handsome features, "Good. That's good."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 06 - MIAMI GRAND PRIX
No matter the outcome of the race, there was one sure thing about the Miami Grand Prix since it started running- and that was the fact that Jungkook will always, without fail, host the best party of the entire year that's second to none in your brother's opinion. Mark invited you to come in the previous years, but the Miami GP always fell around the season of deadlines and you weren't sure about partying with people that you haven't met the majority of.
Of course, tonight's going to be packed with strangers too, but you're hoping the occasional familiar face will help you settle in and feel more comfortable. If all else fails, you're sticking with Eunseok's girlfriend.
With another win for your brother in the bag and a slew of interviews later, you were finally clocking off and being chauffeured from the hotel to the dock. You're hoping and praying to the gods that Mark doesn't do anything at the party that would amount to more work for you, such as cleaning up after his messes in the press, but even if he decides to get a little wilder to celebrate his win, he told you that Jungkook's security for the party is absolutely second to none- completely iron clad. There was nothing illegal happening on the boat, of course, but the drivers and their acquaintances deserve a little privacy here and there to act freely.
"No groupies, no fans, no one that can't be trusted," Mark tells you again in the car, "So go crazy. Not that anyone's gonna be paying attention to you, but just in case you get close to any drivers tonight."
You shove his side and he snarls at you, "I didn't even say a name! You can get it on with Mingyu from Mercedes for all I care- well actually, don't do that, but, y'know."
Mark stops his train of thought when you give him a death stare and diverts the topic onto what he thought about the race. You stand off to the side for so many of his interviews, but it's always hard to listen because of all the noise on the track. He's blabbering about the safety car and the situation that happened halfway through the race when Eunseok's girlfriend texts you that they've made it onto the yacht.
"- and I know Donghyuck is my best friend, but I swear he lives to get under my skin on the tract," Marks tuts in annoyance beside you, "Raced wheel-to-wheel with me instead of letting me pass when he was a pit stop behind me anyway. Prick."
"I'm sure he's just vying for entertainment in the midfield. That's just how he is," you hum along, "Who's that driver who retired but was a pain in the ass to everyone for his own entertainment?"
"Oh, Jeonghan? I don't know why McLaren kept him so long. Amazing driver but was always on the verge of a race ban with his penalty points," Mark chuckles in remembrance, "The grid's a bit more calm this year with so many rookies from last season and this season; no one's taking insane risks yet."
"Good. I hate seeing crashes," you counter, "Sungchan was so sad in Saudi Arabia after his crash."
Mark's face contorts into constipation from holding back from teasing you, but it slips his lips as he coos in a high-pitch tone, "Oooo, Sungchan. How was loverboy after the race anyway? I didn't get to see him since we had separate meetings today."
You resist the urge to snap at him and breathe in and out deeply, "I haven't seen him either. I was with you, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Then let's congratulate him properly for his second P4 finish! So insane!" Mark claps happily, doing a little dance in his seat. Because of Sungchan's good performances, they were steadily fighting for the top spot of the Constructor's Championship. You had managed to send Sungchan a congratulatory text, but other than the rushed 'thank you!!' and 'see you soon!:)' he was able to send you because he was whisked away by his team, you hadn't spoken to him.
The car pulls up to the dock and you momentarily marvel at the flashy, jaw-dropping yachts before Mark drags you to the direction of the brightest and loudest boat of the line up.
"C'mon, if we're late they'll actually just leave," Mark murmurs under his breath. It's all sights he's used to so he doesn't realise you're trying to take in the surroundings, but you forgive him for the sole fact that because he was the winner of the race, Jungkook gave him rights to skip the queue of people trying to get on the boat.
Haechan gives the two of you the stink-eye and the bird as he waits for security to get through everyone.
Jungkook is deep in host-duties as you step on the boat following an extensive search. He daps up Mark and congratulates him on the win before turning to you, "Y/N, right? It's good to see you again!"
"Thank you for letting me come. I've heard lots of things about your Miami parties," you greet him pleasantly.
"Mark's been talking about inviting you for years, so I'm glad you could make it. Haven't seen you much in the paddock this season yet," Jungkook cocks his head.
"I'm always hiding in the Ferrari garage. I don't really know anyone to mingle in the paddock with," you tell him.
His face lights up, "Well then tonight is the perfect opportunity to meet the people that frequent the paddock! Mostly drivers, their partners and their entourage on the boat tonight. And if you're single, my party's matchmake'd a good handful of couples," his lid drops into a wink as he smirks.
"Trying to set my sister up right in front of me," Mark sighs in defeat beside you, "We'll see you around, Kook. Have to go find the other Ferrari."
"Tell him that overtake he did on me at Turn 11 was downright dirty, but incredible," Jungkook kisses his teeth as the memory from a few hours earlier surfaces, "I must have missed him coming aboard."
Mark drags you further afield into the boat, thanking everyone briefly that shouted congratulations his way, but he's steadfast on his journey. With such an exclusive guest list, the boat isn't too cramped yet despite being lively in nature so early in the night. You easily find Eunseok and his girlfriend towards the bow of the ship, delighting you to find her waiting with a drink in hand for you.
"Sorry, didn't get the race winner a drink," she says sheepishly at Mark who waves her off, "But congratulations."
Eunseok parrots the same sentiment to your brother.
"Thank you guys and don't worry- there's plenty of time for drinks," he smiles, "Have you guys seen Sungchan?"
You previously told Eunseok's girlfriend that you were hanging out with Sungchan a lot and enjoying his company and her mouth had dropped in shock that she didn't think to put the two of you together despite him driving for Ferrari as he was also Eunseok's best friend on the grid. You'd identified they were close with the stories Sungchan would tell you about his karting days and junior career, but you wanted to wait to see if there was even anything to say to your friend to not make it a big deal.
"He came on with us but I think Taeyong dragged him away. I told him to come back here now," Eunseok flashes his phone at you to their texts. Mark just hums and leaves quickly, saying that he'll come back again later in the night after making sure you'd be okay with the company.
His girlfriend hooks her arm around yours and clinks your drinks together in a cheers, "We're finally having a night out together since we first met. Let's go crazy!"
"I don't know if crazy is the right word. I don't wanna fall off the edge of the boat!" you squawk as you cast your eyes overboard to the steep drop down into the treacherous ocean.
"Please, your loverboy would never let that happen. He won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight regardless," she rolls her eyes playfully and bats at the tassels coming off your dress.
"No, you look so good," you squeeze her arm.
Eunseok scoffs in front of the two of you, "Get a room, geez!"
"Watch your back," you stick your tongue out at him teasingly as his girlfriend giggles beside you.
Eunseok opens his mouth to reply, but then his eye catches on something behind you that makes him smirk.
"Y/N, you're here. Finally," you feel her arm slip away from yours as you hear that familiar, deep and comforting voice behind you through the buzz of the party.
Sungchan is dressed in a full-black outfit complete with a leather jacker over his shoulders, perfectly matching your black dress.
Your arms reach up instinctively around his neck to pull him into a hug, while his hands find home on the exposed skin on the small of your back, setting your nerves on fire in the way they linger there.
"Congratulations on P4 again. You're amazing. I'm so proud of you," you whisper up to his ear.
"Thank you. That really means a lot from you," his voice is soft and appreciative, as he rubs the area cut out from the back of your dress, "And you look so incredible tonight."
You pull away, already knowing your cheeks are red, but his hands stretch and stay clasped around your waist for a beat too long. You don't even question it, not even when he releases one hand, but keeps a hold onto your waist and pulls you by his side.
Eunseok and his girlfriend's eyebrows are raised in amusement when you finally remember their existence, but they don't say anything and just sip their drink instead.
"Where'd you go?" Eunseok asks your companion, who was radiating all his body heat to you even in the gusty Miami breeze.
"Taeyong was introducing me to his team," Sungchan says off-handedly, "What are you guys drinking?"
"Mojitos," you tell him, showing him the cup in your hand and bringing it up to his lip, "Want some?"
Sungchan hums in agreement, capturing your straw with his plump lips, "Mhm, that's good. Let's get more when you finish."
"You two are gross," Eunseok grumbles, but the two of you cock your head in confusion at him. He just bats away at you and turns to his girlfriend, "Babe, let's go mingle and leave these two alone."
His girlfriend agrees instantly, dropping you a not-so-subtle wink as she's whisked away into the crowd. It leaves you alone with Sungchan, him watching the party as you become all too aware of his hand still around your waist.
"Someone's touchy tonight," you murmur softly, not accusatory.
He doesn't let go, but looks down at you with that fond look on his face, "Is that okay?"
Your heart thumps in your chest, "Mhm, yeah."
"Good."
Later on in the night, you found yourself in the lounge inside of the boat where it was lit up by lamps, but people weren't any less drunk. A group was playing card games around you, but you were tucked up against Sungchan's side, trying to sober up a little bit after you both had too many cocktails. There was no reason for Jungkook to have over 20 enticing cocktails on the menu, seriously!
After a bit of dancing once the mega-yacht started sailing and there was no exit until you docked back, you were winding down inside.
"You doing okay?" he whispers down to you after his turn in the game passed.
Your fingers clutched at the fabric of his black button up, leather jacket long gone, "Yeah. I'm comfy, don't worry."
"Tell me if you wanna go get some air, mhm?" he pats your head sweetly. Across the room, on another sprawling couch, Eunseok's girlfriend wiggles her eyebrows at you.
From the outside, it's obvious you and Sungchan are more than friends. There's no denying it, even between the both of you. At least you hoped you were reading the situation right. But you hadn't really tiptoed past that line that cemented being beyond friends- it feels like you're just waiting for the time or moment to come.
There's a commotion and a clash across the room as a door swings open, letting in a a whiff of fresher air and then slams closed.
"Fuck, I'm so drunk. Can I sit down?" your brother, who you definitely forgot existed, stumbles into the room.
"There's no space," Haechan groans, "Sit on the floor."
"Noooo, I need to collapse on this couch right now. Y/N, just sit on your boyfriend's lap," Mark whines impatiently, pointing at the two of you. The whole room practically ceases all noise, everyone turning their head to look at you.
"Mark, I'm gonna throw you overboard," you grit your teeth at him.
Sungchan just laughs deeply beside you as he looks over, "Y/N, it's fine. Your brother looks like he needs to sit down. You mind?"
Hesitantly, you get up from your very comfy position and Sungchan shuffles over to get under you. You make no move to sit, so he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you down onto him, making you giggle nervously.
"Tell me if I'm too heavy," you twist your head to look at him, surprising yourself with the close distance down to his face.
You don't know if your eyes deceive you, but his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a split second before he shakes his head, "You're as light as a feather. Have you seen my muscles?"
You choke back a scoff and swat at him, but he squeezes his arms around your midriff instead to make you laugh.
"Anyway, how are you feeling? Still wasted?" his own words slur ever so slightly as you deny his question.
"Tipsy, but not as bad as earlier," your head still feels heavy on your neck, lolling to one side, but everything seems a bit clearer with every second that passes, "Our first time getting drunk together!"
Sungchan fights back the cheesy smile that threatens to take over once he heard the word 'our' come from your lips. He could definitely get used to that.
"Okay, good. Keep drinking your water, mhm?" he hums, nodding over to the table crowded with cards, cocktail glasses and bottles of beer, sodas and water.
"You're acting like my parent. Even Mark's not this vigilant," you jut your chin over to your brother, who is sprawled on the end of the plush couch, moments away from slipping off but sitting without a care in the world. His eyes are scrunched together tightly, trying to block out the light and you just know he's concentrating on stopping the room from spinning.
"Your brother just won so I guess he can get drunk off his ass. Therefore, I gotta make sure you make it off the boat in one, pretty piece," he humphs behind you.
You twist your body, "He didn't put you on babysitting duty, did he?"
Sungchan chortles, "Of course not. And he doesn't have to. I wanna take care of you."
"Oh," you relax in his hold, "Okay. Thanks Channie."
"You're gonna be at lunch tomorrow, right?" he moves topics quickly, but it doesn't slip past you the way he leans forward so his lips are pretty much pressed and moving against the bare skin of your shoulder.
You freeze in the moment and melt when he murmurs your name against your skin to get your attention again.
"Oh, yeah. With Eunseok and his girlfriend? Of course. Gosh, we've both been so busy this weekend- I had to ask her to tell you all the details," you sigh deeply, "How do we work for the same team and barely see each other sometimes? Well, it's cause you're a big shot formula one driver and I have to be following around my brother and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, which is highly likely at any given moment-"
"Definitely still tipsy. You're so talkative when you're tipsy," he's found out this fact about you over the course of the night, "But it's okay. As long as you'll be there tomorrow."
"Sungchan! Hey!" a face that's distantly familiar appears above you. Lee Taeyong smiles down at the two of you, a bottle in hand, "This must be your girlfriend. I had no idea."
"Girlfriend?" you cock your head at him, "I'm Lee Y/N. Mark's sister." You point at your brother, who is now curled up into a ball as Haechan looms over him, snapping pictures on his phone.
Kim Jungwoo apparates beside his McLaren teammate, swinging an arm around his shoulder, "He's such an idiot. I told him Sungchan had a girl. Nice to meet you officially, Y/N."
You've heard lots of good things about the pair as they're pretty close to your brother, but you had never properly met them until now.
"I'm sorry- I didn't know for sure," Taeyong pouts.
Behind you, Sungchan is tense. You can feel it in the way his grip tightens.
"Huh?"
Your face must have displayed the epitome of confusion as Taeyong looks at you apologetically, "My cousin thought Sungchan was cute and I thought he was single so I dragged him to introduce them at the start of the night. I would have never done that if I knew, Y/N. I don't mean to disrespect you at all. Thanks for introducing my cousin to Theo though, Sungchan. I think she thinks he's even cuter than you!"
Your perplexity only triples as Taeyong goes on and you nervously turn around to your companion who gives you a sheepish look.
"It's alright, guys. We're gonna go outside now, though, if you wanna take my seat," Sungchan taps on your hip to get you to stand up. Wordlessly, but still confused, you follow his command. The two McLaren drivers beam at you as they wave goodbye and you don't even realise that Sungchan is holding your hand all the way to the deck until he stops and separates your hands to brush his through his hair.
"What just happened?" you laugh incredulously, "I am so confused right now. Did I get more drunk? Did I hallucinate that?"
Sungchan's lips tug into a guilty smile, "Taeyong tried to set me up with his cousin. I didn't wanna lead her on or anything so I said I wasn't available. Theo from Haas walked past at that moment so I introduced him instead."
"Oh," your mouth flattens at the idea of Sungchan being set up with someone, but then your heart explodes into butterflies, "Yeah, it probably did look like I was your girlfriend sat on your lap like that."
"Good. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about me again," Sungchan's voice drops low as he leans against the rails of the ship. His eyes are dark, his lids fluttering slowly in his slightly tipsy state.
It's getting windier and colder as the night goes on and the sound of the sea crashing on itself seems to intensify as silence occupies the space between you.
"Sungchan?" you look up at him to find him already staring down at you, something unreadable in his large eyes.
"Yeah?"
"You're not as drunk either now, are you?" you ask quietly.
"Nope. My head's crystal clear, promise," he utters truthfully.
"Okay."
A breeze runs through your figures and you shake at the coolness. Sungchan frowns and pulls you to his body, wrapping you up in a hug, "Shit, let's go find my jacket and find somewhere else inside. You're gonna freeze out here."
Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around him, letting his body heat migrate to you, "Yeah, let's. But for now, you're pretty warm."
Sungchan drops his chin on top of your head, "Then let's stay like this for a bit longer, mhm?"
You pull your head back to meet his eyes, "Sungchan?"
"Yes, Y/N?" he says again, expression fond.
"I heard kissing is a really efficient way to warm up."
Sungchan's face doesn't even display surprise as he smirks cheekily, "Oh really? Maybe we should try that out."
"Yeah, it's really cold."
Even in your heels, you still have to reach up on your tiptoes to meet his face halfway, steadily pressing your lips against his as his hands come up to cup your flushed cheeks.
His lips sets your body ablaze as he moves his mouth slowly, but desperately against yours. You melt into his touch as you deepen the kiss with every beat and the way you feel him yearn against you is so delicious. It feels like you've been waiting for this for so long- because you have- and it's even better than anything you could have conjured up in your imagination as relief floods your body to finally be so close to him.
"Y/N," he practically pleads as you both come up for air.
Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight as you pull him in for another kiss, never wanting this moment to end, "Sungchan, I'm still cold."
"Let me fix that. Can't let my girl be cold," he smiles against your lips.
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 07 - EMILIA-ROMAGNA GRAND PRIX
You've been lucky to attend a few Italian races while your brother's been racing for Ferrari. Other than racing in Canada, they're Mark's favourite races due to the passionate support of the tifosi- the roar of the crowd, the sea of red, the banners and the flags. Monza and Imola are staples in the calendar for your family to attend, so you're already used to cameras on you in the paddock. So far, you've asked to be kept off the screen as much as possible since you were now technically Ferrari staff, but if your family was around, you knew you'd end up on the broadcast for reactions.
Your family arrives only a couple of hours before lights out at Imola, choosing to skip the build-up days to extend their vacation for as long as possible. The calendar was going into a triple-header, so your family was excited to see three races in a span of just over two weeks.
"Is Mark driving you insane yet?" your mother snorts as she settles beside you in the Ferrari garage.
"You know it," you half-joke, knowing she's the one person who'd understand what you're going through, "At least you can relax, eomma."
"I know it's tricky sometimes, but I just wanna make sure that Mark has family around and he can take care of you too," your mother smiles softly. With the way the sport worked, drivers were constantly being sent around the world week on week and it could get isolating from your family sometimes, not being able to be still for a while. You wouldn't have it any other way, really.
"How's Monaco?" your dad asks from your other side. He's got a camera around his neck, ready for sightseeing once he's out of the garage. Your dad's hoping for a Mark victory to be able to capture all the love of the tifosi through his lens.
"I've barely seen any of it. After this race, this next week will probably be the longest I'll have been in the city since I moved there," you tell them honestly, "I've made a couple of friends."
"Friends? Y/N's got a boyfriend!" your elder brother sing-songs from behind you.
If there weren't so many people around, you would have turned around and pounced on Jinhyung.
"Y/N, he's coming to dinner tonight, right?" your dad's tone turns serious.
You groan, "Yes he is, but please do not be embarrassing or try to scare him. You'll probably see him briefly in a second."
"No promises," your dad pulls you into an affectionate side hug, "You'll forever be my little girl, Y/N. And he's the first boyfriend we're ever meeting!"
"Acting like Donghyuck's not practically your son's boyfriend," you jeer at them.
Right on time, you see two figures round the front of the garage. It's a funny picture- your middle brother with his arms slung around the shoulder of your almost-boyfriend despite the height difference. Mark's adorning a smirk, amused at the gravity of the situation, meanwhile Sungchan looks like he's three seconds away from combusting.
He meets your eyes and you try to give him a comforting smile.
"Eomma, appa, hyung, this is Sungchan. My teammate," Mark punctuates his final word, staring at you teasingly.
Sungchan waves nervously, bowing to them in greeting, "Hi! It's nice to finally meet you. I hope you enjoy the race."
"Aren't you so handsome! And tall!" your mother coo's. You're sure they've seen each other in passing before, either at Maranello or the races Sungchan substituted for previously, but it's their first time meeting officially.
You watch fondly as his cheeks tint pink and he begins to fiddle with the material of the fireproofs bunched up around his waist.
"And you've been such a good driver this season. You're very talented- definitely rookie of the year," your father compliments.
"How are you balancing being a Ferrari rookie AND dealing with both of these Lee's?" your eldest brother exclaims, "You deserve an award for that."
"You're the worst one!" you jeer at your brother and then swat away at your family, "Mark and Sungchan have a race to get to!"
You hug your brother good luck with your family following suit and you can sense Sungchan's eyes following you when you pull away from Mark, not knowing whether it was appropriate to approach you in front of your family.
His body relaxes in relief when you open your arms wide for him to slot himself into. You reach up on your toes and stop at his ear, "Good luck, Sungchan. I believe in you."
A hand squeezes at your waist in gratitude, "Thank you. See you after the race, baby."
꒰🏎️꒱
ROUND 08 - MONACO GRAND PRIX
There's a few moments in your life that you can still visualise and feel the nerves and tension of that situation to this day.
The bubbling in your stomach, the way the room and the people in it started to blur, the pounding of your heart against your chest- you were feeling all of it now and to an intensity you didn't even feel before walking the stage for your college graduation, nor walking into the hardest exam of your life.
You can feel your mother's hand in between your own tightly enclasped hands that are resting in your chin in a prayer. Every so often, you bring yourself back to consciousness and remind yourself to breathe.
Coming into Sunday, you were already very, very, very nervous and anxious. It was rare to find your brother qualifying outside of the front row, but some traffic impeding his Q3 flying lap and a set up that just wasn't completely optimised for the day had him in P4 coming into Sunday. Mark was optimistic - he had a good lead in the championship - so he was in a good mood before the race.
The biggest thing that made you nervous wasn't related to your brother - it was the fact Sungchan qualified in P3 ahead of him.
And was running the race with 3 laps to go in P1.
Monaco was one of Sungchan's favourite tracks in the world with the hairpin bends and incredible scenery. It's not a sentiment shared by everyone- it's hard to overtake, whoever qualifies first usually wind, blah, blah, blah. But Monaco remains one of the most prestigious races in all of motorsports and those who can survive and come out on top will go down in the history books.
Sure, the F1 world will say that there was luck involved if this does turn out to be the Ferrari rookie's first F1 win- a crash between P1 of Red Bull's Juyeon and P2 of Mercedes' Yeonjun was how Sungchan found himself leading the grand prix - but it was important to capitalise on what you were dealt with. It would've been so easy for Sungchan to panic and start to make mistakes, but he kept his cool and locked in.
"3 laps to go. Mark is still 4.3 seconds behind. Let's go to the end, Sungchan," his race engineer's voice is shaking over the speaker.
The atmosphere in the garage is nothing like you've ever experienced. Mark winning is just another race to them (not that it's any less exciting) so they have their routines and they know what to do.
Having watched each of Sungchan's races during his rookie season, you knew his first podium, let alone his first win, was just a matter of time, but to do it in Monaco? Only 8 races in? When the whole motorsports world was doubting him coming into the season? That was impressive.
"C'mon," you grit your teeth together and plea under your breath, eyes glued to the screens in the garage, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."
On the other side of you, Sungchan's mother crumples herself even deeper into Sungchan's father's chest. His brother is rubbing his hands together frantically in prayer. If there was a race to win for Sungchan, it was probably this one.
"Last lap, Sungchan. Give it everything," his engineer encourages softly as the car passes the starting grid for his final lap.
He makes the first turn gracefully and charges down the Beau Rivage. Behind him, the red of Mark's car appears in the distance, but he sweeps past Casino and reaches the part where your breath hitches and your heart stops beating. It's so terrifying watching the car come to such a slow speed all of a sudden as he whips the car around the hairpin of turn 6.
There's too many cars in the tunnel for you to let out your breath, but thankfully, they all move over expertly as they get lapped. You see the nerves getting to Sungchan as he grips his wheel even tighter trying to focus through the Nouvelle Chicane, but you blink and he's already at the Swimming Pool, moving at a blistering speed.
"Oh my God," Sungchan's mother starts crying the very second that Sungchan makes it safely past the very last turn and there's only a few seconds before he's barrelling through the finish line as winner of the 2025 Monaco Grand Prix.
You don't know what happens after. There was a lot of hugs from everyone around you. Then your brother points out that you're crying- even as much as you were when Mark won his first F1 race all of those years ago.
His family, who you met a few days ago, sweeps you up in a hug and you're all blabbering incoherently at each other.
Your headphones get knocked about, but they remain on your head long enough to hear his melodious, proud and exhausted screams as his engineer and team principal congratulates him on his win. Sungchan's voice cracks in gratitude over the radio as he thanks the team and all you want to do is pull him into the tightest hug and tell him how proud you are of him.
"Come, let's see them!" one of the Ferarri mechanics beckons over in the general direction.
You let go of his mother's hand, "Tell him I'm proud too!"
His mother gasps and gives you a pointed look, "No! You tell him. You have to come with us."
"I shouldn't. Your family deserves to celebrate this," you say hesitantly, reaching up to swipe your tears away.
His brother drops his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you out of the garage, "You have to come for your brother anyway. The second Sungchan sees you there, he's gonna be so happy. He wants you there."
Your entire body is shaking as you watch from behind the engineers and the mechanics the cars pull into Parc Ferme. Sungchan clambers out of the car and when he stands on top of it and raises his arm in victory, your heart swells in pride.
The team are screaming, hyping him up as he runs over and when he jumps, they receive him with cries and congratulations. As he takes his helmet off, the team part in the middle and usher his family, and you, towards the barrier. You stand back in respect, watching Sungchan cry into his mother's neck and then into his Father's and brother's. When they move aside to reveal you, Sungchan's grin grows even wider.
"Come here," he calls over to you desperately.
In a flash, you're hooking your arms around his neck, being lifted off the ground as he tries to squeeze your body against his as best he could with the metal barrier between you.
"I'm so proud of you, Sungchan. You're an F1 winner. You just won the Monaco Grand Prix! Again!" you sob into him.
His breath is hot on your ear, "You're my lucky charm. Thank you for being by my side, Y/N."
When your feet reach the ground again and you pull away, you're taken by surprise when Sungchan's glove-covered hands come up to your cheek and then his mouth presses against yours faithfully. Your lips move against his in the cacophony of the Ferrari team's whistles and yelps, as well as the cheering of the supporters in the stands and presumably, of the millions of people at home watching.
The world quickly drowns out around you and all you can focus on is the sweet taste of him on your lips and the way his being and his soul envelops you in this blanket of warmth and light. And you know in that moment that you could do this forever.
a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3
⁂ when a girl who just can't be tied down meets a boy who wears his heart on his sleeve, they’re both in for a hell of a ride!
pairing: non-idol! sungchan x fem! reader
genre: smau + some written parts, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, pining, fluff, angst, humor, slice of life, friendship hehe
featuring: fem! oc's, ot7 riize
warnings: ignore timestamps, women in male dominated fields, swearing, slight mental health talk (related to yn's job), kys/kms jokes, gay jokes!, food mentions, idk what else to say other than my humor (more to be added)
status: ongoing - no set upload schedule atm
taglist: open! comment to be added
disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only and does not represent those mentioned in real life!
⁂ PROFILES - ✨sanriHOES💘 | big DAWGS 💯🔥
⁂ ONE - SEIZE HIM
⁂ TWO - my ladies 4ever
⁂ THREE - lord have mercy (written)
⁂ FOUR - big dick contest (written)
⁂ FIVE - goodnight
⁂ SIX - HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES
⁂ SEVEN - about you (written)
⁂ EIGHT - go sohee!
⁂ NINE - dream cafe corporate
⁂ TEN - bro code
⁂ ELEVEN - sweet (written)
⁂ TWELVE - fuck me i guess
⁂ THIRTEEN - touch grass
⁂ FOURTEEN - so i ponder
⁂ FIFTEEN - baka life
⁂ SIXTEEN - come back
⁂ SEVENTEEN - 7 boys 1 bed
⁂ EIGHTEEN - we'll be okay
⁂ NINETEEN - shotaro is frowning.
⁂ TWENTY - whole house mad
⁂ TWENTY ONE - what is ami doing
⁂ TWENTY TWO - awaken the beast
⁂ TWENTY THREE - catching crabs (written)
⁂ TWENTY FOUR - kitchen (written)
⁂ TWENTY FIVE - on a mission
⁂ TWENTY SIX - gone girl(s)
⁂ TWENTY SEVEN - you know
⁂ TWENTY EIGHT - warning
⁂ TWENTY NINE - crumbling (written)
⁂ THIRTY - call aespa
⁂ THIRTY ONE - daddy eunseok
more coming soon!
mani's notes: synopsis is not all that great icl but first riize fic ily jung sungchan i promise to finish this one LOL
