#niki lauda rush 2013

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 21

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 1.5k

Previous chapter: You and Niki had a trip out, though you still had doubts in your mind about what James had told you. Niki took it on himself to try and convince you to let them go.

A/N: Sorry

Warnings: Sexism

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You kicked your legs, looked down at your nails and sighed. You glanced at your wristwatch and sighed again. Your fingers fidgeted with your engagement ring as you looked briefly around the kitchen in Niki’s apartment. The Weiner schnitzel dish you had prepared half an hour ago lay on the table. The smell of it now lingered all over the apartment. Some flowers you had placed on the middle of the table drooped. It was a depressing sight to you. 

He said he would be back half an hour ago. 

Another sigh left your lips as you glanced back down at the watch. Shaking your head, you stood up from the counter stool. You grabbed your leather jacket, which hung over your chair's back, and collected your keys. Leaving the apartment, you jumped onto the back of your motorbike, already mapping out in your mind the quickest way to the Ferrari garage.

As you drove, you noticed dark clouds covering the sky. You groaned as the first few spits of rain landed on your face and ran down your skin. You could have turned back now and avoided the larger storm likely to follow, but you were more determined to drag Niki’s ass back home.

As you pulled into the Ferrari’s car pack, the rain picked up and limited your vision field. The garage was covered in mist, and you had to squint to see if you could see anyone.

You pulled your jacket over your head and tried to shield yourself from the downpour of rain as you ran to the garage. Usually, where Niki stayed was empty, so you pulled open the door to the backrooms. You were hit with a wall of warmth. You shrugged your jacket off your shoulders and shook your head to dispel the droplets in your hair. Your steps echoed around the abandoned hallway as you looked into every room to find where Niki had hidden from the rain.

Walking deeper into the garage, you heard men chatting and laughing. It grew louder and louder. The corner of your lips curled as you detected the Austrian accent amongst the Italian ones. You reach the room where you can see the light through the window. When you looked in, you could see the mechanics standing and sitting around sofas, many mugs piled around them. As you peered through the window, you could see Niki standing with one mechanic to the side of the room. 

You grabbed the door handle, ready to open it and pull Niki away when you froze. The door was thin, and the words came through clearly. You could hear what they were all joking about, but the window was small enough that none of them had noticed you. And for a good reason, for what they were talking about made your body freeze like stone. 

“So what’s she like, eh?” the mechanic next to Niki asked as he nudged Niki in his side.

“A good fuck?”

Niki looked to the ground, the faint traces of a blush on his cheeks, and he let out a few chuckles. 

“Well, you know what they say about women like her,” he replied, looking around at the mechanics as they all laughed and nudged each other, gesturing with their arms. 

“You will not keep her around, though? When you’ve learnt all you need from her, you’ll leave the bitch behind. She won’t stay in f1 long after that.”

Niki looked around at the mechanics before speaking, his awkward smile still plastered on his face.

“Maybe,” he paused, “once I win the championship… I won’t need her….”

“Yeah, show her where she belongs!” one guy you couldn’t see added in, and the other men around Niki agreed. 

You shook your head, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. You brought your shaky hand up to your cheek and tried to swipe it away. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, rushing at one hundred miles an hour.

“She’s probably fucking that, Hunt. He can’t keep it in his pants to save his life. It’s what everyone says, even this Mclaren mechanic I was talking to the other day. He said he saw them together, and she was on her knees, if you know what I mean.”

The awkward smile on Niki’s face slipped; a grimace replaced it as his tongue poked against his cheek. He exhaled, looking at the floor. 

You took one step back, then another. Your eyes were still fixed on the window and not where you walked. As you took another step back, a sharp pain shot through your back. You walked into a cabinet, and the screwdriver that had been placed on it clattered onto the ground, the sound making you wince.  

You saw through the window as Niki looked up, and his eyes locked onto yours. 

You turned and ran. 

You could hear him shout after you. You continued to run. As he continued to call, you could hear the door slam open. You continued to run. 

You run out of the building and felt the heavy rain drench you. It was pouring. Your shirt clung to your body, soaked, your jacket remaining in your hand. Your legs carried you forward, eyes latched on your motorbike, which you had parked far away from the building. 

As you charged towards it, you felt a stiff hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you to a halt. 

“Y/n, wait.”

“Let go of me, Niki,” you snapped, refusing to look behind. 

“Not until you listen to me.”

You could feel the moment it fractured. It had been slowly crumbling the moment the first words left Niki’s lips, but at that moment, you felt your heart separated in two. In a messy, bloody explosion in your chest.

“No! You don’t get to say things like that and expect me to listen to you again,” you hissed, turning around and looking at Niki. His curled hair was drenched and stuck to his head. His skin was wet, glimmering in the garage lights. As the rain fell, his suit got darker. He frowned, eyes piercing into you. His hand was still on your wrist, and you felt your arm become numb from the contact. Hating the feeling of his skin touching yours, you wretched your wrist out of his grasp. 

“You don’t understand I-”

“Oh, I understand plenty, Niki. You were using me. God, I should have seen it. Why was I so fucking dumb?” You paused, your chest heaving as all the memories flooded your mind. “Even James saw it! And you lied to me!”

“I didn’t lie,” Niki spat out. His lips curled, and his eyes narrowed as he stepped towards you. 

“Stop fucking lying!!” 

You could feel wetness drip down your cheek, but you were too far gone to tell if it was from the rain or your eyes. 

“Our entire relationship was a lie. Every moment,” you sobbed, your chest heaving as you tried to rub away the tears from your eyes.

“Everything was a lie,” 

Niki’s stare hardened, and a scowl appeared on his face.

“So that’s what you think, then? That I’m a liar?”

“Of course you are! Saying those horrible things about me in there, I can’t- I never thought.”

You looked away and then back to Niki, shaking your head.

“I never thought someone like you could swoop so low. You really are an asshole.”

Niki’s eyebrows raised, and he scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked at you in disdain. 

“You’re so quick to fucking judge me, huh? But that’s not it, is it? You’ve been looking for a way out for a while, ever since James fucking spoke to you. Fucked you as well. You needed a reason to dump me so you could fuck him without guilt.”

You stepped forward towards Niki, feeling the anger surge through you. It burned, scorching through your veins and your heart that lay at the bottom of your chest. Your hand is raised without you thinking about it. Niki stepped forward, looking down at you, only inches apart.

“Slap me.”

You hesitated.

“Go on, do it. If that will make you feel good about everything you’ve done.”

You dropped your hand and shook your head. Taking a step back, your hand tugged at your finger, pulling at your engagement ring. When it slipped off, you threw the ring onto the muddy ground by Niki’s foot. 

“Fuck you, Niki.”

You turned and stormed off towards your bike. Niki doesn’t stop you. You jumped onto the bike, grimacing at the wetness of the seat. You rev the engine and pull out of the parking lot, thinking about what hotel you could stay at for the night. As you got to the entrance, you paused. Your mind is screaming not to do it, but the last piece of your heart is begging. You look behind. 

Niki stood still for a moment, his head looking to the ground. Then Niki kicked the ring laid by his feet; it flew into the air and then scattered into the mud below, sinking into the ground. He shoved his hands into his suit pockets and turned around, walking back into the garage. He doesn’t look back. 

You let out one more sob as you look away and accelerate out of the garage. 

-

TAGLIST: @lieutenantn @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @vverliebte @shadowycollectiveduck @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liadamerondjarin  @daniel-bruhhl  @aedeluca  @trashbin246  @livvyshmiv  @black-mistress-of-evil  @laura-naruto-fan1998  @stilltoomuchafangirl  @hannahbal-the-fannibal  @hungrhay  @hexedeslichts @transias  @jesslove23  @saltysilv  @janine-007  @cat-r @libsybum  @linkpk88  @realmoftheelemental @brxghtlelune @kp9983 @f1yogurt  @antheina  @bear-bone-berries  @i-am-dead-inside-666  @panickinanakin1  @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @xourownsidee @thatakwerdperson

Taglist

Edit: my tags didn't work you guys 😭 now I've fixed them

#niki lauda x reader #niki lauda fanfic #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda #niki lauda rush #niki lauda fic #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda x you #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl

[scuttle-buttle]

I have the epilogue of The Heist queued for Friday at 6 pm EST

#the time has come #see now i told yall i could do it #😂 #scuttle-buttle #the heist #daniel bruhl #niki lauda rush 2013 #rush 2013 #daniel bruhl niki lauda #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda x reader

[lorna-d-m]

In the Driver's Seat

Word Count: 2038

Rated: E for Explicit (Oral sex, m! and fem! receiving, vaginal sex, fluids eating, light bondage)

Author's note: They say there's a first time for everything, so here y'all go! This stemmed from a request by the wonderful @f1yogurt that took me ages to do

Long before the racing season started, Roxanne had a plan. First, she bought a special set of lingerie she knew he would not have the patience to unclasp and untie. She kept the lingerie and everything else she needed tucked away in her suitcase. Then, she waited to choose her moment. Roxanne wanted to surprise Niki, of course, and if she was to turn the tables on him as she planned, he would need to be in the right mood. Energetic enough after the race, cocky enough to think he was in control, but desperate enough to follow along. Finally, Roxanne found the right moment. 

Niki went to dinner with the team, and Roxanne knew from experience it would be a few hours as they discussed strategy and results. In the meantime, Roxanne set her plan in motion. She took a long, luxurious shower. She dressed in the admittedly confusing lingerie and threw the plush hotel robe over her shoulders. Roxanne dimmed the lights, turned on music, and looked around the room. Then, she checked the headboard and the pillows to see their worth. In such a high-dollar hotel, she hoped they were quality.

When Niki arrived, content from a pleasing day, Roxanne sprung the trap. She took off his hat and ruffled his hair at the door, and she unbuttoned his shirt as she led him to the bed. He reached for her robe's tie, but she refocused his hand smoothly. 

“Now Niki, do you remember our long conversation about our interests and curiosities?” Niki lay on the bed, and Roxanne settled her hips above his. She ran a hand over the outline of his cock in his slacks. He grunted, and his hips bucked against her hand. 

He groaned and tipped his head back as she continued to run her hand against him. “Yes, I do, Schatz. Tell me, do you have something planned?” He tried his luck again and tugged on the tie of her robe. She allowed it, and the knot came undone. 

Roxanne shrugged the fluffy white robe from her shoulders and revealed her deep red lingerie. It had three fiddly pieces: a balconette bustier that her breasts threatened to spill from, a garter belt clasped around the narrowest part of her waist, and a thong that left little to the imagination. From the pocket of her robe, she pulled two strands of soft, red rope. 

“Really?” Niki arched his eyebrows as he watched her with curiosity. “If you want to.” He removed his hands from her waist and thighs and offered them to her. 

She took his left hand and carefully began tying it to the headboard. “Mr. Lauda, I know you love a good, quick, fuck,” Roxanne similarly fastened his right hand and inspected her handiwork. Not too tight to irritate him, at least not physically. “This will be anything but that.”

Niki tested the rope’s strength and found it did not budge. He settled into a comfortable position, propped up on the pillows, and grinned. “Please,” he entreated, “continue, Schatz.”

Roxanne lazily stroked him again and again watching him sigh and play tough. She wriggled her hips against him, slowly moved her hand, and leaned down to kiss him. His thigh trembled against her hand, and Roxanne smiled as her lips pulled away from his. 

“Are you too sensitive?” she teased. Niki practically purred under her, and he hissed when she stopped moving her hand. “Is the great Niki Lauda going to come in his pants like a silly little teenager?” 

He jerked to a stop at that. “No,” Niki asserted, his hips raised off the bed to meet her hand. It was hardly a defensible position, excited from his wife in her lingerie above him, but it was Niki’s. “I am not.”

Roxanne unbuckled his belt and worked his pants down, so Niki lifted his hips to assist her. His shirt was still on, albeit unbuttoned, and his pants were only shrugged down to his thighs. However, he felt exposed. She took the opportunity to run her hand affectionately down his chest, touching the hard-earned muscles at rest and the patches of hair. Roxanne leaned down, readjusting her position, and kissed her way down his stomach. He wriggled a little underneath her, so she held him in place as he did to her many times. 

“I know you love your life in the fast lane,” she spread the beads of precum around his swollen head, “but sometimes you need to slow down.” Roxanne maintained eye contact with him to ensure she held his attention as she gave him a wet kitten lick. She made a performance of licking along one of the pulsing veins. Niki cursed, his back arched, and his hands clenched around nothing. 

She licked her palm, saliva pooling in her hand, and she gave him a few long, slow strokes to emphasize her point. Roxanne relished watching his chest as his breath shallowed in pleasure. He muttered curses and praise in the same breath as she continued, twisting her hand every so often when she reached the head. Roxanne continued teasing him for speed and efficiency. 

When Niki settled into the pattern, Roxanne surprised him. She tried to take him into her mouth, inch by inch, as her saliva tried to escape down his length. Her hands gently stroked what she could not yet reach, and she took her time. Since he could not tangle his fingers in her hair, Niki said every single thought that crossed his mind. He praised, he swore, he moaned and groaned. His accent thickened as he tried not to thrust into her mouth, but he lost. Roxanne used one of her hands to hold his hip in place so he could not. 

“Fuck,” he whined. Niki could not keep his hips from bucking when she tried to take him deeper. Roxanne gagged for a moment, fighting her reflex, and he threw his head back on the pillow and arched his back. “You’re right, you’re right Schatz!” 

Hearing the magic words, Roxanne stopped. She caught her breath and felt spit coating her lips and chin, but she could not resist a grin. “That’s all I wanted,” she smirked. 

“Really?” Niki asked incredulously. One of his eyebrows arched up in disbelief, but Roxanne admired the blush dusting his cheeks and his chest, his tousled hair, and the blend of lust and affection in his eyes.  

“It’s all I wanted,” she put enough emphasis on the past tense to worry and excite him, “But now I want something else.”

He laughed, “And what is that? To blindfold me? To tie my feet to the footboard?”

Roxanne smiled appreciatively at that. “Both are good ideas, but no. I want to be in the driver’s seat.” She repositioned her plush hips and thighs, and Niki quickly got the idea of where the driver’s seat was. 

“Don’t forget to buckle up, hm?” Niki attached his lips to her neck as she settled into place. Roxanne pulled the thin lace thong to the side and steadied herself with one hand on the headboard and one hand keeping him in place. Both groaned as she sunk down on him, and Niki worried he would come before she even settled into place. Her head tipped back as she moaned with the burn of the stretch, excited but unprepared for the full length of him. 

“Are you alright?” Although it was her turn to take the wheel, so to speak, Niki knew she normally prepared more than that to take him. “Do you need a moment, do you want my mouth-”

“I’m good,” Roxanne insisted with a pant, “I’m very good.” She felt him flex inside of her already, and she took a moment to adjust to his length and girth. Roxanne distracted him with a joke, knowing he needed a moment as well. “I wonder what the difference is between the driver’s seat and the cockpit.”

“Not much at the moment” he quipped. Niki wanted to rip his hands from the rope and squeeze her hips, smack her ass, and pull her closer. He could not, so he experimentally rolled his hips urging her to move. 

Roxanne pouted and stilled all movement. She wanted to remind him who was in charge. “Aren’t you impatient? Did I not just tell you to slow down?”

“Schatz, I thought once you sat in the driver’s seat you would at least put it in gear.”

At her own pace, Roxanne moved to find a rhythm. His head brushed the spot that brought stars to her eyes, and she angled to hit it again. As much as she wanted to speed up and hit her own climax, she wanted to make Niki suffer. She set a languid pace drawing out every thrust as long as she could. 

“Bitte, Schatz,” Niki panted, a pink flush spreading from his cheeks to his chest. His hands clenched into fists, and he desperately angled his hip to match hers. Her touch was too much and not enough at the same time. 

“See how much better this is? I know you’re a good husband who puts my pleasure first, but some nights I hardly get you to touch you, to feel you, like I do now.” Roxanne swept an errant lock of hair away from his forehead and kissed his cheek. Her hands trailed from his chest to his back, pinching, scratching, and massaging along the way. She knew by the flexing of his cock he was close, but so was she. Who would be first in this race? 

Niki’s gasps turned desperate, so Roxanne slammed hard on the gas. She cupped his balls in her hand and squeezed just enough to put pressure on them. That proved to be the final straw for the world champion. He hid his face in her chest as his white-hot release filled her. His hips stuttered beneath hers as he finished, and Roxanne cradled the back of his head with her hand. She whispered praise in his ear and kissed his forehead. 

“You didn’t come,” Niki rasped, his accent thick. His chest heaved with every breath and sweat trickled down his temple. 

Roxanne sighed, catching her breath, and stilled. “No, I didn’t-”

“Untie me,” he insisted. Niki licked his lips and tugged on the binding. “I do not think you deserve to come after torturing me for so long,” Roxanne smirked, “but I could not have it said that I did not please my wife.”

Roxanne happily untied Niki’s wrists. He rolled and stretched them, none the worse for wear, and used his newfound freedom to pin Roxanne on her back against the decadent bed. His tongue was on her clit and two skilled fingers pressed inside her, stuffing his spend further inside her. Any attempt at words was lost in a whine when Niki pinned her hips in place with his free hand. His tongue laved at her, messy with his release, and his fingers were focused as fucked her with them. 

Her thigh twitched, a tell-tale sign her orgasm was soon, and Niki glanced up at her, grinning wider than he did on the podium. She caught a glimpse of his come mixed with her slick on his tongue and his eyes blown wide with lust. 

“Do you think you deserve to come so soon, Schatz?” When Roxanne didn’t answer, at least with intelligible words, Niki placed a light slap on her thigh. “After what you did to me, do you?”

“Do not forget who begged me to untie him.” Roxanne ran her fingers through his hair and tugged. “Do not forget who whined my name only moments ago.”

Niki admitted with a sly grin, “Point taken.” He resumed the deliberate thrust of his fingers and teasing of his tongue. It did not take long for Roxanne to come undone, writhing and wriggling under the hand that held her down. Niki did not let up until well after she finished, and he rest his head on her thigh.

Roxanne carded her fingers through his hair again, much gentler and more affectionate. She knew she would need to clean herself and leave the bed, but she wanted to enjoy the moment.

taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @hardlyinteresting @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles

#daniel brühl fanfic #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda fanfiction #daniel brühl fanfiction #daniel brühl niki lauda #niki lauda fanfic #sub!niki lauda

[pocketsmusicvideos]

Niki and Marlene Lauda Love Story

#true story #niki lauda vs james hunt #niki lauda rush 2013 #love story #Youtube

[eggbreadboi]

Rest in peace Niki Lauda and happy 10 years to the film Rush ❤️❤️

I wanted to try and design a poster for the film, cause as much as I love a lot of the existing ones, they’re very 2013, and i get pissy about design.

Also listen as i was making this i realized the absolutely genius color grading in this film. “it’s so green/blue” no you don’t understand it enhances the emotional themes of the story and its absolutely perfect.

#Rush 2013 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanart #classic f1 #niki lauda #daniel brühl #movie poster #digital art #digital painting #egg’s art

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

Herr Brühl in his Rush era.

#daniel brühl #rush #niki lauda #baron zemo #laszlo kreizler #2013 #magazine shoot #the hollywood reporter #i just can't with this photo #OBSESSED WITH THIS LOOK #obsessed with this era #obsessed with this man #i mean obviously #all hail #herr brühl

[moodysullie]

Such an iconic way to start and end the main arc of this film.

#both daniel and chris didn't get the recognition they deserve for this #like i have friends who're chris stan but most only talk about The Cabin in the Woods or In the Heart of the Sea when they praise his actin #THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT TOO #while my other friend who's daniel stan had been urging me since day 1 of knowing me had fallen for him and his acting to watch Rush #which i go: #if it's that good then i'm saving for the last #rush 2013 #niki lauda #james hunt #daniel brühl #chris hemsworth #my gifs #daniel brühl gif #danielbrühledit #rush movie #roaming my own queue #because i'm sick and too tired too make a new set #🤒

[profeyandere]

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈 𝐋. ─── ☾ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅

Masterlist || Daniel Brühl Masterlist || Wattpad

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning: Mentions of anxiety attacks, taunts, nervousness, mentions of an accident, mentions of burns, mentions of operations.

Pairing: Niki Lauda x Reader

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

Niki was aware that he had been the most recognized driver of the season, something that he did not doubt at the beginning of the season due to his victory the previous year and his championship title. Many were going to praise him for his superb racing performance, but by 1976, he had been recognized for something other than his superb and slightly careful driving, having stood out among the other competitors for always being mindful of the risks involved each race would carry with it a certain amount of danger, or they could have even named him in various magazines over the months to talk about his rivalry with James, being a topic that was talked about a lot during conferences, or even his way of being so surly with the rest of the participants in the race, being nicknamed in different ways for this. But this time, it was for various reasons that publicists and distinct media tried to get an interview with the well-known Formula 1 driver, and it's not like you'd have to be smart enough to know why. You only had to see Niki, his physique, and the reasons why the man was now being so valued after the competition had ended was summed up by seeing his face. The Austrian knew that he had never been considered the most graceful man on the entire planet, not even in Europe or Austria, but he had enough confidence in himself not to give importance to the comments of his fans, and those who were not so much, and it did not depend in any sense on public opinion; if that had been the case, it is most likely that he would have already gone into depression due to the number of fans of the sport who insulted him for being the rival of another runner or for his very different personality compared to other pilots. The bad thing happened with that happy accident that changed his life so radically, with which he almost lost it due to the great pride that prevented him from withdrawing from the race before the catastrophe happened, merely guided by the desire to shut up James Hunt, and to those who had suggested that he was a coward for simply wanting to cancel the race due to the dire conditions in which the German track was found after the heavy rain that was suffering that first day of August. That same thing caused not only his life to have been hanging by a thread, even the fact that he could have left the good woman who had become his friend and who had accompanied him that day to encourage him in his career helpless, but also all confidence and self-esteem that he had vanished in the same way that the rain did when his car had gone up in flames. The Austrian not only had to deal with an intense recovery for five weeks while hoping to get back on the racetrack, but the shame that he would have to spend the rest of his life while people looked not at him, but at the grafts placed in some areas of his hands that were not so visible but were on his head and a large part of his face; somehow, many likened that transplanted skin to a strange meat mask, as if he were a human raccoon. It was a cruel joke, and Lauda knew that he had to get used to it as soon as possible, even if he wanted the majority of the world's population to focus more on his professional achievements or the masterful way in which he had managed to survive before on something so superficial as his new skin was or his appearance very similar to that of a bald rat; this last similarity, although it relieved the tension of many, further irritated the man in question who had suffered the accident.

He had only longed to silence the mouths of those who had always seen him as a coward, even more so after what happened, but he only received the occasional mockery, the incessant glances of the fans to see what was under his cap, the softer comments from his racing team, and the pity of those closest to him. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and in the great photo session to which he had been invited to be able to cover the latest Formula 1 book where everything that happened during the season would be mentioned, with several unpublished interviews from all the runners of the year with images of their respective cars and analysis of these and various graphics where a view of all the tracks in which they had participated would be offered with the position of each one of the participants, and various extra and curious data that could call the attention of the fans, is where the ineptitude of some of the high positions of the media was most appreciated. "Scheisse," the pilot muttered to himself as he tried to calm down, noticing how his right leg was trembling violently as a result of the nerves he was having at that precise moment, clenching his teeth to the point of thinking that if he exerted a little more pressure between them, it would end up breaking them.

If Niki's mind could already reach unimaginable speeds when he was on the race track while fighting for glory, in moments of nervousness and anxiety that very rarely reached him, it caused his mind to distort any element of reality and begin to imagine the worst possible scenarios. Niki hated with all his soul the anxiety that the accident had caused him. Many advised him to go to a mental health specialist, even if by then psychology was not classified as an exact science even though a part of it was medically and clinically oriented, but he supposed that it was unnecessary because he survived, he didn't understand what trauma the accident that hadn't already affected him could cause him, but when he began to feel his first wave of anxiety hit him after his first post-recovery race, he knew it wasn't going to be a one-shot thing time. The symptoms of the anxiety attacks returned to him suddenly with the discussion between him and the director of the magazine, the latter being the one who constantly insisted that Niki take off the red cap that always accompanied him, whether it was within the circuit of races or during interviews and even in his day to day if he was going to be seen in public. The fact that Lauda revealed his scars, his grafts, was something that everyone longed to see and, if the magazine had those very special images that everyone wanted to see, they were sure that finally someone else would want to buy it just to see because of the morbidity they caused injuries from your accident. That damned cap —Niki thought constantly— that damned accident had been what had destroyed his life, and people only wanted to have something from him because of the disgust or ridicule he could cause in others. In a moment of anger, completely irrational and driven by the stress that the situation had caused him, Niki forcefully grabbed his mythical red cap with small patches from his different sponsors and held it in his hands, being able to see in these the small scars of his operation and light skin graft due to how extreme his injuries had been in some other areas of his body. There were many emotions that he felt at once that finally caused an explosion inside him when, without even letting him think for a second about his actions, he angrily threw his cap towards the door of the small trailer that they had used to want to do some of his makeup. The already discovered areas of the grafts would impact the spectators even more, and they would be noticed as reddish or more reddish than they already were, being the place where he could also dress in what they had chosen for him, among which a suit stood out careers similar to his but not completely identical, while the other garments were rather mundane and unremarkable, darker and less conspicuous.

He saw in himself nothing more than a simple wrinkled raisin with huge teeth. If in itself he had caused laughter among the crowd due to his large incisors that made him look like a rat, being nicknamed "The Rat King" for this very reason, the fact that half of his face was covered by skin from other parts of his body and his head were still slightly wrapped on a few occasions by bandages to keep the area not so irritated by the friction of the cloth against the grafts had caused the laughter to multiply and now it was louder than ever.

"Mr. Lauda," a sweet and calm voice called him, your voice, one of the photographers who had witnessed the entire discussion with remarkable surprise while ignoring her boss's instructions to take pictures of him unsuspectingly while trying to remove his cap. Niki did not want to see anyone, much less someone belonging to the team of that moron who was in charge of that important magazine, even if you had refused to ridicule him like some of those present, "They are waiting for you on the photography set. Well, more like me, who pays me for this, in addition to the lighting equipment, costumes, and makeup." Your shaky voice caught his attention, and when he finally turned his icy blue gaze on you, he could make out how you had an awkward half-smile that might once have amused him, but now it only made him feel strange as he I could make out how you nervously drummed your fingers on the camera that you held in your little hands. He had been received in the same way by other people, making sure that the eyes of his interlocutors always moved away from his irises and focused on other areas of his face; he was embarrassing and intimidating. "Tell your boss to put the photographs where they fit. I'm going to get out of here," he indicated sternly, seeing how your body seemed to stop its involuntary movement once your eyes seemed to rest on it intensely as if you were observing something fascinating or completely out of the ordinary. "What?" Niki didn't know why you didn't answer him, and it wasn't until he noticed that his cap was a few centimeters from your shoe that he was finally able to answer that question he had asked himself a few seconds ago. You were seeing him without a cap, you were witnessing something that he too much prevented the rest of the world from seeing, and that caused a feeling of weakness to run through his body whenever it happened.

Now, the roles had been reversed: You could judge him, and he had to shut up and endure your judgment of him. You witnessed the cold, distant look of the pilot turn to a fearful one, the same one you might see in a small child who has just witnessed the worst thing he could have imagined, or perhaps as a young boy who has just been discovered by his parents having found out that he had done something terrible; in either case, the feeling that Lauda was then transmitting was one of fear.

Your heart could not help but skip a beat because not only had the previous discussion brought the underlying feelings of everyone present to the surface, but you seemed to be one of the first people to have seen the physical state in which he was the driver after the big crash that shocked all fans of the sport; Just by remembering the images that your television had broadcast, you could notice how the hairs on your arm stood on end. There were mixed feelings, and in that caravan, Niki felt cornered and ashamed of having to deal with someone else's opinion, a smirk from another fan, or a derogatory comment from someone who thought he was a class jerk.

You acted in silence. You believed that the words were not necessary because perhaps he would end up misinterpreting them due to his state of nervousness and defense. You carefully bent down to pick up his cap, still holding your big professional camera in your other hand even though it was hanging from your neck by a strap, gently shaking the garment a little to remove any traces of dirt it had caught. As it fell to the ground, you approached the pilot to return it to him, placing it gently on the table in front of him next to your work object, smiling softly and kindly before taking a seat across from him in the old chair that he loved so much you had reused it during the last season; you had already made a mental note of changing it, you even swore you had mentioned it to one of the people in charge of the photo shoots, mainly because your butt was starting to hurt, and you had just sat down, so you did not want to imagine how the Austrian must feel in front of you or any of the other guests who had accepted this little job. By this point, while you were pondering the possibility that you might lose the shape of your ass, Niki had already put her cap back on, keeping her gaze on a different point in the room other than you. "I hope you don't consider leaving us here. He's an idiot, he's like that with everyone," you mentioned, being the first of the two to speak, showing your willingness to have a quiet conversation with him to address the issue that had led him to sit there, trying to run away from the gaze of other people. "If he thinks you have a flaw or something that he might get more people to buy the magazine, he'll do whatever it takes to show it, even if it's personal or makes the celebrity he's dealing with uncomfortable. I think he even once almost hid in the closet of this trailer just to get a picture of a Motocross rider so he could show the tattoo he had of his ex-girlfriend or something similar; when the guy in question found out, he almost sued us, and it didn't surprise me at all when we found out about it." Niki remained silent, watching you now as he tried to figure out the reason why you were still with him there. At that moment you wanted to be a fortune teller to find out what he was thinking or to have the power to disappear because you didn't think you could bear the Austrian's intense gaze for much longer. "I think he also made a pass like that to a woman he modeled for us, but I don't remember exactly what sport she was in," you muttered, trying to find a suitable topic of conversation, even if your mind wasn't quite sharp enough then to choose something in particular to make the tension between them vanish. But honestly, what conversation could arise between a racing driver and a photographer? Unless each other's respective fields were discussed, it was unlikely that anything genuine would come of that encounter. "I'd even swear something similar happened with Hunt, but it was with his shirt, and he didn't have much qualms about taking it off either, honestly," you continued, turning your gaze back to him when you realized how you seemed to have gotten so involved in your world that you hadn't even noticed how you had started to ramble, finally realizing that his intense gaze was for you to shut up and leave him alone. "Sorry."

A sigh escaped from Niki's lips. You felt bad. Why would you say otherwise? You heard your boss ask him on several occasions in an amusing way to remove his cap, in a way that was too nice for what that stubborn man you worked for really was, always getting a slightly uncomfortable but negative response from the pilot as he tried to keep a bit of composure in each of the photographs for which he was modeling until finally, you could distinguish during your short break a loud voice coming from the Austrian that surprised the entire production team. His thick Austrian accent stood out among the quieter English voices engaged in various conversations across the length and breadth of the set, and soon, the two men had found themselves surrounded by all the makeup, lighting, and set equipment as they tried to understand what was happening, barely being able to make out the words of the men who were shouting at the top of their lungs. Everything happened while Niki was talking calmly with your boss, the latter being the one who begged him more and more insistently to take off his cap so he could see his bandages and burns next to his grafts while a couple of your photography colleagues were they approached on the orders of the man who paid you intending to obtain something more than the rigid body of the Austrian as a cover photo; no, your boss wanted more and was eager to get it. In short, the rest did not need to be explained. Niki got pissed off, your boss started yelling at him, and the pilot couldn't find a safer place to be than in the trailer looking for a place to calm down before he got back in his car and got the hell out of there. In an act of empathy? You didn't even know if you could call it that, you placed your hand on the fabric of the shirt that covered your shoulder, gently caressing it while you felt the soft brush of the fabric against your soft skin and lacking the orange hue of your light natural tan. You frowned gently as you tried to stop your hand, it didn't seem to respond to your commands by itself, but you gently held the collar of your shirt so you could show him the graft that you also had, the product of a freak accident that in your time you tormented for having provoked, in some way trying to show him that he was not completely alone in that fight against what others might think or simply to make him see that that situation of anxiety and nervousness, lack of self-esteem and self-confidence, had no to suffer all alone. The look full of surprise from him captivated you.

His opaque blue eyes, barely visible thanks to the bill of his cap, seemed to shine with intensity when they found that part of your shoulder that was paler than the rest, distinguishing the places where the suture had joined a certain part of your healthy skin with the transplanted from another area of his body; That image reminded him of the same marks that he had suffered from seeing every time he looked in the mirror or when he saw his own hands. "It was a few years ago, quite a few to tell the truth," you indicated, smiling softly at him while you made sure of how your image seemed to have blocked him. "I was young and crazy, and I said to myself, why not play kitchen while the beans are cooking? I put my feet up on the little low bars that surrounded the kitchen and tipped over the entire pot of burning beans. They not only affected my shoulder but also my neck and head area a bit." Niki couldn't help but gently tilt her head to the left side, watching you part your hair from the side of your head a little to show him the small skin grafts in those already healed and lightly covered areas. He didn't understand how he hadn't noticed before. "Young?" He asked, being the only word you could hear coming from between his parted lips separated by his largest incisors, watching how he licked his slightly drier upper lip.

"At eighteen years old," you answered, suddenly hearing a strange snort escape from Niki that caused your mouth to open in surprise and indignation as if you were somehow annoyed by the sound she had just emitted. "Don't laugh. I told you she was young!" You heard the snort again, causing you to cross your arms in indignation while one of your eyebrows rose slightly, waiting for him to stop. He would simply settle into his chair and gently adjust the cap on his head, leaning forward as he reached for your camera and began fiddling with it in your hands. "Yes, but I didn't expect an adult to really be as 'crazy' as you mentioned. What went through your head to do something so dangerous and stupid?" Questioned Niki while a smile, finally sincere, appeared on her face, insulting you along the way for free. But, after all, that was Niki. Sincere. "If I told you. I am a very crazy woman, Mr. Lauda. Don't push your luck with me." Soon Niki's caravan was involved in a large number of funny anecdotes and strange laughter that caught the attention of many magazine workers who were waiting impatiently for the pilot to come out.

Marlene, the Austrian pilot's best friend, had gone to the photo session to bring him the yogurts that he had asked for before leaving his house, appearing confused as she did not know where her dear friend was, encountering a strange scene that caused her heart to leap with joy because Niki was smiling and laughing in the same way he had done before the accident, and recognizing your person as the cause of those natural expressions caused a feeling of happiness. They will settle on her chest. She was happy because finally, Niki seemed to have started to love himself as he listened to all your stories about your burn and just had to see through that little round glass how his cap was now resting on the table that separated you while He was chatting animatedly with you. Marlene only hoped that the same person who was now next to the Austrian would understand that his bluish gaze full of curiosity was not just due to a few silly jokes or absurd situations, but because of a much deeper feeling that had to wait to emerge with overtime.

#niki lauda #niki #lauda #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda x you #niki lauda x oc #reader #you #oc #formula1 #formula 1 #f1 #daniel brühl #niki lauda imagines #daniel brühl imagines #rush #rush 2013

[seeunsorange]

James Hunt: I have sex with women and put penis in them and drink the alcohols

Niki Lauda:

#i FINALLY watched rush and i am obsessed with their dynamic #rush #rush 2013 #Niki Lauda #James Hunt #f1

[udonli]

watched rush with @quigzahhutt last night and im so sorry to rindt and brabham and verstappen bcs niki lauda is my new obsession. im in love. ive never brainrotted so hard

#niki lauda #f1 #classic f1 #formula 1 #rush 2013 #daniel brühl #misc

[f1yogurt]

#classic f1 #niki lauda #rush 2013 #rush script

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 19

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 1.2k

Previous chapter: Your first Christmas spent with Niki, the two of you decide to move in together and celebrate Christmas with some fun times

A/N: This took a while for me to write because everything that was coming out I just wasn't happy with. Updates might be rare the next few weeks while work picks up but soon I'll be back at Uni and I'll start focusing on all of my writing again.

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Your legs cramped, complaining about how long you had been sitting in your car. Niki knelt beside the car, running his hand along the exterior. His lips were parted as he listened to you talk, and once you finished, he glanced at you. He pointed to another part of the car and asked what felt like the 100th question.

Exuberantly, you explained to him what parts of the car you had recently modified for the last race. Already there was an improvement in the car's speed, increasing by a few seconds in the race. Niki, of course, had noticed and was evidently curious about what you had done. Explaining what you had done, Niki nodded and listened patiently.

Abruptly, you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise, and an icy shiver ran through your body. In the back of your mind, you knew both you and Niki were being watched. As Niki knelt down further to examine the car's underside, you tossed your head, trying to grasp the eye line of whoever was looking at you. 

Your team, however, were going about their day, barely sparing you two a glance. They had all grown accustomed to seeing Niki around in the garage now. So often, he was there that they joked Niki was an unofficial third member of the team. The Ferrari garage did not appreciate such jokes, especially when it leaked to the press.

When you were about to give up, chalking the feeling to an over-reactive imagination, your eyes locked with James Hunt. He stood at the end of the garage, arms crossed, shaggy blonde hair framing the side of his face while his knee stuck up as he leaned against one of the metal walls.

James was scowling. As you captured his gaze, he didn't look away. The usual James Hunt arrogance shining through. You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. As this staring match continued, nothing occurred to you. Jame's should have no reason to stare at you in such a way; after all, everything between the three of you had been so peaceful this season. Sighing, you place your hands on the side of the car and hurl yourself up. 

"Give me a few minutes, Niki."

Niki peeked at you from where he was analysing the car. He followed your gaze and noticed James. He rose.

"What is he doing here?"

"That's what I am going to find out," you say, walking towards James.

Niki followed behind you, but James, noticing you walking towards him, stretched and took a few steps forward, meeting you halfway. As James looked at Niki, his frown deepened, and it felt like you could see ice-coat his blue eyes.

"What's with the look, asshole?" Niki clamours, raising his chin at James.

"I'd like to talk to you y/n, in private," James says, ignoring Niki's remark.

Niki narrowed his eyes, sucking on his top teeth before hissing the words.

"What matter of discussion requires me not being here?"

"A sensitive one, Niki. So sod off."

Niki looked close to snarling. He took a step forward as his cheeks flushed, but before he could hit James back with an insult, you placed your hand on his chest and stopped him.

"It's not worth getting into an argument, Niki. Just give me a few minutes to talk to him."

"Seriously," Niki snapped, his gaze turning to you in disbelief. 

"You're willing to hear him out after saying he didn't want me around? He is going to talk about me. He's made that clear. Whatever he says will be bullshit."

You glance between Niki and James. You knew Niki was right; whatever James would say, it would be about Niki and likely wasn't nice, but your curiosity was hard to beat.

"Just give me a few minutes, Niki."

Jame's lips twitched into a smug smile while Niki's burning eyes and tensed face glanced between the two of you before storming off. 

"You really know how to rile him up, don't you, James," you say, crossing your arms as you give him a disapproving look.

"I need some fun around here." James jostles, smirking, but as he sees his playfulness isn't making the situation better, his smile slips.

"Come on, y/n, don't tell me being engaged to that man for a month has drained any sense of humour from your mind."

"I still have my sense of humour, James's, but it's not funny seeing Niki upset."

"We're all friends, really. Though Niki seems to detest that word. You know it. It's friends chumming around."

"Is this really what you pulled me away from my work to talk about?"

If James still had any more joyfulness captured on his face, it faded quickly. He glanced to the ground and then back up at you, a solum breath of air leaving his lips. 

"You will not like what I am going to say, y/n."

"Then is there any need to say it?"

"Yes," Jame's stressed, taking a step forward to you.

The seriousness of the tone of Jame's voice and how his face had lost its usual charm shook you more than you thought it would. You'd never seen him so serious before. Not even when he was getting ready to race. 

"Then tell me."

Jame's eyes glance to the car behind you, then capture your eyes again.

"What were you just telling Niki y/n?"

You tilted your head, confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please, just answer me."

"Well... I was just telling him some improvements I made in my car."

James hung his head, letting out another sigh.

"And how long has he been interested in knowing these things y/n?"

Suddenly, like the last puzzle piece fitted into the image, everything made sense.  

"No, James, that's not it."

"You knew what he was like y/n; you saw the way he treated you before. He didn't care. Not until you were winning. He knew you were doing things to the car-"

"What you are suggesting is ridiculous, James! Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

"I was watching him. I'd never seen him so interested in something before. I know Niki y/n; I've known him for a long time; I know what he is like."

"And I know what you are like! I can't believe you are accusing the person you just called a friend of something like that. To lie is one thing, but to fake a whole relationship? You really think Niki would be so heartless to do that simply to win?"

"Of course, I don't want to think that of him y/n, who would? But the evidence is there, and I don't want to see you being hurt by him."

You huff and shake your head at James, taking a step back.

"You don't want to see me hurt? Right, I see what this is."

Jame's eyes widen as he tries to take another step toward you. 

"Wait, y/n, that's not- that wasn't what I meant-"

"Niki and I are very happy, James, though that seems to surprise the entire world. I love him, and he loves me, and I would appreciate it if you didn't ‌meddle in our relationship any further."

You turned your back on James, fists clenched as you stormed off, following the path Niki took. You felt your cheeks burn in anger, your whole body vibrating. But what you hated more was the nagging feeling buried deep in the back of your mind that James had unlocked, the doubt of the relationship within. 

TAGS: @lieutenantn @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @vverliebte @shadowycollectiveduck @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liadamerondjarin @daniel-bruhhl @aedeluca @trashbin246 @livvyshmiv @black-mistress-of-evil @laura-naruto-fan1998 @stilltoomuchafangirl @hannahbal-the-fannibal @hungrhay @hexedeslichts @transias @lilith-blackrose @jesslove23 @saltysilv @janine-007 @jeeperky @cat-r-r @libsybum @linkpk88 @realmoftheelemental @brxghtlelune @kp9983 @shadystarlightgentlemen @f1yogurt @antheina @bear-bone-berries @stuttermaple @i-am-dead-inside-666 @panickinanakin1 @sparkycorleone @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo

#niki lauda fic #niki lauda #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda imagines #niki lauda rush #niki lauda fanfiction #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda rush 2013 #rush 2013 #rush #born to be wild

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 15

WC: 4228     

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: kidnapping, violence, gun and weapon use, language, period typical sexism/misogyny and language, descriptions of blood/injury/physical trauma, brief non-graphic descriptions of hospitalization

A/N: heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey 😬 this is the last chapter, but the epilogue will be out very shortly okay thanks for not hating me too much

Previously on The Heist: After the failure of the auction, you are kidnapped and tortured by Lombardi. Niki and James work tirelessly to rescue you.

🖼

Lights sting behind your eyelids. The puffiness around your eyes has abated enough that you can see. You keep them closed anyway. It’s easier. Harsh wheezing invades the stillness of the air with each breath you take through your parted lips; your nasal passages nearly swollen shut from a well aimed, bone-crunching hit by Lombardi’s goon. Everything hurts. You feel sticky and sweaty and freezing and you imagine that being hit by a train would hurt less.

By this point time has no meaning. You don’t know how many times they have slapped and punched and kicked you, how many times Lombardi’s screams pierced your eardrums and his spittle landed along your bruising skin. Your stomach gurgles. The thought of eating something repulses you, despite going without a meal in who knows how long. 

You were alone. You were scared. You were holding on to the barest hope that Niki was coming. That James was coming. That Lombardi and his men would be caught and punished for their crimes. 

Just when you feel the sting of unshed tears you didn’t even know you had left in you the basement door unlatches. The click echoes in the spacious room. This time you do finally force open your eyes. Entire body tensing, you now wait for the fresh waves of pain to find you once more as Lombardi descends the staircase. With each step it seems like it takes years for him to reach where you are tied up. He stops in front of you.

“Mia bella….” he tuts. Grabbing your jaw he tilts your head from side to side to study your beaten flesh. Lombardi gives a greasy smirk at your whimper, the pain blossoming through you at his harsh movements. “Perhaps you have had enough, yes? I take no pleasure from hurting your pretty face like this.” You blink slowly and focus on your breathing. Lombardi sighs. “You know we could have done so much together. You and I, bella," he frowns, "we could have been a team. Imagine how unstoppable we would have been.” 

“I don’t- I don’t want that, you prick.” You cough and choke around the tightness in your windpipe.

“A shame really.” Lombardi purses his lips under his thick moustache. You can feel the distaste he has towards you from the way he eyes you up and down where you sit covered in dried sweat and blood. You must be pathetic looking. He begins to pace the floor leisurely. “Instead, you choose to trail me like a bitch looking for scraps- or,” he pauses to throw a grin over his shoulder, “maybe I should say you follow your little Austrian like a bitch in heat? Hmm?” Despite the agony in your limbs you can’t help the wince you give at his insult. 

A series of bangs and a commotion of shouts from the upper levels causes you both to halt. “Ah. It seems your fiance has finally decided to join us, mia bella. I was beginning to wonder that he didn’t care for you at all.” Lombardi pulls a gun out of his waistband from beneath his sportcoat. A click sounds as he cocks the weapon. With ease he steps behind you and into your space; the cool metal of the barrel presses to your temple. Lombardi leans over the opposing shoulder, his foul cologne and the scent of cigar enough to invade what remains of your sense of smell; “now the show can really begin.” You swallow back the dryness in your throat. Eyes glued to the stairs, you wait.

______

"Go faster."

Hunt glances at the Austrian where he fidgets in the seat next to him. "I'm going as fast as is safe," he explains. He was already going nearly 20 over the speed limit trying to get to Lombardi’s villa as quickly as possible. Thankfully the country roads offered little traffic or obstacles to slow them.

Niki scoffs; "what? You choose now to be the one that thinks of risk?"

"You don't?" A beat passes in silence before the Austrian grumbles lightly under his breath. James doesn't ask.

Only a few more kilometers separated Niki from you and that Italian bastard. His gun was ready, his switchblade tucked safely into his waist. Hands wring in his lap. The map crinkles under their weight. He wipes the bead of sweat from his brow. Hunt remains calm and collected as he speeds down the road. Niki thinks about how cool and level headed his partner has been, how he’s taken charge when Niki can barely even think clearly enough to walk in a straight line. In the back of his mind he had noticed how James protected him, giving him an outlet away from prying eyes as he lost himself in Lombardi’s place. How he shielded his outburst from the other agents. Niki never anticipated it from everything he knew of the Brit and his reputation, that he would find himself almost tolerant of his playboy of a partner. "Thank you,” he blurts. Even Niki is surprised to hear his own voice as the words tumble from his lips.

James tilts his head a fraction, his eyes roving over Niki's face before facing the road. "What for?"

Niki clears his throat. "At the apartment. With Smith." He doesn't need to go into detail about what he means. He knows Hunt understands him. 

"Sure, yeah. It’s what partners do." Nothing more is said between the two. It doesn’t have to be.

Finally cresting a hill, a large mansion of cream-colored stucco and columns and red tiled roofs appears on the horizon. The closer they get the more details stand out - the neatly trimmed topiaries and bushes, flowers in pinks and yellows and blues, the marble sculptures of goddesses and heroes surrounding the large bubbling fountain out front. If the apartment was luxury then this was positively heaven. 

“How do you want to do this?”

Niki licks his lip. “Split up. Cover more distance this way, have a higher chance of finding her. There will be an increased percentage of risk for us. Lombardi doesn’t want her. He’s using her to get to me. Him hurting her can only get things so far when he needs her as a bargaining chip.” The explanation feels simple and cold, but it's the most he’s sounded like his old self since you were taken.

“You’re sure you want to do this alone?” Niki can almost hear a touch of concern in James' voice.

“Yes.” Neither say anything as the car bounces over the dip in the end of the driveway upon arrival. The team of agents is right behind. 

"Because you don't have to."

A beat passes. “I know," Niki admits, surprised at how much he believes it. "She’s priority. I trust you,” to keep her safe should you get to her first he adds, omitting the full extent of his thoughts. Niki glances at his partner. “But… after we get her back and she’s safe, then-” he sniffs “- maybe I could use some help to catch that bastard.”  

Hunt chuckles. “What? You think I’d let you have all the fun by yourself?”

Niki can’t help the smirk that breaks despite his serious demeanor. “Knowing you? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The second the car is in park Niki and James, as well as the other 5 agents, are getting into position. Three head around back to find a second entrance. James and the remaining jog to get in position outside the main door. But Niki doesn’t follow.

Instead, he ducks down next to one of Lombardi’s sports cars. Quickly he whips out his knife and flips it open. With ease he slams the tip down and into the black rubber of the tire; the puncture hisses as the tube deflates. Just as fast he moves to a second of Lombardi’s vehicles. “Niki! Come on!” James’ whispered voice almost gets lost over the thump of the Austrian yanking the blade out. Niki doesn’t answer and proceeds to puncture a tire on the last car that belongs to the mobster. Finished, he joins the others and draws his gun. 

“The bloody hell was that for?”

“He can’t drive with only 3 tires,” is all Niki says before bursting the heavy wooden door open with his shoulder. 

_________

Shots ring out above you as Lombardi’s gun remains glued to your temple. Despite the terror rushing through your veins you know in your gut that it’s Niki - it has to be. The knowledge gives you a sense of renewed confidence. A huff that’s as close to a laugh as your beaten body can manage breaks from you; the split in your lip reopens as you smile. “I told you he’d come.”

Another crash, this time much closer, rings through the basement, then footsteps. Through blurred vision you see him -

Hunt.

Gun raised and ready, he treads down the stairs. Blood is splattered along his face and shirt, rumpled not unlike his usual carefree style. His movements slow upon seeing your compromised position.

James calculates his next move. On instinct he wants to unload what’s left of his weapon into Lombardi’s greasy skull; the decision is halted by the cocking of a gun directly behind him. He curses himself for not noticing the goon earlier. 

“Put your gun down.”

James hesitates, not wanting to let go of his weapon. When the barrel is pressed harder into your scalp he knows he has to comply, if only for your safety. The henchmen from behind reaches forward to yank the glock from his grip. “Let her go Lombardi. Settle this like men.”

“I must say - it is very nice to finally meet your other companion here, bella.” Foul breath permeates your senses. The mobster lifts his head to address Hunt. “Where is your partner?” 

Hunt ignores his question. “Your fight isn’t with her, you bastard.”

The Italian hums. “No, you are right. I only needed her to get to your little friend upstairs. I know everything is a lie, I know he is not her wealthy lover from the museum in Austria.” Condescending smirk dropping, he adds “whatever agency you are with needs to stay out of my way. I have more power, more connections than you know. Leave him to me; perhaps I give you something to keep quiet while I continue my business. I can give you much more than whoever pays you now.” Lombardi brushes his finger down the side of your swollen cheek. “But I think I will keep her for myself, as recompense for my troubles. She is almost as valuable as the art, yes?” 

James scoffs at his arrogance. “You’re a right bastard if you think we’re going to let you get away with this.” 

“Haven’t I already?”

“Tell that to all your men lying dead upstairs.”

Lombardi shrugs; “they are replaceable. When you have money, finding help is no obstacle. Everyone has a price. Even you. Even mia bella.”

“Niki?”

The weak sound draws James to finally meet your eyes. Bruising and blood covers almost every visible inch of you from where you strain against the ropes. He nods imperceptibly. Even so, your lips twitch upwards in understanding that Niki is safe, that he is here. 

Fighting can still be heard from the ground floor of the villa. Shouts and pops and the sounds of fists punctuate the tense stillness between James, Lombardi, and yourself. Suddenly the gun is removed from your temple. Lombardi makes quick work of your binds, yet you know this is no sign of freedom. It is too easy. Your captor must sense something in the wind. 

Hunt remains stock still with his own captor holding him hostage at gunpoint, watching you like a hawk. Waiting to see what Lombardi does. A hand beneath your arm yanks you from your seated position. Legs wobbling dangerously, you somehow keep on your aching feet. The thought crosses your mind to fight back now that you are free - your body rejects it before you could even hope any attempt at fighting him off. On burning muscles and likely splintered bones you are dragged backwards. This time you are unable to hold back any cries of agony, the hoarse wails bouncing off the walls and piercing your own eardrums like a banshee. 

James is helpless to the sight.

“Take care of him,” Lombardi orders, before he slips out a side door with your limping form in tow. 

________

Niki rushes through a hidden door left ajar, following a heavy English-sounding grunt. He nearly trips in his haste to get down the steep staircase. Reaching the bottom, he catches his breath, lungs burning, just as Hunt lays a final blow to one of Lombardi’s men and leaving him unconscious. A chair in the center garners his attention. Pools of blood and a trail of fresh, bright red foot imprints lead to the far end of the room. “She was here?” Niki’s tone is frantic.

James pulls in a deep breath. “I couldn’t; he had me in a corner, Niki, there was nothing- shit!” Hunt pounds his first into the tiled floor.

“Okay….it’s okay James-” a pause “-a car.”

James’ head flies up to face the other agent. “What?” 

“Listen-” a brief pause lends just enough silence to hear the rumble of an engine “-he has another car. Come!” Niki tosses his hand out to his partner, gripping the Brit’s palm and helping him to his feet. The two sprint along the pathway of bloodied footprints you left behind.

Niki and James arrive in a garage just as a black sedan accelerates out of the enclosure. The Austrian can see the top of your slumped figure in the passenger seat. Without a second of hesitation the agents give chase around the mansion; they know they cannot compete on foot so they head to the car they arrived in. Engine groaning to life, James goes ripping out of the driveway in a cloud of smoke. 

Their car roars after Lombardi’s like a demon possessed. 

James has the accelerator to the floorboard, the engine’s revving louder than the thoughts raging inside Niki’s head. He was so close, he had you mere inches from his grasp. The crimson covered tiles in the villa sent a deadly chill through his spine. Lombardi had hurt you. And because of him. Niki would never forgive himself.

The black sedan was just up ahead. “Get as close as you can!” Niki yelled. True to his English roots James swerved to the opposing lane, bringing up the rear of Lombardi’s vehicle. 

“What's the plan?” Hunt sat up straighter in his seat.

“I don’t know!”

“You- you don’t know? You always have a plan!”

“Then you tell me what you think?” Niki rolls the window down and begins to lift himself out of the speeding contraption, just as he had seen you do after the auction.

“Are you fucking daft? Don’t try to jump!” 

Niki pops his head back just enough to scoff, amused at the suggestion; “what- do you think I’m you?”

“Well you sure as hell are acting like me!”

Turning back, Niki takes aim with his gun. Wind stinging his eyes, he focuses on the target. He fires once, twice. Bullets make contact with the back tire of Lombardi’s sedan. The car swerves violently, crashing into a shallow ditch.

Hunt slams on the brakes; the car has yet to fully stop before Niki has jumped from his perch on the doorframe and is rushing to get you from the wreck. the door creaks open without grace. You sit unconscious. Carefully, the agent lifts you from the vehicle and deposits you on the grassy knoll. Finally he gets a look at you.

Niki swears he feels his heart fail to beat.

Black and blue coats your beautifully delicate skin. Dried blood paints your face, hands, and clothes in shades of brown and scarlet. Stuttering breaths leave you. He drags his palm ever so gently across your cheek; Niki swears that you lean into his warmth. Wildflowers in blues and white grow with abandon around your limp form. It seems ironic to Niki that you are surrounded by a sight so lovely, so like the artwork you adore, especially with how mangled and bloodied you are. 

The rage that consumes him could rival the fires of hell. 

Niki feels too hot, as though he is seeing the world through water, when he shoves past James to get to the Italian. Lombardi’s movements are sluggish. Niki all but rips the door from the car’s hinges as he heaves it open. Fingers clawing at the rumpled man Niki throws him onto the road. Fists fly, the crunch of bone and teeth under his thrashing enough to mute James calling out his name. Rocks dig into the agent’s knees. 

Unsatisfied with the pain blossoming in his knuckles Niki drops Lombardi’s collar, instead reaching for his gun. The mafia boss looks pathetic as he stares down the barrel of Niki’s pistol. Blood is smeared along his cheeks and jaw. Little beads of sweat give way to his nerves - a swallow thick behind his tanned throat. “Please, don’t- I will give her to you, please!” 

Hunt’s cries of “don’t” and “Niki stop” and “we need him alive” fall on deaf ears.

“Niki….don’t.” 

Your words, barely more than a whisper, are enough to part the storm behind his eyes. His eye twitches before darting to meet yours. James holds your weakened body to his, his own pupils full of concern, and dare Niki say fear. The Austrian catches your gaze again.

All it takes is one look. 

Niki knows he could never pull the trigger in the end. Maybe for a split second he could after what this man did to you. But he knows that it’s not who he is. He’s Niki Lauda - the one that has faith in the system, has faith in justice, the one who follows the rules. And in looking at you it isn’t just the rules of his organization or the law itself that triumphs here. It’s the rules of humanity, of doing what is right. 

He lowers the gun. Lombardi, in his pitiful state, dusty and clothes torn, smirks. It doesn’t last long when Niki brings the butt of the weapon down, knocking him out cold. 

_________

Niki paces the floor of the emergency room. His hair is full of knots and tangles from how hard he’s pulled at it, the roots tender. It had been hours and there was no word on you. All his worst fears were realized in those few moments he held you in his arms before the ambulance arrived. You were cold, practically lifeless, near unrecognizable except for the sliver of those unforgettable irises he loved so much. 

“Lauda, Hunt.” It was Garnier. “We need to debrief.”

A flash of anger penetrates him; in the exhaustion of the last two days he has no energy to entertain the emotion. Niki shakes his head, “I’m not leaving until I know if she’s okay.” James simply stands from his seat.

Garnier sighs. “I spoke with the physician before coming to find you. It is a miracle the damage was not worse given what they suspect she endured. She is stable but still unconscious. It may be days before she wakes up, they do expect a full recovery.”

Finally, Niki stops pacing, a modicum of relief flooding his veins. 

His superior leads them down and into an unused exam room. The door closes with a sofft click. Sighing heavily, the Frenchman pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Well.” Another sigh. “The two of you should be given a serious reprimand for this.” He eyes each of the agents. 

Niki steps ahead of James. “I accept full responsibility for the events of our mission, sir.”

“Niki…” James whispers, yet not entirely shocked.

The Austrian and the Frenchman stare at each other for a moment. “That… won’t be necessary, Agent. After some thorough…consideration of the last time we spoke I have realized that you were right. The agency should have supplied you better during the night of the auction - I underestimated exactly how large an operation we were up against. This could have happened to any one of us.”

“It didn’t. It happened because of me. I am the reason she was kidnapped, beaten.” Niki can feel the strain in his throat as he becomes more frustrated at his mistakes.

“You are the reason she is still alive, Lauda. For which I must thank you, she is an old friend of mine and I am glad to see her safe. We have Lombardi, too. The good news is he is singing like a canary. Soon Interpol will know all of his associates and shut down the underground market for good. It was not without its faults but the mission was a success.”

“Respectfully, sir-”

“No. I will not discuss it further, nor will you be facing any repercussions regarding the matter or will I accept any sort of resignation. That being said, I must commend you both.”

Niki and James share a look of confusion. How had they gone from standing in their own graves, to being a technical success, to suddenly being worthy of praise? 

“Sir?” Hunt questions. “I’m not sure we understand.”

Garnier leans on the hospital bed leisurely. “The entirety of this assignment was to shut down the heist, of course. But it was also a test of your skills and character; a lesson. Hunt - you were an impulsive playboy that used your balls more than your brain. Lauda - you could not work well with others. From what I have seen of the debriefs with the team you both stepped up. Glancing at James he explains “thinking logically, using evidence to strategize,” he looks to Niki, “and trusting each other to work as partners. From here on you two will be partners. May god help us….” James snickers while Niki can feel his lips quirk up at the prospect. “Now go, rest. Let us take care of all the paperwork.”

James gives a mock salute as their superior retreats into the hall. 

“Huh.”

“What?”

Niki chuckles and gestures between them. “Now look at us, we were both a pair of hot headed jerks, no agents wanted to work with us. Each thinking the other an asshole. And now we're both partners.”

“And?”  

The Austrian shrugs. “It’s not bad.”

James grins. “No, it’s not bad.”

The fist that isn’t bruised hits lightly at the Brit’s shoulder; “so don’t let me down now. I need you busting my balls.”

“I will Niki, I will. But I intend to enjoy myself away from work first.” James turns to leave the room with a wink. Before he goes he looks at Niki over his shoulder. “I’ll see you in a few days, partner.”

He nods; “you will, partner.”

________

While James was out doing whatever James does for fun, Niki stayed behind. The entire week of his mission recovery he never left the hospital except to shower and find a change of clothes. He was beginning to like the feel of the stiff waiting room chairs, the taste of stale coffee and cafeteria food. But the nurses would not let him go into your room. He could peek inside the window to see your battered body bandaged up, but that was the extent of it. Niki wasn’t sure what to do. He knew he had to find some way to let you know he was there and waiting for you to be okay. So he sends flowers. Everyday a new bouquet. Daisies, peonies, lilies, carnations, tulips. Anything to brighten the room, to make it feel less clinical and sterile.

On the 6th evening you finally woke up. Upon hearing the doctors and staff talk about your condition Niki tried to get in. He needed to see you and not through a window, he needed to feel the touch of your warm skin to know you were alive and safe. Still they refused him. Said they needed to get more information about how you were feeling before they allowed visitors so as to not overwhelm you.

Niki considered playing the fiance card. He knew it was a lie - he knew that you hadn’t met in a museum, that he hadn’t asked you for coffee that day, that he hadn’t asked you to stay. 

So he waited. 

The morning of the 7th day he was roused by a nurse. “Sir?”

Niki wiped the sleep from his eyes, stretching his back from the uncomfortable waiting room chair. “Yes, what is it? Can I see her?”

She looked at him with a pitying smile. “I’m so sorry sir…she won't see you, she is refusing all visitors… but she wants you to know that what happened was not your fault.”

His gut clenches at her words, at your refusal to see him. A stunted breath leaves his chest. As much as he wants to fight your decree, to shake some sense into you, he knows he can’t. He knew that in the end you would part ways. He just hoped, prayed even, that he would get a chance to say goodbye before he left. Wetness clouds his vision. 

“Sir? I think it’s time to go home.”

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @mymagicsuitcase @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @whatawildone @metalbreakfast @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @marchingicenotes7 @mysticalexpertdaze

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#the heist #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda x reader #Niki lauda x you #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #rush 2013 #daniel bruhl niki lauda #Niki lauda au #daniel bruhl fanfiction #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x reader #niki lauda #niki lauda daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle

[lorna-d-m]

Heart Rate

Word count: 863

Rated: M

Author's note: I feel like I've been ignoring my boy Niki, so I wrote this little one-shot. If you've got any Niki requests send them my way! I'd love to write them. And I got the heart rate information from Niki's autobiography.

After returning to racing, Niki and his trainer established a new morning routine. After waking, and dressing, he would eat a sensible breakfast and have a muscle massage. Niki would lie out on a foldable bench or table, whatever was convenient at the time and nearly fall asleep again under Willy’s skillful fingers. Willy insisted on taking his pulse afterward to have a resting baseline for the day, and every time he remarked how much calmer Niki was compared to his fellow drivers. 

The average driver’s pulse would be between 90 and 100 at that time. Niki, focused and collected, would be between 80 and 85. During a race, when other drivers would reach pulse rates of 220 or even 230, in the extreme range with a chance of blackouts, Niki would peak at 190. Perhaps this accounted for his acute awareness, or maybe it meant he was more relaxed than his fellow drivers. In a sport of extreme tension and margins, this difference was notable. 

Being part of his morning routine, Roxanne would go about hers. They ate breakfast together, but while Niki received his massage Roxanne would shower. She would then fix her hair, braiding it as she usually did for races, and dress in something stylish but sensible. Although she was no longer part of a racing retinue, Roxanne accompanied Niki through the paddock as best she could.

Niki watched her as best he could while lying face down. She wore a light blue sundress, and it hugged and curved over her body perfectly. More often she wore jeans if it was chilly or long skirts if hot, so he wondered if the short and tempting skirt was a race day treat. He remembered the British Grand Prix several seasons ago where she tempted him during a red flag with a short skirt. 

Willy tapped his shoulder twice, and Niki sat up and stretched. He presented his arm for Willy to take his morning pulse and continued watching his wife. Roxanne bent over to pick something up, perhaps an errant shoe, and it must have been stuck under something. She tugged at it several times giving Niki more than enough time to spot the white lace underwear she wore. Niki appreciated all parts of his wife, how could he not when she was so wonderful, but Niki carried a particular fondness for her ass. 

The blue dress and the white lace were the perfect entrapment. They made her appear as innocent as a milkmaid when she was far from it. He thought about what she would look like with both his hands on her ass, holding her to him, while she rutted against him. If the race went well perhaps he would know. 

“Strange,” Willy’s brows furrowed together, “95. Have you done anything differently?”

Distracted, it wasn’t until Willy repeated the question and said Niki’s name that he answered. “No, no, nothing different.” He cleared his throat and turned to face Willy. 

“That is unusual for you. Is something troubling you?” Roxanne, who checked the time and for any new messages, glanced up from her phone and pinched her lips in concern. 

“No,” Niki insisted, “nothing of the sort. I feel fine.” 

Willy rested his hands on his hips. “Odd.” He looked Niki over and studied the room trying to find anything that might have caused a change in him. If his pulse was higher before the race, then it could be higher during the race too. The only difference between this morning and yesterday morning was… “Oh.” Roxanne wore jeans the day before, flattering, but not so flattering as the dress she wore that morning. He did not wish to say so directly, so his eyes darted between the two until they pieced it together. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Roxanne scoffed. “I’m here every morning, and it has never raised his pulse like that. Was it the coffee? Are you nervous?”

“To be fair, you’ve never bent over in that dress either,” Niki admitted with a slight smirk. Roxanne gasped in shock and wanted to smack him, playfully of course, but she did not. “It’s true, Schatz. Am I to believe you did not purposely bend over to tease me?”

“Do you think I would do so in front of Willy?” She retorted. 

Niki arched an eyebrow at her, suggesting she has and would do far worse in front of far more people. Roxanne sighed, knowing she did not wish to refute him at this time and she ought to accept the situation. Truthfully, she was flattered that after several years of marriage she could raise her husband’s heart rate so. 

***

Many hours later, after the morning media, the race, the post-race media, debriefing meetings, and dinner, Niki got to do exactly as he dreamed of that morning. He pushed up the short light blue skirt and pulled down the white lace underwear. As he worked a mark onto her neck, he whispered in his wife’s ear, “Your scheme worked.” Roxanne cursed and laughed as she spread her thighs more to accommodate him. 

“I’m simply glad to know I can raise your heart rate more than the prospect of a race…”

taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @hardlyinteresting @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles

#niki lauda rush 2013 #daniel brühl rush #daniel brühl niki lauda #niki lauda fanfic #niki lauda fanfiction #rush 2013 fanfic #daniel brühl fanfiction #daniel brühl fanfic

[amphibiangeorgerussel]

made some movie posters for rush because I was bored :) 

(I know the first one isn’t Niki’s car. ignore it, it’s fine and not at all annoying me)

#rush #rush 2013 #niki lauda #james hunt #my art

[sosooley]

very heterosexual

god bless rush

#rush 2013 #niki lauda #james hunt #rush