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#scuttle-buttle masterlist
scuttle-buttle · 3 years
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Scuttle-Buttle’s Masterlist
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Tags/TW are listed at the beginning of each fic/chapter. All works available on AO3 under @ scuttlebuttle. Sadly I do not own the characters - I just needed a hobby.
If you want to be tagged in anything please let me know!
Ratings:
G - general audiences
T - teen & up
M - mature audiences, 18+
E - explicit, 18+
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Zemo x Plus Size Female Reader
No One But Me
Summary: When you received a call from Sam and Bucky to help them catch the Flag Smashers you didn’t entirely know what to expect. As a lonely PhD student studying the effects of Hydra on shaping modern history, the duo thought you could be useful in finding leads towards the case. What you didn’t know was that a certain incarcerated Baron would be working alongside you stirring up trouble, and in more ways than one. 
                 Rated: E         Word Count: 4.7k 
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Baron on the Run series
Young Folks
Summary: Zemo takes you shopping and you decide it’s time to have a little fun with your Baron. 
                Rated: M          Word Count: 1.3K
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!
Summary: You and Zemo do a little dance.
                Rated: T            Word Count: 1.3k
Aphrodite
Summary: The morning after No One But Me.
Rated: E Word Count: 2.2k
Beard Burn
Summary: A beard is the best disguise.
Rated: M Word Count: ~600
Man Size Meatballs
Summary: QVC is dangerous.
Rated G Word Count: ~600
What Are Those?
Summary: You buy your Baron some new shoes.
Rated: G Word Count: ~500
Summary: Zemo keeps the holsters on.
Don't Let Go
Rated: E Word Count: ~2k
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Niki Lauda (Rush 2013)
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Sleeping With The Enemy masterlist
Pairing: Niki Lauda x fem!OC Catherine Sinclair/Reader
Summary: Catherine Sinclair is the younger, estranged half-sister of renowned F1 driver James Hunt. Things get a bit complicated when she decides to reenter James’ life and ends up meeting his rival - Niki Lauda. Engines ignite as Catherine finds herself caught between her feelings for Niki and the rivalry that the two men share. Will she pump the brakes or let herself crash in the inferno?
Rating: E for smut
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SWTE One Shots Masterlist
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The Heist masterlist
Synopsis: Niki Lauda and James Hunt are complete opposites. With their careers on the line as International Agents for Interpol, the two get paired together to solve the case of a small underground black market art heist. The introduction of an American, a woman no less, into the team only complicates things further as the trio goes undercover. There's more than just art that is at risk of being stolen on this mission. 
Pairing: Niki Lauda x Fem!Reader, some James Hunt x Reader
Rated: E 18+ for eventual smut, language, and violence
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Dr. Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist)
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The Interpretation of Dreams Masterlist
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!Reader
Summary: Modern AU. Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a pretentious ass - that's the only way you could possibly explain the man. That being said, you needed a job to help pay for grad school, and the position of being his TA was the only thing available. You'll suck it up and deal with it, but the last thing you'll do is let this man get inside your head in the process.
Enemies to Lovers
Rated: E for smut & descriptions of trauma
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Psychopathia Sexualis Masterlist
Sequel to The Interpretation of Dreams
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!Reader
Summary: After experiencing a whirlwind enemies-turned-lovers romance with the imposing Professor Laszlo Kreizler, things have been wonderful for you. Your studies are coming along, work is enjoyable, and you are in a stable relationship with the man you believe to be the love of your life. Suddenly,  everything threatens to come crashing down with the arrival of a face from the past. Will jealousy and desire consume you and destroy the love you finally found?
Rated: E for smut & dark themes
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Peri Psyches masterlist
A one shot series to follow The Interpretation of Dreams & Psychopathia Sexualis fics. Oneshots vary in rating, tags will be listed at the beginning of each fic. Also posted to AO3.
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Other Brühl Boys Oneshots & HCs
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Two Stars Miles Apart
Pairing: Andrea Marowski (Ladies in Lavender) x GN reader
Lingonberry Schnapps
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist) x GN reader
Sweater Weather
Pairing: Alex Garel (Eva) x GN reader
Up In Flames
Pairing: AU firefighter Zemo x fem!Reader (smut)
Breakfast in Bed - drabble request
Pairing: Zemo x pregnant wife reader
Promises Kept
Pairing: Dark!Thomas Fischer (My Zoe) x afab!Reader
Ernst Schmidt with a baby - HCs
Modern! Andrea Marowski- HCs
Voyeurism Kink Daniel Weltz - HCs
Brühl Boys & how they would help you on your period Alignment chart
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f1yogurt · 2 years
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Favorite Fics - f1yogurt
A compilation of my favorite fics, I needed a place to keep them all and I will slowly be adding more as I find them. Not in any particular order. Feel free to browse and give some love to these amazing authors!
(I'm not keeping track of which are explicit so Minors DNI 18+)
Daniel Characters
Laszlo Kreizler (imma be honest, all of these are my favorite)
Abandonment Requires Expectation - sub!Laszlo x Reader
go together like horse and carriage - Laszlo x John x Sara (drunk Laszlo is best Laszlo)
The Ripping Case of Ms. Delia Rodwick - sub!Laszlo x Reader
Good Boy - puppy play, sub!Laszlo x Reader
Laszlo Kreizler Headcanons - NSFW
Manuals of Love's Devotion - sub!Laszlo x Reader
Helmut Zemo
Baron Zemo Imagine - sub!Zemo x reader
Niki Lauda
Born to be Wild - Niki x fem!F1 Driver Reader
The Heist - spy!AU, Niki x Reader
Fluff Prompt - on the beach, Niki x Reader
eine ratte und eine maus - Niki x fem!Reader
Andrea Marowski
Throw Me a Bone - sub!Andrea x Reader
Sebastian Zöllner
The Artist and His Muse - mild sub!Sebastian x Reader
Born to Beg - sub!Sebastian x Reader
Best Boy - sub!Sebastian x Reader
WinterBaron
Drossel - trains, Bucky/Zemo on the run, malewife!Zemo vibes
WinterBaron Push! Verse - literally my favorite thing, kind of an AU, omega!Zemo x Alpha!Bucky
The White Wolf is my Alpha - omega!Zemo x Alpha!Bucky
Masterlists
cazzyimagines - Bruhl babe's dream
sub-danny - sub!Danny wowow
scuttle-buttle - so much goodness
rumblelibrary - lots of Niki and Laszlo!
mypoisonedvine - lots of characters beyond Danny too
dreaminrubies - assorted gems
kadeuuijib -sub!Danny
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dragon-kazansky · 3 years
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Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
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AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
I am once again apologising for what you're about to go through.
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 10
You wipe down the counter. It was quiet today, not many customers. Everyone was at home waiting for the race to begin. Today was the fourth race of the season. If Zemo won today, he would tie with Stark.
Zemo... you hadn't gone back. You hadn't called him, text him, seen him. You had returned to work, telling your boss things had changed. He welcomed you back, but he looked at you with pity sometimes.
He was currently standing in the doorway behind you, watching you. The race would be starting soon, he had the TV set up in his office, hoping you would come watch it with him. He would happily close up shop for this. For you.
You had worked at The Redwing for several years, a loyal worker to him. You would good with the people, you made wonderful coffee, sometimes bringing s cup to his office, and you knew how to make work fun.
You had this amazing opportunity, then something unexpected came out of the blue and ruined it.
You could do so much better than this little job. He wanted that for you. Plus, he was very much aware, just by the way you had been these past few days, that you were utterly in love with his favourite racer.
He saw the images from the last race. That photo of you and Zemo kissing after his win was all over the place.
Behind him, the commentators are talking about Zemo's win. He flashed up on the screen, a replay of his car gliding over the line. The moment Stark lost to him.
You put away some clean cups, stacking them gently by the machine. You liked having a tidy working area. You knew where everything was, getting what you needed for an order was second nature.
You swung a towel over your shoulder and decided to organise the new tea flavours that came in. Cherry blossom tea had just come in, apparently it was nice. As the shop was empty, you could make one. You grabbed a tea bag from the box and put the box back on the shelf. Your boss watches you go about making your drink.
"Are you going to watch the race with me?"
You pick up your mug and look at him, shaking your head softly. He sighs and comes over to you. He doesn't have to say anything as you begin to cry. He hugs you.
"Why didn't you go?"
"What would I have said?"
"Anything. You don't believe he did it, do you?"
You shake your head.
"Then why are you here with me when you can be there with him? I remember the accident, you know. Saw it on TV back then. There is no way Helmut Zemo would sabotage a race like that."
"What was I suppose to do?" You look up at him and watch as he grabs a napkin to hand to you. You wipe your tears gently.
"You were suppose to go. I'm suppose to be seeing you on screen today, supporting him. You're suppose to be there when he wins today," he speaks softly.
"It's too late."
"You could still go down there. You'll miss the race, but you'll be there."
You shake your head.
"He told me, he said if I still loved him I should be there at the race. If I don't go, he'll leave me alone. I think this is best."
"Now look here, you're a darling and I adore you, but my God, you're a silly liar. You're so in love with him it hurts. You're just torturing yourself by being here."
You wipe at your eyes gently, sipping the tea. It was nice. Zemo would like it.
You sigh and put the cup down.
"You go watch the race. Just... let me knows if he wins."
He looks at you with those pity filled eyes again. When you don't say any more, he leaves, heading back into the office. He keeps the door open a crack.
You stand there. No customers in sight. You feel absolutely awful.
Zemo sits outside by his car. Sam, Bucky, and Sam's sister Sarah, were all there with him. Zemo hadn't said a word to them since he arrived. Bucky had tried to talk to him about what happened, but he didn't get a response.
You weren't here. You didn't come.
He still held onto hope you would make a last minute appearance, that maybe you were right outside, but you weren't. He knew deep down you weren't coming.
You were afraid. He couldn't blame you, but he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would believe him. Still, he should have expected this.
Sam and Bucky glance at each other.
"Just leave him be. He'll focus up for the race," Sam said, glancing at Zemo.
Bucky looked across the way.
Stark and his little witch were smooching for the cameras. Behind them, Pepper Potts. Bucky never understood how Pepper could deal with Tony. After everything.
"I'll kill him."
"Bucky, don't."
Sarah pulls Bucky back and tried to get him to calm down. Sam, watches Stark for a lite while longer. He felt sick to the stomach just looking at them.
The racers were called to the line.
You finished up the last if the tea and put the cup to the side. You would take it up to the kitchen shortly. You refilled the water tank and reorganised the spoons for the third time that morning.
The door opened. A young woman enters, a man and two children behind her. You put on your hospitality smile and turn to her.
"Welcome, are you sitting in with us or taking out today?"
The woman smiles, though a lite awkwardly.
"Actually, I am looking for Y/N," she says softly. Her accent, it sounded so much like his.
"That would be me, what I can I do for you?"
She glances at the man she came in with, who nods at her. Licking her lip quickly, she turns back to you and speaks.
"My name is Wanda Maximoff, six years ago my brother died in a horrible accident. I know you have been made aware of this incident. I came here to tell you that I testified about what happened, but no one believed me. They took Stark's word against mine. Helmut Zemo did not kill my brother."
You stare at her.
"You're probably wondering how I know about you and how I come to be here. Stephen Strange is a racer too. Stark had called him a few nights ago. Apparently Zemo had paid him a visit and caused quite a fuss."
"Helmut went to Stark?"
"Yes. Over you. I don't know all the details, only what Strange had told me. I thought it best I come to you and tell you what I know. My brother died in an accident. He was not killed by Zemo."
You hear the low sound of engine revving from the office. The race was about to start.
Wanda watches as you dart into the office quickly. She smiles softly and leaves with her family.
Your boss looks up as you enter. He smiles at you and waves you over. You sit on his desk and watch the TV.
That beautiful purple car appears on screen. You almost want to cry again as you see Zemo sitting there.
You would close your eyes and listen to that sound, even if it is through the television, but you didn't want to look away for a second. That handsome man on the screen, you loved him beyond belief.
Then they were off.
Your breath caught in your throat. You tended up. Your boss placed a hand on your arm, reminding you to breathe. You couldn't. Stark and Zemo were neck on neck. If he won today, he would tie with Stark.
And you would go to him to be there for the final race.
The cars sped around the first corner. You had long since blocked out the commentator. The only sound you could hear was those engines.
Zemo's car glides down the track.
Stark is a hair width away from him. They are so close they could collide any moment, but they don't. Both of them are very skilled and talented drivers. They were born to do this.
They reach the second bend.
You grab your boss's hand, needing something to hold onto. Those two cars are so far ahead from everyone else.
You're filled with anxiety. Everything feels too much.
The third bend.
It all happens so quickly. In the blink of an eye. You're not even sure what had happened.
You weren't even aware you were screaming until your boss had his arms around you. He was so quick to try and tear your gaze away from the screen.
Zemo's car collided into the barrier. It was up in flames. Moments later there was an explosion.
It's just like that day. Six years ago.
You cling to your boss, crying into his shirt. He scrambles with one hand to grab the remote and turn it off.
You had seen enough.
The office fills with your cries. Your agony filled screams are enough to break anyone's heart. What the Hell just happened?
He didn't turn.
He didn't make it around the bend.
And now?
Your boss holds you for a while longer. It's all he can do to help you right now.
At the racetrack, there is chaos. Sam and Bucky were booking it down the sidelines, desperate to reach that corner. Stark zoomed past them going at the speed of light. He would soon cross the finish line and win his third victory, successfully beating Zemo at this point.
Sirens go off in every direction. All ambulances are heading the same way.
An eerie silence falls over the crowd, even after Stark finishes.
Sarah grabs her phone. She has to make a call.
Sam and Bucky manage to reach the wreck. The car is totalled into a burning pit. They can't make heads or tails of what's happening.
And where was Zemo?
This isn't how things were suppose to go.
@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420 @avengersofmischief @breadsquash
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ay0nha · 2 years
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The Race That Launched A Thousand Ships: Part 6/?
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(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his   career requests the help of a mechanic,  Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.  
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~4K
A/N: UPDATED CHAPTER. Still a little rushed, but I don’t want to leave anyone hanging any more! Also, don't fight me, I used some lines from Grey's Anatomy. It's my comfort show. Hope you enjoy! Thank you.
Taglist: @scuttle-buttle @creme-bruhlee @hardlyinteresting @ginger-abreu  @livvyshmiv​ @eater-of-corn @apparrio @whatawildone @greeneyedblondie44 @fictionlandslanddreams​ @lieutenantn @linkpk88
Masterlist - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
"You're nothing more than a grid girl."
I hummed as I continued my work, not bothering to ignore my incessant colleague anymore, "If you're going to insult me, at least sound like you mean it. Try again."
"What do you even know about a car? You're butchering it."
"Oh? You too now?" I didn't bother looking up as I heard another join in, "More the merrier."
"I suggest you watch the way you talk to us."
"Or what?" I questioned with a slightly bored tone, pulling out the parts they had just put in for added instigation. I had decided only moments ago to voice my thoughts as they came after weeks of comments being made just loud enough for me to hear. It was always under the breath, in passing, or to each other within earshot just so I could know how the men I worked with felt with having me in charge this season around. So now, when I was met with a staggering silence, I only pushed further, "Another tip boys, if you're going to threaten someone at least have the decency to follow through.
"Listen here -
"I'm all ears."
"You better watch yourself," He said yet another unoriginal threat, trying to grasp at anything to rattle me. Then he dared to say the one thing that was a guarantee to truly piss me off,  "Niki won't be able to protect you forever."
This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. My back was still turned to them. I  picked up my tools and used the towel from my waistband to clean them,  placing them aside one by one, taking my time counting to ten as an attempt to calm down. I looked up at the ceiling hoping there would be some type of explanation written to as why these men were  are moronic as they were. Stretching my neck slightly on each side, I   turned around to face the so-called hotshots. However, once I got to ten I realized there was only one thing that could be done.
"Fine, can you please help me then?" I pretended dully.
He gave a little scoff, then a look to his friend for reassurance. He rubbed his chin slightly, before throwing up a hand as if saying what the hell, taking a few steps toward me. Before anyone could stop me, or even realize what I was doing, my fist made contact with the man's nose eliciting a satisfying crunch and hiss of pain from me as I  pulled back sharply. The room erupted almost immediately, everyone going to the aid of the man now on the floor in shock.
"You bitch!"
"Get up," I said lowly.
Despite  my calm stature, I was  getting ready to deliver another blow if  needed. The rest could see this  and sprung forward to hold me back just  in case I decided to bolt  forward again. There were about five  different languages going on around  me, but I knew everyone understood  what my intentions were. I didn't  fight the arms that were holding me  back because I was satisfied by  getting at least one hit in. One that  caused the man to stay huddled on  the ground with a small group around  him to help him up.
However, their grips slackened when Niki came storming in shouting, "What is this?"
"She attacked me!"
I  couldn't help but roll my eyes. Everyone  was calm again, using the  silence as a coping mechanism to Niki's anger.  All hands were to   themselves at this point and I had even taken a seat,  waiting for the   long-winded lecture we were probably going to receive  from Niki.   However, the man who I never bothered to learn the name of  was still   recovering from my blow, now stood in front of me with an  accusatory   finger pointed into my chest. Within seconds, like  rapid-fire, we were back at each other's throats. As we  began to squabble again,  Niki became the physical barrier between us as  we spat at each other.  At this point, I'm sure my words weren't coherent  just fueled by months   worth of pent-up anger.
"Enough!"
I could feel the steam coming out through my ears at Niki's words, "I don't need you-
"Go wait outside!" He bellowed, practically pushing me towards the door. I had finally seen his eyes and recognized the fire in them.
As  I walked out he kept the same volume, yelling in German to the   rest of  the people. Although my feet carried me forward I wanted nothing  more  but to run back in there and really let loose. But I knew better. I  was  content that I got my point across one way or another. However, I   hadn't felt done yet as I sat down on the curb, waiting for Niki to come   out. I wanted to leave, but the desire to wait for him exceeded that,   and that in itself infuriated me beyond belief.
It didn't take much longer for Niki to come striding out with the same force as he just had, "What was that!"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," I looked up at him fiercely, but somewhat level-headed. I had almost reveled in the fact he was having this type of reaction.
"Clearly you could not handle that."
"It was under control."
"Under control?" He was now yelling, one hand on his hip while the other gestured violently in the air, "You have broken that man's nose."
"What? " I looked at him, taking in his serious expression, understanding what he wanted me to do, "...You're not asking me to apologize, are you?"
He  gave me a slight look that said yes.  I blew a raspberry at him, which  he didn't appreciate, but there was no way in hell I would   apologize  for my actions.  
"I can't have you-" He stopped for a moment,  looking at my face debating on how to follow, ultimately correcting himself, "Can't have your hands be  indisposed. The  car-
"Right, the car," I almost spat,  getting up to leave   altogether, but Niki grabbed my elbow, forcing me  back to him. But   especially back to finish the conversation.  
He  looked at me for a moment, then let go to look down at my   reddening  hand.  He glanced at me then to the side a couple of times   before  settling, his expression softening briefly as he asked me, "Are you  alright?"
"I want to go home," I pulled my arm back and crossed my arms.
He nodded his head yet again, "Take the rest of the evening off."
"No, home, I want to go back to London."
"Margot-
"No," I seethed, shutting him up, "You don't get to try to understand what it's like to be the only woman on a team full of men." He  was taken aback by my statement, but I only continued, "Men who  think I  can't do what they do. Because I'm a woman, I have to give an   explanation as to why I know these things. Because when you're a woman   you can't just know and God forbid I can do something better than them on my own!" I let out a bitter laugh. Then, pushing his   shoulder slightly I said, "You have to be connected to a man. Don't you   get that?"
He knew better than to answer. I was deliberate with  my words, taking  my time to really flesh out what I wanted to say.  There was zero urge  to cry, yell, or do anything but get my point  across.
"I'm tired, Niki. I'm really  tired. I don't have  the energy to  be shy, to be meek, to explain myself to you or anyone  else. I'm not  going to change the way I speak or hold myself just   because...just-
"Think about it, and I mean really think about it,"  I tapped the side  of my head for emphasis, "If I were a man talking  this way, acting this  way, I would go down in history for being that-  that son of a bitch  that you wish you one day could be. No, you strive to be.  If, if I were a man punching him we'd probably grab a beer in   an hour  and laugh about it. But what do I get? I get reduced to the bitch who got lucky enough to land a sucker punch on him. And, and over the years the story would change to that he let me hit him. He let me. Isn't that just so kind?"
"I will never be the bigger person because I shouldn't be expected to. I stand here doing my job minding my fucking business but I am still approached simply just because. I'm not going   to sugarcoat shit to protect a man's ego. I'm not willing to conform to what you think you want me to be."
It was silent. The only  thing that could be heard was my heavy   breathing and the annoying drip  of some pipe that needed fixing. I held  Niki's eye contact, refusing to  be the first to break. His expression  was blank and neutral which in  turn only pissed me off more. I wasn't  sure what reaction I wanted out  of him, but I wanted something. That fire in his eyes was gone.  
"Are you done?"
"Walk away before I hit you too," I hadn't missed a beat, it was like my mouth had  a mind of its own waiting for the perfect opportunity to say this to  him.
He started to walk away and once he was almost out of sight  so did I.  It hurt me a little that he hadn't chased after me, but it  fueled my  rage even more. I didn't have a destination in mind, I just  wanted to be  anywhere but here. After not making it very far, I heard a  soft hum of a  car pull up next to me. I knew exactly who and what it  was without  looking up. I continued to walk, but then there was nowhere   more for me  to walk. So I watched as Niki leaned over and opened the   passenger  side's car door.
"Get in the car," He spoke calmly, but firmly, "We're going for a drive."
I stared at him and he stared back. He couldn't possibly think I would get into the car after all of that.
"Please."
It  was the first time I had ever heard him say that word. I wanted to   strangle him, but I wanted to be close to him. I was angry, I was angry   at him, I was angry at the situation. I wanted nothing more than to be   away from here. So, before I gave myself a chance to say no, my hand   already reached for the door handle.
I was surprised I hadn't  burned through the car seat with the amount of anger that seeped through  my skin.  I  think he was uncomfortable with my anger. He could handle  it if it was  directed towards him, but when it was an overall upset, he  didn't know  what to do. So, to make it easier for both of us, I leaned  my head  against the window to watch the scenery go by.
He was  tapping on the gear stick as if he were thinking, each tap a new  thought that matched the gear he was in. It was starting to get on  my  nerves, but I knew if I started talking again, I'd start to regret  what  I'd say. So, I channeled my frustration into my own tapping. With  my  non-throbbing hand, I started to tap my knee. It only stopped when  Niki  had stopped it. He had taken my hand in his. He was toying with it  the  same way he toyed with tools when he was thinking. He was always thinking. But it seemed like his thinking had stopped.
He  kept one hand on the steering wheel while the top of his other   wormed  its way under my palm, effectively placing his hand on my knee.   Then  with our fingers slightly entwined, he placed them both onto the  gear  shift, as if he was teaching me how to drive manual. It was only  then I  tore my eyes from the scenery and looked down at our hands  blankly,  not quite registering what was happening. Then, my eyes floated  up to his  arm, until they landed on his side profile.
His eyes were trained  on the road like they always were, surveying   the plain, but he sent me  a fleeting look before repeating his   unanswered question from before,  "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I croaked out a whisper after I  made sure his eyes were back on the road. Looking down at our hands  again, I started to feel   that bubble of anger again. I went to pull my  hand away, but his fingers  flexed up to keep it in place.
"Did  he hurt you?" He glanced at me again, his voice quiet, which was  unlike  him. It was almost as if he was dreading my answer.
"No."
"Good," He secured his grip on my hand before shifting into a different gear.
After  some time passed, I let the weight of my hand completely relax  onto  his, becoming his second skin. We had driven far out into the   countryside and the sun was starting to set. I had no idea where we were   and I wasn't too sure Niki did either. Regardless, the drive   continued.  The winds of the roads acted as a cradle, rocking the   immediate tension  away.
But as life goes, we couldn't just  drive forever. Soon  enough, he pulled up to the hotel to let me out.  This time he let me  pull my hand away, but I had wished he kept it  there. I thought about  staying and keeping it there, but it was time  for this eventful night to  come to an end.
"Margot," He called for me as I stepped out of the car. His accent dripped off of my name like honey.  
"Niki,"  I turned around, looking through his now open window. I said  his name  like a warning, it was his turn to know better than to say  something  he'd regret to me because that would have been the last straw.  
"I know this," He pointed into the car, referencing our drive, "Doesn't solve the problem, but I...I hope it helps alleviate it."
"Goodnight, Niki."
"Goodnight, Margot."
---
"Good morning," Niki announced in a booming voice, gaining the   attention of everyone in the shop. I knew what was coming and I could   feel it in my gut that the once calm atmosphere would never be the same,  "Mr. Wagner is  no longer on our services,  so while we look  for a   replacement, I am  going to need everyone on their  toes."
In a very Niki-like manner, he expected his announcement to be all  and that everyone would follow suit no questions asked. However, this  statement this early in the morning caused a few eyebrows to raise.
"You fired him?" One person spoke up immediately,  "He was the best here!"
"He was a pig," Niki shrugged his crossed arms simply as if solving that man's gripe, "Any other questions?"
"It's because of her isn't it?" Another further insinuated, throwing his thumb back in reference to me, "She's the one who hit him."
"And  you?" Niki said taking a few steps forward, standing tall to  coming almost nose to nose with the man due to his  affront, "What did  you  do to help the situation?"
"What?" He scoffed, taking aback by Niki's response.
"Do you wish I repeat myself?" Niki practically seethed.
"It  was between them,"  Stepping down slightly the man only shrugged   trying  to backtrack before  things really turned sour, "That's all   that I'm  saying."
"Tell me this then," Niki put a finger into the air, it was a trap  for this poor man who was now in the jaws of the predator, "Should I  question your abilities the way you have done to her?"
"Enough, Niki," I interrupted him, getting annoyed by the whole thing, "I don't need you protecting me-
"I'm not," Niki was firm in his response, looking at me with the same firmness,  "You're suspended for the week."
"Niki, come on," The man tried to reason, but Niki's expression was unwavering, "Just suspend Wagner, we actually need him."
"Out," Niki jutted his thumb, already turning his back on the man and facing the rest of us, "Anyone else?"
"You can't go firing people because she came tattling crying to you-
"Out," Niki repeated himself and was ready to say it to whoever else said something next.
"For fuck's sake Niki," I openly complained hoping to diffuse the   situation, but my own anger overtook like a wildfire, "This power is  going to your head-
"Stop talking before you regret it too," Niki warned me slightly.
"May as well add on another week to my suspension," I challenged him,   thinking I was ready for whatever he could throw at me, but I needed to beat him to it "Better yet, I quit."
---
The witching hours were always kind to me. No one else was here because no one else wanted to be here. That's why I was jumping the fence with my toolbox to look over the car hours after people had left and hours before they would arrive. I tried hard to leave the nights events behind. I thought about getting drunk to really forget about them, but I couldn't sit still long enough. I needed to tinker, I needed to fix, I needed to see how those hooligans manhandled my work. I was quiet as I made my way into the garage. The emergency lights were on,  dim enough for me to make out a figure sleeping softly in the corner. I froze slightly, afraid it was a guard or perhaps a dead body, but once the thought passed and I got a closer look it was less than surprising.
Niki's body was slumped, the most relaxed I had seen it in this environment. He must have been exhausted to fall asleep in such  a place in such a vulnerable state. But it wouldn't last long now that I was here, he knew it was coming the moment he decided to stay here. I hit my foot against his, waking him up with a slight jolt. With a sharp intake of breath, he regained consciousness.
"Go home."
"I knew you'd come here," He said groggily, breathing out deeply and warmly, "However, I did not think it would be this late."
"Go. Home."
"Home for me is Austria," He looked at me intently, the dark circles under his eyes prominent in the yellow light. I knew he'd rather be sleeping now, but I also knew sleep couldn't find him with the way we had left things.  "In my hometown, Vienna, my family is famous for one thing, business," He spoke over me effortlessly, knowing I wasn't going to fight any further than I had to, "My grandfather was a businessman, my father, too. So when they heard I wanted to race cars for a living, they had a few things to say. I decided to risk everything."
"Was it worth the reward?"
"Absolutely." He didn't  stutter, but he took a thoughtful pause,  "We're both stuck here...In  this-this world. You of all people know once you enter, you don't truly  leave."
"I can leave whenever I want to."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I-"  I looked at him as if he had the answer. It was repetitive at this   point, the cat and mouse game I was playing with myself. Telling myself that from the start I didn't want to to this, but continuing. I couldn't  even call it an ebb and flow, it was right in my face. I was lying to  everyone around me and lying to myself. I was here with a motive, one  that was clear as day, but one I struggled to even admit out loud, "To  prove a point."
"You say that," He held up his finger  characteristically, his slumber shaken off in an instant as he stood to meet me,"But your point is  getting lost and you're letting these petty comments dictate-
"I don't need a lecture on toughening up," I butt in with my own hand, "Don't worry, I have thick skin."
"Skin is not a very tough armor, Margot," His hand fluttered to find my sore one as he continued, "It is soft and easily broken."
"Seriously, Niki?" I pulled away, crossing my arms to hide my newly bruised hand.
He nodded his head, brushing off my rejection, "Look at what is has made you do. You have forfeited, so now we have both lost."
"How selfish of me..." I mused rhetorically. I was looking at his fully now. He was being sincere. But I was quick to cross my arms, not wanting to accept Niki's vulnerability, "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed.
"I  mean Niki," I started frustrated, "You called me every day,   you've-you've got me back into this, you're holding my hand, then now I get a lecture, what are you doing?"
"This isn't the first  time you've expressed your desire to leave and you've never failed to  take an opportunity to tell me," He noted  smoothly, "You're   intentionally volatile, a liability nightmare, and now  you ask me what I am doing?"
"Any more compliments you want to throw my way?"
"You need to get your priorities straight."
"That's rich coming from the one who thought it would be a good idea on top of all of this to try and kiss me."
"So now you want to talk about that?" Niki retorted, "When it's convenient for you?"
"Maybe I'm not the right risk for the reward you're so desperately looking for."
The air went still. Niki had become apart of the game. But it was hard to tell who played the role of the cat and who played the mouse. There was it point to our argument, I wasn’t even sure what our argument was over. It was just an excuse for us to talk, to be there together occupying the same space. Now, as the air went still between us I took in a deep breath.  Then another. We stared at each other through exhausted eyes. No matter how tired we both were, he was willing to wait me out and I only had so much fortitude left in me. My arms were crossed and my feet were planted, I was practically shaking to keep myself together.
"Margot-
"Give me a minute," I held up my finger to his as went to step forward to fully assess the damage. I did everything I could to keep the tears from falling. I was doing a fantastic job at keeping them at bay as Niki stepped forward.  
"I can't do that," He denied me firmly, with a soft shake of his head.
"Niki, please." My voice broke in desperation.
This time, however, he simply pulled me to him. It was entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something I should not have done. But I could only hold back so much as my arms clung to his body, pulling him to me further.
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cazimagines · 3 years
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Born to be wild - Chapter 5
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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: 1.4k
Author update: I have a lot of important things starting to come up so updates might be a bit slow but I am determined to get one out at least once a week if not more.
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Every time you thought about that day, you felt the anger towards Niki swarm over you again, like a fiery itch in your veins. You couldn’t believe the arrogance of the man who not only rudely gave you advice but said advice being for his own benefit so you wouldn’t crash into him. You had half a mind to swerve directly into him in the next race, but you knew he would just use that to argue how he was right and that you were an inferior driver.
That thought weighed heavy upon your mind throughout the next few races, though. Were you an inferior driver? Was Niki right? That first race where you came 4th was your best position so far. In all these other races, you were lucky to get into the top 10. You wouldn’t even see Niki and James on the track with them being too far ahead of you. Patrick told you not to sweat it, and you will find your speed again, but you couldn’t help but feel depressed about the whole ordeal.
Yet, it made you more determined. You were determined to fix your car to your needs no matter what Niki said about you wrecking the engine. You grew up fixing cars; you certainly knew more than a rich boy who paid his way into F1. You pulled the underside apart, rewired the engine, changed the fuel consumption, chose better tyres, different metal to use on the outer side and slowly, you started to see an improvement in the car.
It was certainly faster, but it still wasn’t enough. You were missing something, something important, which would improve your game massively. Deep down, however, you knew it wasn’t a problem with the car but instead your own driving, which was holding you back.
Things took a turn for the better, however. A silver lining approached you, a ray of sunshine through your gloomy clouds, which turned out it would be the match to start your fire of a legacy. And that came in the form of James Hunt.
You were on your break for the afternoon before the next race tomorrow. You were eating your sandwich when you heard footsteps as he jogged up to you. Seeing him approach your field of vision made you glance away nervously. The last time you had spoken to him was the night of his party. The night where you had become so drunk, you made the rash decision to make out with him. Since then, you hadn’t spoken to him, feeling embarrassed about the whole situation, and you were hoping he wasn’t approaching to bring it up.
Seemingly James understood you didn’t want to speak of it, or he had been so drunk he didn’t even remember as not once did he mention it as he started to talk to you. Instead, he said something else which grabbed your attention.
“Do you want to go out on a ride around the town?” he asks you as he leans on the wall by the side of your table, looking down at you with that classic smirk.
“You...want to take me out on a ride?” you reply, suspicious of his motives.
“It’s a nice place we are at, plus I could show you a few tricks I know about how to handle the cars. It might help you.”
Instantly you perked up, excited to think that you might be able to learn tricks from the F1 master. Quickly putting the rest of your food away, you followed James over to his car, which was over the top representing his personality. Still like the gentleman he apparently was, he opened the side door for you and let you into the car. Then he jumped over his door into the car without even bothering to open it.
Showing off, he made the car shoot down the empty roads as you left the garage, definitely going over the speed limit. Despite all of James’ recklessness, he was a good driver, and as you observed the way he steered the wheel or pushed the gearbox, you began noting down ways he managed to control the car in a way you hadn’t figured out.
James felt your eyes upon him, and he smiled when he noticed what you were doing.
“If you give two tugs to the gearboxes here, it can give you a little boost which is useful if you are neck in neck with someone and you need to get ahead,” he tells you, demonstrating it, and as he says the car shoots forward with a quicker speed for a few seconds.
“I had no idea about that!” you say, feeling gleeful in realising how much you were learning from James.
Continuing down the road, James proceeded to show you more little tricks he had with the car. He talked you through each one and told you how he had managed to figure them out, and eagerly you hung onto his every word. You two didn’t even notice how many hours went by as he drove you around the town, just getting lost in your conversation till the sun slowly started to sink beyond the horizon.
By the time you and James pulled back up at the garage, only a few lights were still on, and the silence was broken by the laughter of the two of you. James jumped out of the car and jogged over to your side to open the door before you could, and jokingly, you gave him a curtsy for thanks. James opened his mouth to say something, but he chose to turn and look behind himself, and instead of words about how he enjoyed this afternoon, a groan left his lips.
“Well, if it isn’t the rat, I had heard they were nocturnal. Truly living up to your name.”
“You are never usually around the garage at this time, James. Are you planning on sabotaging my car?” the familiar Austrian accent rang out.
“I was just showing y/n a few tricks I have picked up over the years.”
James now moved out of the way, and Niki was brought to the awareness of your presence. He was holding a suitcase in his hand, but after seeing you, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a displeased look which in turn pulled a frown onto your lips.
“Now it all makes sense. Do you think it’s a smart choice to show the opposition, though I doubt your tricks are worth much”
“Yes, yes, go and be the condescending twat that you usually are. You can’t seem to comprehend the thought of being nice and helping someone,” you mutter, moving forward to stand by James, copying Niki’s movement by crossing your arms.
Niki just scoffed, however, and rolled his eyes, “I heard what happened at the party. This seems to be more than just being nice and helping someone.”
You felt a blush spring on your cheeks as the words left his mouth. Your mouth hung open in shock, your eyes wide. You knew people would likely talk about you and James drunkenly kissing, but the fact that someone like Niki even knew made embarrassment course through you. How would you ever prove yourself if people thought you were just trying to get with an F1 driver?
“Leave her alone, Niki,” James said, stepping forward, and Niki instantly took a step back, uncrossing his arms to raise his hands defensively.
“I was only saying what I had heard, what everyone is talking about.”
Niki, deciding it was best to leave before James forced him, started to walk away from the two of you. James muttered, “come on”, and started walking in the opposite direction, but you had to say one more thing to Niki.
“Why are you always being so rude to me? Simply for one mistake?” you yell at his disappearing figure. You weren’t sure if he would bother to turn around and dignify you with a reply; after all, to him, you were just an idiot, but he did.
“Do you think if you were a guy, James would have taken you out today? I treat you and everyone else here like an asshole. They all treat you like something special so they can get their dick wet. I would have thought you wanted people to treat you the same as everyone else, but it seems like you enjoy the special attention.”
Niki’s eyes flicker back to Jame, who had turned around and was glaring at him.
“Now run along; your toy for the evening is waiting.”
TAGS: @lieutenantn @greeneyeblondie44 @lorna-d-m @cable-kenobi @zemosimp05 @edencherries @hofficoffi @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @vverliebt @shadowycollectiveduck @alindeluce @scuttle-buttle @handmaiden-of-mischief @rumblelibrary @nyx2021 @fictionlandslanddreams @darksxder @liadamerondjarin @daniel-bruhhl @aedeluca @trashbin2 @livvyshmiv @nymphalbee @black-mistress-of-evil @laura-naruto-fan1998 @danielbruhlswife @stilltoomuchafangirl @hannahbal-the-fannibal @hungrhay
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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years
Text
The Alienist and the Soprano Masterlist
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Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!OC Evelina Lind
Summary: Laszlo Kreizler is a well known alienist who occasionally helps solve crimes for the police. Evelina Lind is a rising opera singer newly appointed at the opera house. When these two meet by chance, can they overcome obstacles made by society and themselves to allow any happiness to enfold?
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150
Rated: 18+
Warnings: Age gap, dark themes, violence, sexual themes and Victorian sensibilities.
COMPLETED: 2/4
Chapter 1: The Rescue
Chapter 2: The Debut
Chapter 3: The Tour
Chapter 4: The Visits
Chapter 5: The Rendezvous
Chapter 6: The Disturbance
Chapter 7: The Truth
Chapter 8: The Confusion
Chapter 9: The Abduction
Chapter 10: The Confessions
Chapter 11: The Rumors
Chapter 12: The Courtship
Chapter 13: The Holidays
Chapter 14: The Birthday
Chapter 15: The Engagement
Chapter 16: The Matter
Chapter 17: The Preparations
Chapter 18: The Wedding
Chapter 19: The Lovers
Chapter 20: The Honeymoon
Chapter 21: The Return
Chapter 22: The Adaptation
Chapter 23: The Calm
Chapter 24: The Case
Chapter 25: The Confrontation
Chapter 26: The News
Chapter 27: The Proposal
Chapter 28: The Celebration
Chapter 29: The Concerns
Chapter 30: The Arrival
Chapter 31: The End
Shout out to @scuttle-buttle​​ for helping me and inspiring me with this format. The image came from @fox2245 but the edit was all me. This is my very first masterlist, so if it doesn’t look good, please be kind and understand. 
Tagging: @cazzyimagines​​​​​​ @scuttle-buttle​​​​​​ @whatawildone​​​​​​ @violetmuses​​​​​​ @sokoviandelights​​​​​​ @flutterskies​​​​​​ @rumblelibrary​​​​​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​​​​​​  @somethingthatsaysbubbles​​​​​​ @alindeluce​​​​​​ @linkpk88​​​​​​ @valquiria3000
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scuttle-buttle · 3 years
Text
Chapter 1
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Summary: Catherine Sinclair is the younger, estranged half-sister of renowned F1 driver James Hunt. Things get a bit complicated when she decides to reenter James’ life and ends up meeting his rival - Niki Lauda. Engines ignite as Catherine finds herself caught between her feelings for Niki and the rivalry that the two men share. Will she pump the brakes or let herself crash in the inferno?
Pairing: Niki Lauda (Rush 2013) x fem!OC Catherine Sinclair
Word Count: 1k
Rating: E for eventual smut
T/W: language, eventual smut, hot second of accidental implied incest (but there is none), rivalry, mentions of substance use, F1 racing, mentions of extramarital affairs & pregnancy
A/N: So while this is OC I’ve written it as minimalist as possible so it's virtually a niki x reader, also I’m unsure if the Nurburgring crash will occur in the story. My vibe is like mixing the ‘75 and ‘76 seasons so that James is McLaren but that Niki doesn’t have the accident/will win the season. We will see how it goes.
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You made your way through the crowd of people looking for a quiet spot. The pit buzzed with excitement, each of the drivers and their crew preparing for today's race. Only those with passes were supposed to be in this section. No one paid you any mind as you wandered.
Originally you intended to find your estranged brother when you arrived. Now that you were here though you felt as though there was a rock in your stomach. You had snuck into the pit to find him and his tent was easy enough to spot, but nerves made you delay. I'll just find him after the race, you thought as you continued to watch the cars fly on the track.
The pleats in your skirt blew in the cool early spring breeze, dusting your calves. Oversized sun glasses perched on your nose, you took a minute to watch the bustle around you.
Some 30 meters away one of the drivers noticed you looking out of place. Usually when women entered the pit it was on the arm of a driver. There was something different about you. Confident stature, yet your face suggested you were unsure of yourself in the unfamiliar territory that was Formula 1. He wondered why you were alone. The man couldn't help but notice how naturally attractive you were. It was a kind of subtle beauty, rather than overemphasized like in the movies and magazines. You didn't look as though you were there to catch the eye of someone, unlike most. He turned away and resumed setting up the car.
"Hey Niki, there's gonna be a party at the Lotus hub later. You should come, have a little fun for once, " Clay offered.
"No, thank you."
"Aw come on, you always say no!"
"And yet you always ask," Niki shot back. He wanted to focus on the race and his strategy to beat Hunt.
"You need to make friends, Niki. Talk to some people. They all think you're an asshole."
"So what? Let them think I'm an asshole, I don't care."
Clay threw up his hands in defeat before leaving Niki to himself. Niki watched him walk back towards his own vehicle before beginning to turn back to his own. Looking to his left towards where you had been standing a minute before he noticed you had vanished.
Finally finding a bit of calm, you leaned against a trailer to watch the race. The drivers had all lined up in position. With a deafening blast the cars shot off along the track.
Time went rather quickly as you watched. James was neck and neck with another driver for most of it. You weren’t even in the race yet you felt alive with adrenaline. In the second to last lap you were sure James was going to place second, behind one of the Ferraris. Suddenly James pulled tight around a curve, whipping past the Ferrari by what looked like inches before settling in the lead.
The last lap blurred by with Hunt in first. He crossed the finish line mere seconds before the Ferrari. People screamed and cheered for Hunt; you yourself broke out into a grin. James celebrated at the podium with his bottle of champagne, the press eating up his theatrics.
You made your way closer to the track and your brother but stayed at a distance so as to not disturb the revelry.
"Can I help you?" came an accented gruff from behind you. Spinning, you saw one of the drivers standing there with his hands on his hips, sweaty with his red track suit partially unzipped. You hadn't realized how close you were standing to his car - the red Ferrari.
"Oh no I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be in the way…"
"You're not." He stared at you and pursed his lips. You shuffle your feet, unable to look away from his gaze. "Is this your first race?"
"How could you tell?"
"Why aren't you joining the party?" was his retort.
"I'm not really the type." He nodded once. "So that was you out there competing against the McLaren?" You weren’t quite ready to reveal that you knew James just yet.
"Yes." He really doesn't say much, does he?
Niki could sense the growing awkwardness between the two of you. "You need to be more friendly, people will think you're an asshole" Clay was always reminding him. He didn't know why but he felt he wanted to make an impression on you. Licking his lips he added "I often find myself competing with Hunt. He has talent. But he has no regard for risk. That curve was my line, I had it. He could've killed us both," Niki scowled.
Agreeing, you said "sounds about right for him. He made some ballsy moves today. It was thrilling watching the two of you compete. You're really talented."
"Thank you," his tone was cocky.
You continued to chat with the driver about the race. He explained how the points system worked to you, adding in that he and James had been neck and neck all season. Niki enjoyed your company. He found it refreshing that you actually wanted to know more about what it was he did, that you weren’t there seeking fame and attention. He was even more impressed that despite knowing very little about F1 you had some knowledge of cars. “My older brother really likes them,” you shrugged.
“Perhaps you will come to the next race?”
“It really depends on what I’ve got going on, I am a busy girl,” you laughed.
“Hopefully not too busy to come by the garage this week. I would like to hear your ideas about setting up the car.” Niki figured there wouldn’t be anything you could suggest that he hadn’t already thought of, but he liked talking with you. You seemed practical, and he was a practical guy himself.
“I don’t even know your name.”
He held out his hand for you to shake; “Niki Lauda.”
“Catherine Sinclair.”
Tags: @ay0nha
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scuttle-buttle · 3 years
Text
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!
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Part of the Baron on the Run series. Also available on AO3 @  scuttlebuttle. They say that life inspires art. i was vibing while making pasta last night and viola.
Summary: You and Zemo do a little dance.
Word Count: ~1.3
Rating: T
Tags: fluff, mildly suggestive, cold war talk, mentions of child loss, indiana jones, disco, italian food, just dance reference
______________________________________________
Zemo entered the kitchen and set his coat on the back of the chair. "Evening, liebe. How was your day?"
You walked over to him. The one nice thing about being quite tall was that you didn't have to go far to reach his waiting lips. Giving him a soft peck, you hummed "it was good. I finally got to look over that set of documents from Belarus this morning. There wasn’t much that I didn’t already know in it. Although, it did confirm that the push for economic and social stability in the capital, as well as the implementation of some westernized practices, was not so that the BSSR and USSR could modernize or even compete with the west - rather it was a means to draw people to settle in Minsk instead of the countryside where it would be easier for Hydra to keep tabs on anyone they perceived to be a threat…” you continued to ramble in the most analytic jargon about the historical implications you discovered.
Helmut made himself a glass of scotch, occasionally nodding along to what you said. Running out of breath you finally stop; "anyway… enough about me."
“I like listening to what you are passionate about. You have worked hard to be so successful and so young.” You gave him a look as though you didn’t believe a word he was saying. And it wasn’t like you were that young, only a little over a decade between you two.
“How did the recon mission go?”
"It went well. I was able to get close enough to the mark to get what I needed. They make it so easy when they openly discuss their plans. You would like the cafe - perhaps later this week we will go. The agreed rendezvous is late tomorrow night; I won't wake you." For the last month Helmut had dedicated his efforts to helping you with your dissertation research. You had limited resources on Sokovia due to the rampant corruption the nation faced. Those few that you had access to Helmut would help translate.
Hands gently massaging your shoulders as he leaned over you. His cologne invades your senses. “This right here - I’m not sure what it means,” you would tell him, pointing to the passage.
Glancing over it for a moment, Helmut responded with the translation. “You know schatz, I’m beginning to wonder if you truly need my assistance, or if you just want an excuse for me to touch you,” he chuckled.
The fall of the country and subsequent annexation made matters even more challenging. Some unsavory underground groups had been smuggling documents and the like for a profit. With his background in EKO Scorpion and the intelligence community it was an easy way for him to spend his time tracking the materials. "It won't just be for you, liebe. If I can recover any of the surviving artifacts and records from before the Avengers destroyed my country it is a step towards preserving my heritage," was his justification. He wouldn't admit it, but you knew he liked being back in the field, so to speak. You also knew that the more information he had the more cards were up his sleeve.
"Don't forget to bring your hat and whip when you go," you ribbed, referencing one of your favorite film series; Indiana Jones.
"Of course... Hmm. Maybe when I get back I will have to wake you. I'm sure we could put them to better use than just treasure hunting." Helmut loved to tease you after he discovered your fondness for a young Harrison Ford. In fact, teasing and flirting with you had become his favorite pastime since your first night together.
Groaning out a laugh at his suggestive joke, you turned and headed back over to the stove. You set on a large pot of water to boil. Helmut approached the stove. "And what are you preparing for dinner this evening, liebling?" he asked, rubbing your back through your top. You knew he didn’t expect you to cook for him, but you wanted to.
"Spaghetti and a homemade sauce with spicy Italian sausage - my father used to make it when I was growing up." You stirred the simmering sauce, letting the flavors continue to marinate together.
"It smells wonderful,” he moaned. Somberly he added “I used to make a bolognese. It was the one dish I knew how to prepare. It was my son’s favorite.” You squeezed his side in hopes to offer comfort.
“You’ll have to make it for me sometime,” you request tenderly.
His lips turned up in a soft smile. “Yes I will, liebe. I'm going to go change before we eat, I will be back shortly." He kissed your temple before heading to the bedroom of the house you were occupying.
When the water boiled you placed the noodles in the pot and set a timer. Grabbing your phone off the counter you pulled up Spotify, queueing your "feeling it" playlist. The beginning notes of ABBA's Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! began. Heading to the cabinet you brought down two glasses. Picking a bottle of red wine - sweeter to balance with the spiciness of the sauce - you opened it and poured yourself and Helmut a glass each.
Hips beginning to sway to the rhythm of the music, you returned to the stove. This playlist always put you in a great mood. You continued to move to the music, singing along softly. You take a generous swig from the bottle of wine still in your hand before adding some to the sauce, stirring the pot thoroughly.
Dancing through the kitchen you sing out 'gimme! gimme! gimme! a man after midnight!" You knew you were a terrible dancer, even worse than Helmut. That didn't stop you from partaking in the activity, your hips gyrating and shoulders shimmying.
You didn't notice the movement in the hallway, still caught up in the song. Wine glass in hand, you attend to the stove to ensure the water doesn't boil over. The song eventually changes over to a Boney M classic. "There lived a certain man in Russia long ago…." Excitedly, you put down your glass. You remember the choreography like it was yesterday, middle school you always danced to the song in an old video game.
Without hesitation you clapped your hands and swung your hips to the beat. Turning you notice Helmut leaning against the kitchen door. How long he'd been there, you didn't know. Based on the amused smile he wore he clearly enjoyed watching you look like an idiot dance.
Making your way to him you reach out for his hands. Helmut followed along, albeit hesitant to move his body yet. You locked your eyes to his. Wiggling your eyebrows exaggeratedly at him, pushing and pulling his arms in time with the beat. “Come on, Helmut - dance with me!”
“I thought I was a terrible dancer? Did you not say that in Madripoor?” he interrogated without a single trace of seriousness.
“Oh you know I love the way you dance,” you giggled, still moving to the beat.
There was a glint of something in his eyes; suddenly Helmut took charge of your little dance. He twisted his hips from side to side, breaking one hand away from you to twirl you under his arm. The two of you danced like dorks, firsts pumping and hands in the air and wagging your fingers around the kitchen.
A sudden shrill from the timer stopped your movements, both bursting into fits of laughter. Turning off the timer Helmut took care of draining the pasta for you. As you caught your breath you couldn’t help but admire the man. He had spent so long seeking vengeance, yet now here he was dancing like a weirdo with you in the kitchen. His face was so relaxed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this happy and at peace you thought to yourself. Maybe, just maybe, you had something to do with that.
“Is the sauce ready?” Helmut inquired with a lingering smile.
You took a minute to keep appreciating him before answering. “Yeah. Yeah it’s good.”
Tag list: @ay0nha​
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dragon-kazansky · 3 years
Text
Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
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AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT YOU'RE ABOUT TO READ.
Happy Birthday @goddessofmischief03 I'M SORRY THIS IS YOUR PRESENT FROM ME!
Part 8
The pair of you drove for hours. Zemo didn't care about where you wanted to stop. All you had to do was say the word and he would pull over here and there. You had taken so many photos on your phone. Though a lot of them were just of him. Maybe you would get those printed and make an album. Maybe you were just getting carried away.
The evening rolled in. The wicked woman had texted you an hour ago to state what time she wanted to meet you. Zemo had dropped you off, kissing you before letting you go. He left to meet with Sam, hoping to get his forgotten car back home.
You entered the bar. It was pretty empty, finding her wasn't hard. Lucky for you, she was alone. You took a deep breath as you walked over to her table and sat down, but not even offering her a smile.
On the table right in front of her was a file. That scared you. Whatever this was about, she was serious. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as you sat still, hands in your lap. You stared at her.
She stared back.
"You came," she said, almost as if she expected you not to.
"Of course I did, I'm not a horrible person who stands people up. Even if I'm here for nonsense."
She narrows her eyes at you.
"Neither am I."
"You're right. You're just blind," you cross your arms over your chest and ignore the waiter who brings you each a glass of water.
"I'm not the blind one," she hisses after he leaves.
"No? What kind of sick game are you playing here? Tony Stark isn't in love with you. It's all a publicity stunt."
"It's not!"
"See? You're blind to the truth. You're being lured in by the fact you admire him. You have been a fan of racing much longer than I. You have seen Stark win over and over again, season after season. You're in love with the idea of dating a professional racer."
She looks pissed.
"It's all lies. You know nothing. I'll show you who that man really is. Chasing Zemo is a mistake. You'll regret ever knowing him after you learn the truth."
"What truth? What are you talking about?" You try to resist raising your voice.
"This!" She slams a hand over the file.
"What is it? What's in there?"
She hands the file to you. You take it, but don't yet open it. You stare at her. On the outside you look cold, calculating. On the inside, your heart is racing and a million thoughts are running through your head. You're freaking out.
"What had Helmut Zemo told you?" She asks, looking you in the eye.
"About what?"
"About him."
"Not a lot. He is wealthy. Has houses all around Europe, owns a large collection of cars that have been passed down through his family. He doesn't have a large racing background, but he is passionate about cars." You shrug, not knowing what else to say.
"So he didn't you he was a Baron? That his family was literally royalty before Sokovia surrendered in the war? He wasn't even in the county when it collapsed. That's why he doesn't talk about it. His family is dead."
"Why are you telling me this? I know about Sokovia, it was global news. A whole country destroyed in the crossfire. If you have any respect for the dead, you'll stop talking about his family that way," you say, glaring at her.
"I'm not done. Open the file."
You glare a moment longer before you open the file. You look down at the first page you're presented with.
"Who is that?"
There was a photo of a young man. Dirty blonde hair, tall, blue eyes, sweet smile.
"That's Pietro Maximoff," she tells you that name as if you should know who he is.
"Who is he?"
"Pietro Maximoff was a racer."
"Was?"
"He died." She reaches across the table and points to some information below his photo. You can't the words on the page.
Pietro Maximoff
Deceased
Died on impact
Cause: Car accident.
Speculation of foul play by the hands of Helmut Zemo. Car appeared to have been tampered with before hand. Witness testified to sighting of Zemo tampering with car. No solid evidence provided.
You stared at the words, letting them sink in. The woman across from you says nothing as you scan the ink before you.
You swallow.
"It says no evidence was provided."
"There doesn't need to be. He was seen."
"Why who?"
"No one knows. They remained anonymous," she shrugs lightly.
"What are you trying to tell me?" You look at her. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your emotions.
"Baron Helmut Zemo killed Pietro Maximoff because Maximoff was his competition. Zemo has raced before, but his career was cut short after this. Unfortunately there was no actual proof to pin on him, the witness only had their statement. Maximoff was the next big racer and Zemo dealt with him."
You stand abruptly.
"No."
"Zemo is a murderer," she tells you.
"Stop, please."
"He didn't tell you any of this did he?"
"You're lying."
"All the evidence is in that folder."
The tears fall. You shake your head and try to control your breathing. She's lying. She has to be.
"Stark told me everything. He even provided the information."
You shake your head again.
"I don't believe it. Why are you doing this to me? Is this your sick way of getting back at me? This is cruel. This is so cruel."
"It's the truth. You won't find anything by looking up the Baron, but if you look up Pietro Maximoff you'll find the story. Zemo killed a man so he could win. What's stopping him from doing it again?"
"Are you implying he would kill Stark? Are you insane?" You almost yell.
"He has killed a man before. What's once more?" She asks, angrily hissing out the words.
"Please don't do this to me," you plead.
"Read it. Accept it. It's true. They might not have anything solid on him, but you know as well as I that it's true."
You shake your head a third time.
"Look at it. Read the articles." She moves the file on Pietro over and underneath is a newspaper article.
Racing star, Pietro Maximoff dies in horrific accident
Baron Helmut Zemo disqualified from racing season over foul play speculation.
Helmut Zemo to stand trial
Baron Zemo walks free
"He wasn't found guilty of anything."
"I said it doesn't matter! He did it. Everyone knows he did it."
"You can't just give around accusing people of murder," you his quietly. You had sat back down, not wanting anyone to see your rage.
"Open your eyes."
"You don't know him," you say, voice falling to defeat.
"You don't know Tony Stark."
"I know him better than you." You close the file. "Do not ever come at me with this. Unless you have hard evidence that Zemo was there and had done what he was accused of, I won't believe you."
"You say that now, but trust me. You're going to come around," she gathers the file and stands up.
You watch her storm away.
You bite your cheek as tears fall. Taking out your phone, you search up Pietro Maximoff.
Zemo's name popped up several times.
He really has been accused of killing this young man.
Why did your chest hurt so much?
Maybe you should have asked him earlier when the thought crossed your mind.
You continue to sit at that table, ordering a drink mindlessly when the waiter comes over. It's all you have.
You look at the photo of Pietro on your phone. He had to be in his early twenties. Probably the youngest racer you had come across so far.
You sit there for ages, slowing drinking.
Your phone then starts to ring. You stare at the name lighting up your screen.
Zemo👑
Did you dare answer?
Having spent too long trying to decide, it clicks off. You stare at the screen. It lights up a second time.
Zemo👑
He must be worried. Yet, looking at his name flashing up on screen, dread fills you. Yob your phone, leave money for the drink, and make your way out.
The cold air of the night feels sharp and bitter against your skin. When did it get so cold? Or was that just you?
There was no one out here.
You're not sure if you felt glad about that. Your phone rings again. You know he'll be coming to pick you up, especially if you don't answer his call.
You swipe the call button and hold the phone up to your ear.
"Y/N? Thank goodness, you were not picking up. I was worried something bad happened. I'm on my way to you now, are you alright?"
You listen to his worried words. You stand there wondering who it was you were actually talking to.
"Y/N? Are you there?"
There is panic to his voice.
"Zemo..."
"Y/N? What is it? What's happened?"
You just knew he was picking up the speed right now. He was going to do anything to get to you now.
"Have you been honest with me?"
"What do you mean? Of course I have."
Lies. He is lying. That little voice in the back of your mind is repeating that to you. Lies.
You begin to cry.
"Who is Pietro Maximoff?"
Silence.
"Zemo, who is Pietro Maximoff?"
"How do you know that name?"
"Who is he?"
More silence.
You sob into the phone. His silence was an answer. He knew who you were talking about and your mind spiraled out of control.
He's dangerous. Stark was right.
You hang up. You turn your gaze down the street and decide to walk. You needed air.
Zemo was losing his mind. That wicked woman! What had she told you? Why had she brought that up?
When he realised you had hung up, he put his foot down. He had to get to you. He had to explain, he had to tell you himself.
He couldn't lose you. He couldn't.
This is not how he had imagined his night to go. Suddenly, things were falling apart.
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215 notes · View notes
dragon-kazansky · 3 years
Text
Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
Tumblr media
AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 7
You did not, in fact, spend the night in the lovely room Zemo had made up for you. No, you had spent it with him. You woke up with his arm around you. He greeted you with a smile as you turned over to look at him. Then he kisses your forehead before pulling you into his chest.
Last night was amazing. Eventually you stopped making out outside his locker room and he got changed. You went out on your date, as he promised he would do. He took you to a reply nice bar. You both stayed there for hours, drinking and chatting.
You had to get a cab back to his house, neither of you fit to drive. It was good fun though.
You smiled softly. He was so warm.
"Good morning," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. His voice is all deep and thick from sleep. It makes his accent all the more pronounced... and sexy.
"Good morning."
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. Right now, in this very moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive.
"My handsome pro racer," you mutter, fingers caressing his jaw softly. He leans into your touch ever so slightly, the softest smile tugging at his lips.
"Your handsome pro racer?" He asks, still whispering.
"I think we're at that stage, no?"
He chuckles again, pulling you in to kiss you properly. You fit against him perfectly. Everything in this moment perfect, serene, and as it should be.
"Do I get breakfast?" You asks, cheeky grin on your face.
"Yes. I'll cook for you."
You kiss him once more before he slides out of bed and puts some clothes on. You laugh as he dresses. You had quite the night last night.
You stay in bed a little longer before you get up. You feel so at home here. Eventually you just miss him and get up. You grab some clothes, go into the bathroom, and get ready.
Zemo cooks up a delicious breakfast for you both. He serves it with some tea. He smiles as you enter the room, looking just as amazing as always.
"Breakfast is served."
You sit down with a smile and tuck in. It just feels so domestic and homey having breakfast with Helmut. As you sat there eating what he had made for you, a thought comes to mind.
Is this the start of something incredible?
You had hope that was the case. You didn't think you could go back to your lifestyle after being a part of his. This was where you wanted to be, you were sure of it.
"I'm going to hand in my notice soon," you say, glancing up at him.
The smile on his face was one of the most wonderful sights you has ever seen.
"I'll have things organised for you when you're ready to take over as my manager."
You grin.
"I have a lot to learn, but I won't let you down. We're a team now."
"Yes, we are."
After breakfast, you help clean up, you jump in the shower, and then you grab your phone. You give your boss a ring and alert him of what you wanted to do. When he asked why you were leaving, you told him about the offer you had received, trying to sound as casual about it as possible.
He freaked out when he heard you were going into the racing industry. After all, he was a fan of Zemo.
Everything felt like it was working out and coming together.
You hung up and turned to Zemo who had been waiting for you. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back, grinning.
"Well?" Though he didn't really have to ask.
"It's a done deal. He wants me to do one more shift, so he can give me a proper farewell, but then I'm all yours!"
He kisses you.
He had never felt this happy before. He held you to him, burying his nose into the crook of your neck. It was here as he hugged you that he felt like he could do anything. He just needed to win these next two races.
Your phone rang.
You sighed as you pulled away from Zemo, giving him a sad smile as you went to pick it up. Zemo leaves so you can have some privacy, already missing you.
"Hello?"
"Y/N?"
It was 'your friend.'
"What can I do for you?" You ask, keeping your guard up. After her little tantrum, you didn't exactly trust her any more.
"We need to talk."
"Do we?" You keep your voice curt and clipped.
"Yes. There is something you need to know. I could tell you over the phone, but I think it's best we talk in person. You may not believe me if we don't, and I have evidence."
"What are you going on about?"
"Your boyfriend isn't being honest with you."
"My boyfriend? What about yours?" You ask, sharply. "What was all that shit you pulled at the race?"
"What? Jealous because he loves me?"
"No. What have I got to be jealous of?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you. Meet me at The Alpine bar tonight. Come alone."
She hangs up.
You stare at your phone, glaring at it.
No longer hearing your voice, Zemo returns. He sees you looking at your phone.
"Something the matter?"
You look up at him quickly.
"Uh, a certain someone wants to meet with me."
Zemo comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You lean back into his chest and sigh.
"What does she want?"
"I don't know. She wants to meet me at The Alpine bar."
"That's in town. I'll drop you off if you would like."
"Alright. She wants to meet tonight."
He turns you around so he can look at you. Softly, he caresses your cheek with the back of his long fingers. You lean into his touch the same way he did to you this morning.
"Something is troubling you."
"She troubles me."
He kisses your forehead lightly. A great sense of pride and achievement washes over him. He can do this whenever he wants. You have given him the permission he needed. His lips longer there.
"Whatever it is, we can deal with it."
You nod subtly.
He steps back and look at you, smiling handsomely at you.
"I have an idea."
"Hm?"
"I want to show you something. Grab some shoes and your jacket, we are going out," he says, leaving your side in favour of finding his coat.
You do as he said and wait for him by the door.
Zemo returns to your side wearing a long dark coat, fur embedded at the collar. So extra, yet so him.
He grabs your hand as you leave the house.
Zemo keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you away from the house. You walk together toward a huge garage sitting up ahead from his house. You hadn't noticed it yesterday as you were blown away by the house itself.
You had a pretty good idea on what was in there. You smile at him as you approach the building.
Zemo has you stop stop at the large double doors. You grin excitedly at him as he unlocks the doors. He winks at you before pulling the door open.
The lights turn on as he flicks a switch off to the side and before you is a beautiful sight. Dozens and dozens of cars. All kinds of makes and models. Lots of different colours. Many of them were in perfect condition. There were a few really old ones that had early seen better days, but still looked amazing. They were all lined up in rows.
"Wow."
Zemo watches as you approach the first set of cars in front of you. You look at them in awe. Glancing behind you, he nods at you. You walk along the line.
"They're all yours?"
"Every single one. Passed down through generations of my family," he says, looking at them with nostalgia.
"Helmut, this is so cool!" You touch one carefully. This feels like such a special and important moment. This is a peek at another part of his life. Looking around, you spot a few familiar cars, ones he has picked you up in before.
"That reminds me, you'll need to get your car from the bar."
"Ah yes, we took a cab home, didn't we? I'll sort that out tonight while you meet with... you know."
You nod and walk along some more.
You took secret glanced at the man following you around his collection. You trusted him. You did! Yet, there was something settling in the back of your mind. A nagging feeling that whatever it was she was going to tell you, was bad.
She spoke about him as if he had some dark secret to hide. You worried that this wasn't some little misdeed just because she was upset with you.
You couldn't ask him, could you?
Maybe it was best to see what she had to say before bringing anything up.
Zemo came to stand beside you, arm snaking around you. You were standing in front of the first car he had picked you up in, the convertible.
"It was in this car fate decided to bring us together," he says, trying to make it sound as cheesy as he could.
"How sappy." You roll you eyes.
He kisses your cheek.
"It's true, no?"
You turn your head to smile and kiss him properly.
"Yeah, it's true."
Negative thoughts melt into nothing when he has you like this. He's safe and warm. He's home. Your home. He could be.
"Shall we drive?"
You nod.
"Pick a car. Your choice," he whispers.
You smile as you turn around and look at the collection. One if the back catches your eye. It's purple. His colour.
"That one."
He says nothing as he walks over to the back, opens a cabinet on the back wall, plucks a key from within, and then beckons you over.
"Let's go."
You're grinning as you climb in the car. You'll worry about the meet up later. For now, you wanted to feel free again with Zemo.
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198 notes · View notes
dragon-kazansky · 3 years
Text
Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
Tumblr media
AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 11
Zemo turns. Stark is looking right at him through that red and gold helmet. He has to win today. He has to win for you. You may hate him now over what happened back then, but he will always be in love with you. He wonders, are you watching him on TV now? Or are you completely done with him?
He wouldn't blame you if you were.
Being labelled a murderer isn't exactly something to celebrate. Stark had made sure he lived with that. Everything Zemo worked for, gone because of an accident.
Maybe if Pietro hadn't been driving a Stark vehicle, he would still be here today. The only car Stark ever builds that has had a high success rate is the one he drives himself.
Pietro's car malfunctioned. He couldn't turn the wheel. He crashed straight into the barrier, full speed. There was nothing left.
His life was over.
His engine flaring to life had him turning back to the track. He would win today. He had to. Even if he felt like a part of him was missing.
The engine. His breathing. The distant sound of the crowd. He let it all consume him. He was in the zone.
And then, he was off.
Stark kept in line with him. The pair of them darting across the track in perfect sync with each other. It was a game. A dangerous game. One Zemo may very well be done playing after this season.
Around the first bend.
Strange was just behind them, not getting too close. This rivalry was something he didn't want to get in the middle of. Every race he drives behind them, watching. Every race he wonders if something will happen.
One day, he is sure, it will.
They're still in line with one another as they approach the second bend. Tony, however, gets a little closer. Zemo doesn't look away from the road. He has to focus.
You might be watching.
The pair of them get round the bend with no issues as of yet. Tony is still too close for comfort, but Zemo will have to deal with it. He is relying on the third bend to put Stark back a bit. Once he's around it, he can give it all he's got.
However, Stark softens up a little. He falls back on the approach. Zemo didn't have enough time to think on it as his car malfunctions right under him. It locks, the wheel stuck. He can't slow down, and then-!
Hot. It's very hot.
Instinct kicks in. Zemo has never been in a situation like this before, but he has prepared for it. He has no time to panic as he focuses on getting out. He needs to get out.
The ground beneath him is a welcome feeling as he falls out, crawling away from his totalled car quickly.
The first ambulance, the one stationed nearest to the corner, arrives. They help him up and into the back, urgently looking him over.
Stark is approaching the line.
Zemo sits in the back of the ambulance. He let's them do what they have to do as he just sits there. His mind wanders to you. He hoped, in that moment, you hadn't been watching.
He realised right then and there that he no longer cared about winning. It wouldn't have been worth it anyway. Not without you there to celebrate with him.
Zemo was fine.
He had got out so quickly he was fine. They were still concerned for him, but he brushed them off. When he exited the ambulance, Sam and James were there.
"Worried?" He asked.
They turn and look at him, relief washing over them.
"We thought you were...."
"Dead?" He finished.
"Yeah. You alright?" Sam looked him up and down.
"I'm alive."
"What the Hell happened?"
"My car malfunctioned, so to speak. Everything locked up. I couldn't turn, I couldn't slow down. Yet, here I stand."
"Zemo, you don't think-?" Sam begins to ask.
"Who is to say? If there is anything left of my car once the fire is out, be my guest and take a look. Perhaps I should blow out now, cut my losses."
"Zemo, no. You can still race."
"Is there a point?"
"You miss them." James looks at Zemo with a stoic face.
"Of course I miss them."
Zemo looked like a broken man standing there. His fists were clenched and his jaw set.
"Y/N was watching," Sam told him.
Zemo looks at him.
"Sarah called Wanda. She had gone to see Y/N earlier. Apparently, Y/N had rushed into the back to watch the race when they heard it starting."
"Then Y/N saw that." Zemo's eyes drift to his car.
"You have got to call them," James said.
"What do I say?"
"The truth. You're in love with them. You're sorry for not being honest with them."
Zemo runs a hand down his face and sighs.
"I need to think."
He walks away, following the rest of the race track. The race finished moments ago. All cars, that hadn't also malfunctioned, crossing the line. Sam and Bucky watch him go.
Your boss had closed up shop for the rest of the day. He had sat with you in the office until you had managed to calm down a bit. You clutched your phone tightly in your hand as you sat in his office chair, waiting. You have begged him to turn the TV back on. Reports of the accident flooding in.
You were so scared.
There had been no confirmation on Zemo. They were just talking about what may have happened. You couldn't handle the not knowing.
You: Please tell me you're alive.
You: Reply, you bastard!
You: I need to know.
You had panicked texted him. You just needed any sign that he was alive and well. It didn't matter any more. You loved him, you believed him. You needed him to be alive.
"Staring at your phone isn't going to being an answer."
You lips your lip and nod softly.
"I know."
Your boss put some coffee on the table for you, but you weren't sure if you wanted it or not.
"Why haven't they said anything about him?"
"I don't know."
"Stark won, didn't he?"
"Yeah."
"Good for him," you say, bitterly.
"Maybe you should go home."
"I'll only sit and worry there. I could also use the company." You look at him with a small smile.
"Alright. Then, we shall sit here and wait. I'll stay here all night I have to."
You chuckle lightly, but your heart wasn't in it. Your heart was yearning for your man.
Was he still your man?
Damn it, you should have gone to the race.
Zemo sits in his locker room alone. His phone feels heavy in his hands. Your name is on his screen. His thumbs hovering over the keyboard.
He saw your texts.
It would be cruel of him not to reply.
When he saw your name pop up, his heart soared. You were worried. Scared. For him. Were you still in love with him?
He closed his eyes and sighed.
He was going to make things right, he had to. He had messed up everything enough.
Stark had a big storm coming.
His phone rang. He looked at the number. For a moment his heart sped up, thinking it was you. It wasn't. He didn't recognise the number.
"Hello?"
"Helmut?"
"Wanda?"
That was unexpected. He hadn't seen her since... well, since then.
"Did they tell you?"
"They said you had gone to see Y/N. Is this true?"
"Yes. They watched the race. I wanted to call and say, I forgive you. I never blamed you for what happened to my brother. It was Stark that had that car built for him."
"Yes, I remember."
"Is that little witch still with him?"
"Yes. She is here."
"I think it's time to reveal the truth to her. No more secrets, yes?"
"Yes." He smiles, though she obviously couldn't see it.
"I must go. I trust everything will work out."
"Yes. Wanda, thank you."
Wanda hangs up. Your messages pop back up. He smiles as he types. Once his message is sent, he gets up and walks out, determined.
Time to show Stark he isn't defeated by him. Zemo meant business now.
Your phone lights up.
You grab it quickly and open it, seeing the message on your phone. You could cry happy tears.
Your boss doesn't need to see the message to know who it is. Your whole face lights up as you look at him and smile.
Zemo: I need you too.
You have never moved so quickly in your life before.
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dragon-kazansky · 3 years
Text
Dangerous | Helmut Zemo
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AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎
Gender neutral reader
Collage by @realremyd
I AM ONCE AGAIN SORRY
[Masterlist]
[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]
Part 9
When Zemo got to the bar, there was no one there. He had gone inside looking for you, had asked all the staff when he couldn't see you there. He began to panic when they told him you had left a while ago.
Rushing back outside, he looked left and right rapidly. He saw no one. He got back into his car and drove. He would drive all night if he had to. He just had to find you.
He kept trying to call you, but you wouldn't pick up. At some point you turned your phone off, which just made him worry all the more.
Pietro Maximoff.
He hadn't heard that name in years. What happened back then had always hung over him like a dark cloud, but it had been so long since anyone had ever said that name to him.
He had to explain. You needed to know what happened. If Zemo lost you, what would be the point? How could he race without his lucky charm? He couldn't let this get between you both.
He felt horrible lying to you. There was so much he hadn't told you, but he had never wanted you to find out like this. He should have been honest from the start.
Zemo could only imagine what you were thinking. What must you think of him now?
How long had been driving? He had no idea. He hadn't found you yet. It was becoming harder and harder to keep up his facade. He wanted to yell, scream, punch something.
Everything was falling apart.
The only place he hadn't checked was home. He had no idea how you would have got there, the walk being too far, but it's all he had left.
He makes the drive back.
His grip on the steering wheel was tight. He was full of worry, anger, regret.
He pulls up to the house, but all the lights are off and there is no sign of life. He has the key for the door, there's no way you have got in. He looks down the path to the garage, it looks undisturbed. The garage is locked up tight.
You're not here.
His phone rings.
Zemo scrambles for the device, nearly dropping it from how bad his hands had begun to shake. He looks at the screen, but is left disappointed. It's not you.
James Barnes
He answers it.
"Whatever it is better be important. I have urgent business to attend to." Zemo is surprised by how level he can keep his voice right now.
"I'd say this is important."
"Well, what is it?"
"I bumped into Y/N on my way home. It's only because of Sam I was able to recognize them."
"Where are they?" He asks, almost urgently.
"On the last train home for the night. Zemo, what the Hell happened? They were hysterically upset. I swear I'll kick your ass if you did something stupid."
"It wasn't something I did. Were they alone?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Y/N had gone to meet someone. A wicked young woman who I may run over if I see her," he hisses down the phone.
"I didn't see anyone else."
"I have to go."
Zemo hangs up. He has to go to you, but first, he has to meet with Stark. The only way that nasty little woman could have known about that incident is if Stark had told her.
Tony Stark had been there that day.
Zemo gets into his car and he drives. He drives like a man on a mission. He doesn't care how late it is, Tony Stark will see him tonight.
If Zemo loses you, he will never forgive himself. He will never forgive Tony Stark.
He will never race again.
The lights are on at Stark's homebase. Zemo spends a few minutes parked outside looking at the window. The curtains were drawn, but movement could be seen vaguely behind them.
He gets out and marches up to the door. He knocks harshly.
In the seconds before the opening of the door, many thoughts flashed through Zemo's mind. He had no idea what would happen here tonight, all he did know was that Tony Stark was a cruel man who wanted to ruin everything good in his life.
Zemo had been beyond lucky they even let him race again after what happened.
The door opens. Stark stands there.
The way he looks at Zemo, it pisses him off. He stands with his chin up, head held high, looking down at Zemo. He knows why the Baron is here. He had anticipated his visit.
"What a surprise," Tony says, no emotion to his voice.
"What have you done?'
"What I had to." Tony walks away, leaving the door open. He walks over to his alcohol cabinet and pours himself a drink. Zemo steps inside, glaring daggers at the man. His hands clenched into fists as he grinds his jaw.
"That was six years ago."
"It still happened."
"You know it wasn't my fault."
Tony stands, drink in hand, looking at his rival. Here was a man who had been broken once before, and stands broken again. Stark did you a favour. Zemo wouldn't be here now if you had gone back to him after that, so he can only assume you left.
"You are the reason that kid is dead. Everyone knows it."
Zemo shakes his head.
"You are the reason people see me as a murderer. I did nothing to you. That, out there, is competition. We play the game by the rules and we play fair. At least, we're suppose to. I do not like your dirty tricks, Stark."
Tony doesn't move. He stands there, still.
"I was lucky they even let me race again, but even luckier when Y/N came into my life. You are taking away everything I hold dear, piece by piece. You are ruining me."
"You ruined yourself when you took up racing," Tony says, coldly.
"You just can't let it go, can you? You don't like that I am better than you."
Tony doesn't reply.
Zemo takes slow, careful steps toward Tony. His eyes, glazed with tears, do not look away from his gaze. He only stops when he is directly in front of him.
"If I lose Y/N, you will never hear the end of this. You're cruelty knows no bounds, Stark. I fell so very sorry for Miss Potts. How can she be so fond of a man like you who turns careers and flaunts around with other women. Does your little bird know you are a heartless bastard?"
"You don't scare me, Zemo."
"Not yet, I don't."
Zemo grabs the glass from Stark's hand, throws it at the wall behind him, and then marches away.
He has to see you.
By the time he reaches your town, it's about one on the morning. Though there is the chance you're sleeping, he is here and he will takes his chances.
He knocks on your door.
There are no sounds, no sign of movement, but there is a light which he can see under your door.
You're home.
"Y/N." His accent is heavier than usual, wavered by emotion. He leans up against the door, ear pressed against it.
You're there.
He knows you're there, listening.
"I'm sorry," he says, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about me. Pietro Maximoff died in a terrible accident. His car malfunctioned. It was an accident that turned into a case because someone decided to ruin my career."
He waited, wanted to see if you would say anything.
You didn't.
"I have raced before. I won on my first race. I won again, the second. A racing star, they called me. That was the first time Tony Stark had lost. Suddenly, he had competition. Real competition. Before, he would leave everyone in the dust, winning over and over again. Then I showed up. After my second win, he had my car checked. He was furious because it was legal. He assumed I had altered it against the rules because there was no way his cars would lose. Then that happened."
He hears you move. You're right behind the door.
"Pietro Maximoff was a crazy good driver. Apparently he was awed by me. I told him if he crossed the line that day, I would tutor him. We made a deal. However, his car malfunctioned after the third turn. He drove head first into the barrier, full speed. His car caught fire. He was alone. It took too long for the team to reach him. He died on impact, they say. He was dead whether they got to him or not."
He sighs, hand resting up against the door.
"I did not tamper with his car. I did not kill that boy. Tony Stark made them believe I did with no evidence to prove it. I was found not guilty of attempted murder, but I was disqualified from racing up until I finally made an appeal. This season is my first racing season in 6 years."
He waits.
He hears shuffling, but nothing else.
"You have to believe me. If I lose you too... i have nothing left."
Nothing.
You don't say anything. The door does not open. He steps back in defeat. He doesn't know what else he can do, what else he can say.
Except, "If you still hold feelings for me, then please be at the next race. If you come, I'll know you'll forgive me. I know you'll still love me. If you don't, then I will never bother you again. I'll know that I have ruined everything and I will live with that regret until the day I die."
He takes a deep breath and steps away further.
"I love you. I want you to know that. I love you."
You cry silently as you listen to him walk away. It's not until you're sure he has gone when you let your cries out.
On your coffee table sat your laptop. As soon as you got home, you had been researching what had happened that day.
There was no evidence.
Just articles and speculation.
The fact that you even believed for a moment he had killed a young man like that made you sick. How horrible of a person could you be?
Helmut deserved someone better than that.
He has spent so many years living with a tragic accident over him, and you hadn't even talked to him about it.
You felt awful.
You spent most of the night heartbroken. Sleep eventually paid you a visit, but it was hardly restful. You just woke up in pain.
Race day was coming fast.
What were you going to do?
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ay0nha · 3 years
Text
The Race That Launched a Thousand Ships: Part 4/?
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(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic,  Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.  
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~3.1K
A/N: Dumb question/shower thoughts: Were seat belts a thing in the 70s? Probably right? I’ve been working so much, so thank you to all the kind comments and patience! Oh, and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know! Someone sent me their username in my ask box and I accidentally deleted it, so please send again sorry about that 😅😅
Warnings: drinking & being drunk/throwing up
Taglist: @scuttle-buttle @creme-bruhlee​ @hardlyinteresting 
Masterlist - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6
--
"And...Are you?"
"Yes."
Niki Lauda, Formula One Word Champion.
"Take me through it."
"No congratulations?" Niki asked, an ego-fueled smirk plastered on his face. This just helped prove how he was still high off the victorious adrenaline.
"Not until you talk me through it,"  I requested bluntly.
"Ok, well..." Niki drew in a breath to explain the race. It was as straightforward as his last few wins of the season were. He was in a good car with a good engine that brought him across the finish line just a bit faster than the rest. There was nothing exciting about the race except for the fact that Hunt's car broke down, no longer an issue for Niki. He got lucky, the two of them were contemporaries, Hunt had just as much a chance to win as he did by the sounds of it.
"So what I'm hearing is you had the advantage?" I baited him. I was in the perfect mood to pick a fight, "You're in a Ferrari, he's in a Hesketh...I mean, that speaks for itself."
"You're mad at me," He put it simply, "That's what this is."
"No," I shook my head and shrugged,  "Just put Hunt in my car, then come talk to me."
"Are you calling him the better driver?"
"All I'm saying is that-
"Ever since that party in Italy," Niki raised his voice at the start of the sentence, but trailed off toward the end, rubbing his chin with his hand, clearly being cautious of how he wanted to continue.
"No, go on," I dared him.  We were in it now, and there was no coming back from the argument that was begging to be started.
"Where is your loyalty?" He now questioned, adjusting his stance. His shoulders were squared, looking ready for a fight. He looked confident and rooted, I almost wanted to take a step back out of pure intimidation. Almost.
"Where's yours?" I seethed, copying his stance as I physically stood up to him.
"It was Marlene, wasn't it?" He argued further, coming even closer to me, "Clay talks to you the same and there is no issue there."
"No-
"Then what is your issue? " He practically bellowed.
I pushed air out of my lungs as I started to become visibly angry. But I was caught off guard by Niki’s previous comment. It made me stutter for a moment, realizing we weren't arguing about the same thing, "Nothing."
"No, not nothing," He wagged his finger at me, "Ever since that party, you have not been focused. This comes first."
We hadn't talked about what happened in the car the day of Clay's get-together, at least not directly. Neither of us knew how to bring it up and in doing so, we only created a wedge between us. One that only got wider as the races went on. I hadn't meant to take my anger out on him, but he was an easy target, in the same way, I was an easy target for him. We had become each others punching bags when in reality we were the only two that knew how to get the job done properly.
"Everyone seems to like him...Hunt." I ignored him, only pressing further. I knew when to stop, but I didn't want to, "He's got it all doesn't he? And you? What do you have Niki?"
I felt like strangling him. We were standing so close at this point that it wouldn't be that hard for me to do. He had a look on his face that could be described as masking hurt. It made me think that maybe, just maybe, I should have just congratulated him when he stopped by. That's what I was supposed to do as his mechanic. The car had optimal performance, the driver excelled, and the mechanic did their job of having all the right parts put together. We were a well-oiled machine on paper. But now, in person, that professional boundary between us proved to be nonexistent from the start. I was about to apologize for being difficult on purpose, but he spoke before I had the chance to.
"I never should have hired you," He said his words slowly, making sure I knew this was his final blow.
This was the final straw that broke the camel's back. My voice was quiet and low, but my words were menacing, ready to strike at a moment's notice, "Fire me then."
"What did you say?" Niki was taken aback by my willingness.
"Fuck you, Niki, that's what I said," I poked the bear one last time before things could truly got out of hand, "I'm leaving."
"You can't just leave when things get difficult," Niki walked after me, hoping I'd stop. I was quick to grab my things, more than ready to remove myself from this situation. My feelings were hurt and Niki was the one responsible, but I'd rather die than him know the way he made me feel.
"Then this," I held up my middle finger, walking out of the garage completely, "Is really going to burn your ass!"
"Where are you going?"
I glanced back at him, wishing I had just powered through and left. I shouldn't have given him an answer, but as much as I wanted to be left alone by him, I still answered, "The track."
"I thought you said you wouldn't go to a race," Niki yelled after me, grasping at straws to keep me there.
"It's over isn't it?"
The party was in full swing by the time I got there, everyone both winners and losers mingling together to sing and dance under the string lights of the track's pop-up tents. Any other time, I'd shy away from such a large crowd, but the blind rage I felt caused me to go straight to the middle. It wasn't hard to navigate the different bowls and bottles of alcohol, the small pockets of conversations, or the melding of a few different songs playing from various speakers on the grid. Everyone was on cloud nine, truly experiencing bliss in all its forms. Finding James was easy, especially since he was the life of the party despite his mishap only hours ago on the track. Once he saw me, he was surprised, but no doubt lit up, telling me how I had chosen the right person to party with tonight. It was obvious why so many people fawned over him. He was tall, blonde, charming, and was wickedly good at holding an enthralling conversation. He made you feel like an old friend that he hadn't gone a day without talking to. He was everything Niki wasn't. 
I couldn't help but wonder what Niki would be like if he let loose, let himself relax, and enjoy himself fully. I had thought I saw it once before. It was shortly after he had hired me and we had just gotten on a red-eye flight, causing us both to succumb to the wiles of exhaustion. I couldn't even remember which Grand Prix it was, but I could never forget how uninhibited Niki was. It was unprompted and it wasn't anything explicit, just the general atmosphere of comfort and contentedness as we sat next to each other on the quiet flight. His guard was completely down. I had no way of knowing that wasn't going to be the norm for him and I wish I had stricken when the iron was hot.
But now, there was no doubt that harden exterior was right back up the way he wanted it. It was a protective barrier that I should build back up for myself.  As my mind became hazier by the drink, I started to believe in order to start over, I'd need to knock down what was remaining to truly start from the bottom up. As a result, I started to slur my frustrations to those around me, no longer caring what I said or who I said it to. James thought it was funny at first, he even encouraged me. However, his encouragement led me down a deep rabbit hole of exploiting myself from atop a table and frankly I became the buzz kill of the party. He then excused himself, probably tired of my antics.
"James, you didn't," I seethed as he came back into view with an uninvited guest, "Why did you call him?"
"I'm not fit to drive you home and you're clearly not fit to drive..." James defended politely, scared of the glare he was now receiving from me, "I thought he'd be the one to call..."
"The one to call," I laughed bitterly, my body losing balance as I stepped off the table. Niki reacted before I could, offering a helping hand,  "Look here you-
"Get in the car," Niki said sternly, wanting to leave no room to argue.
But I had enough wiggle room to say, "No, just go home."
"Is she alright?"
Niki directed his question towards James, but I took the opportunity to answer, "I'm fine!"
"She started talking about-
"Martin," I hiccuped loudly, "Big deal, it's time for all these people to know don't you think? How I was bullied out of my title."
Niki's grip on my elbow was firm, teetering on the line of painful and protective. He pushed through the crowd, adeptly fake smiling at a the handful of people who had stopped to congratulate him.
"Stop manhandling me," I huffed tugging my arm from Niki, but his grasp was unrelenting, "I can walk on my own!"
"Let's get you to the car," James stepped in, replacing Niki's arm of support.
I took it gratefully as I stumbled with him towards Niki's car. It was like a flip of a switch. I was tired now and had no fight left in me. I watched as the two men next to me tag-teamed to get me into the car. Not only had my mind given up, but my body wasn't too far behind. With James's arm under my own, he let me lean on him while Niki opened the door. Niki's posture seemed nervous as I worked my way into the car, he was restraining himself from stepping in. I thought at that moment, maybe if I truly went slack he would. But I didn't have enough time to test my theory as the door was already closed.  I watched through the windshield as Niki walked around to the other side of the car, stopping in the middle to share a few words with James. I tried to read their lips but the darkness and my inebriation made my efforts worthless.
While I waited, I made sure to buckle myself in. Not soon after, Niki opened his own door and slid in next to me, a hefty relieved sigh leaving his mouth. When he shut his door, it was like he shut out the rest of the world, finally able to give me his undivided attention. Even thinking that made me nervous, but he gave no indication otherwise. He had even glanced over at me, his hand already reaching for my seat belt only to stop once he saw I had already fastened it.
The ride was silent. Every part of the car could be heard. I tried hard to listen to it, hoping I could start nit-picking the way he had.  I couldn't hear anything. Maybe I didn't want to because that meant I'd have to start talking to him. But what really stopped me from opening my mouth was incredible nausea I started to feel. I put one hand over my mouth and the other to my forehead, trying to force it away as best I could. It only grew stronger as the car moved further along.
"Niki..." I groaned lowly, afraid if I said any more, more than words would come out of my mouth.
He ignored me, having zero interest in the argument he thought I was going to start. Our last words were still fresh.
"Niki," I said more urgently, grabbing his arm.
"Margot." He said my name like a warning.
"It's coming..." I let go of his arm, my hand returning to my mouth.
"What?" His attitude forgotten, anxiety now heighten.
"I'm going to throw up..." I started to burp. Saying it aloud almost pushed me over the edge.
"Not in the car, you're not," He answered pulling over immediately. It was funny how for such a skilled driver he braked so poorly, but the threat of puking in a car can do that to someone.
Without hesitation, Niki jogged around the front of the car, unbuckled my seat belt, and ushered me to the closet patch of grass right as I emptied the content of my stomach. I hated being this vulnerable if this was even considered that. I think I hated the fact that it had gotten this far and the one who had to deal with the consequences was not only me but more directly Niki. My mind was blank as I continued to vomit. I couldn't even recognize how much Niki was helping me.
He was whispering affirmative phrases behind me, trying as best he knew how to calm me. It wasn’t all too helpful because I could hear in his words how he cringed, but it was the thought that counted. As I slow down, I felt his warm hand on my back, unsure of whether its position was comforting or not.
My breathing was heavy, trying to make up for lost time when Niki asked me, "Do you have more?"
"I don't think so," I leaned forward and spit into the grass, pretending that it would help change the taste in my mouth.
That's when I started dry heaving. This time, however, Niki was a bit more prepared. He adjusted, also crouching down in  a position to better be by my side, his hand went to my hair, making sure every strand was out of the way in case I had more of my stomach to empty. We stayed in this position for a bit of time, every time one of us thought it had passed I'd start gagging all over again.
"Ok," I said quietly, afraid of speaking too soon, "I'm done this time."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded my head and slowly stood up with the help of Niki, wanting to leave my embarrassment behind, "Let's just go."
Niki didn't have to be told twice. He helped me back into the car and we were once again on our way. I was happy the nausea was settling down, but my stomach felt sore, a blatant reminder to never drink again. Hoping to settle it, I   put my feet up on the dashboard which clearly peeved Niki as he pushed them off and back down into the foot well. I went to do it again, but he only repeated his actions with a small glare. My boldness was resurfacing due to our little back and forth interaction. So, when Niki thought I’d put my feet back up on the dashboard, I shifted and stretched my legs out over the bench seat of the car onto and over Niki's lap.
"What are you doing?" Niki asked suspiciously as he re-positioned himself in order to drive properly.
"Getting comfortable," I continued to shift, truly making myself as comfortable as possible, "...My stomach is killing me."
I was a live wire and he knew if he said something, it would be the end. Even in my clouded mind,  I could tell he wanted to say something but refrained. As he drove, I stared at his side profile as the street lights hypnotically illuminated his face.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He glanced at me briefly.
"Were you sleeping?" I mumbled, my words still influenced by alcohol.
I noted how he took a moment to think, unsure of whether to answer truth but ultimately deciding to, "Yes."
"Are you mad?"
"No."
"Are you happy?" I continued to ask my questions. I had only started to get the ball rolling, but Niki didn't give me a response. Shifting again, I used my foot to nudge his stomach, "Niki, are you happy?"
"Yes." Yes. I wanted to ask further... why? what about? maybe who about? but I wasn't focused enough to follow up.
"Ok."
"Ok," He nodded his head as if closing out the conversation.
"Well, aren't you going to ask me?" I practically whined. I hated the way my voice sounded, but I was suddenly desperate for conversation with Niki. As much as I enjoyed Hunt's energy, it helped me realized how much I craved that with Niki.  I knew he wouldn't ask me so I decided not to ask him  another question, "You have my title."
"I have your title," He confirmed, being as neutral on the topic as possible.
"It's infuriating, I...I think I'm actually livid," I traced his face with my eyes as I worked through my feelings.
"Is that why you've been acting like this?" Niki couldn't help but let the question slip, he turned his head to look at me for as long as he could before his eyes were needed back on the road.
"'No," I answered honestly, "Winning shouldn't be your fault."
"Then what is?" He was seeking resolution.
"You went fast."
"Hunt was on my tail the entire time," He lifted his hand from the wheel as a gesture of defensiveness, "What else was I supposed to do?"
"No, the other day," I tilted my head back and forth against the window saying no, "You went fast. I don't like to go fast in cars."
This only confused him further. I thought he would have gotten it, but he was struggling to string together my thoughts. Even earlier, I expected him to get it, but there was no reason for him to.
"Ever since..." I mumbled, not finishing the sentence, "I just don't like to go fast. I can't go fast. And I told you when we first met I don't go fast. I just don't. So just don't, okay?"
Instead of responding, Niki shifted gears and lifted his foot from the clutch to the brake of the car to slow down as gently as he could, contrasting how he had just moments ago. Niki's posture relaxed as well. He allowed his arm to fully rest of my legs, while his hand now held the bottom of the steering wheel and the other placed smoothly on the gear shirt. The entire car, both inside and out, had slowed down.  He didn't know how apologize and I didn't blame him. So this was his way of doing it and our way to reconcile.
"You also lost me a lot of money."
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cazimagines · 3 years
Text
Born to be wild - Chapter 3
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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
Author’s note: This is more a filler chapter but it still had important information! We're starting to slowly get into the more interesting stuff I know you guys are craving
Warnings: Drinking, mention of drugs
Navigation
Born to be wild masterlist
Previous chapter
You had been to a fair few parties in your time, but none were truly like this.
You and Patrick had arrived together after leaving a meeting with your team about the next upcoming race. As the two of you walked in you were blown away by the atmosphere of it. It felt as if everyone involved in F1 was attending. The music was loud, making you feel like the ground was beating in time with the sound of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. People were pulling all sorts of dance moves like the hump, the robot, the disco fingers and much more. Drinks being spilt over the floor, making it sticky which people then proceeded to walk through and complain about, till they were handed another drink. The top of the hall was covered in a cloud of smoke which threatened the choke you the moment you walked in. Obviously, it was from all the joints that had been lit.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you” Patrick’s voice rung out but rather than right beside you, now his voice sounded distant and muffled. You tried to turn around to look at him but you were swept away into the swarm of people that surrounded and bumped into the two of you.
“Y/n!” that now-familiar British voice called out to you, and as you turned around on your heel again you saw James approaching you, carrying a glass of what looked to be beer in his hand but you couldn’t say for certain.
“I’m glad you could come, please let me find you a drink. Some of the other drivers are over by the couch in the left corner if you want to join them…?”
“Will do, thank you James!” you say flashing him a smile.
“Always willing help,” he replies, winking at you then walking through the crowd which parted for him like Moses and the red sea. You however didn’t have as much luck. You had to push and squirm your way through, using your elbows to jostle people out of the way until you finally managed to break out into a quieter section.
There you found a few of the drivers sitting on a couch just like James said. Carlos Reutenman, Bob Evans, Jochen Mass and Niki’s teammate Clay Regazzoni.
As Clay spots you, he waves you over, motioning to a place beside him for you to sit.
“Congratulations on 4th place, that was impressive,” he tells you and the other drivers murmur in agreeance. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” he asks, lifting himself off the seat and looking at you expectantly.
“No thanks, James said he was getting me one.”
He sits back down nodding his head, “Ah, of course. Sounds like James.”
You hesitate for a moment, realisation dawning on you, causing you to groan, rolling your eyes, “You don’t think that is James’s way of trying to seduce me do you?”
“It’s James, would you expect any less?” Jochen Mass said, chuckling as he thinks about his teammate and chucks back another drink.
“You seem to not want James to tempt you, most women might call you crazy,” Clay remarked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows.
“I don’t think I should be talking to you about other men Clay…”
“You’re the only woman who’s a driver, or really involved in F1, so who else can you talk to?”
You hesitate to answer for a moment, but sighing you knew it was right, plus it would be nice to get to know the other drivers better than you already did even if it meant talking about some awkward topics.
“Well it’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that I want to concentrate on racing more. It’s my dream and I don’t want anything to come in the way of that.”
“Well no one says you have to have a serious relationship, it’s not the 50’s anymore” Clay snorts
“Still, I worry how it might affect me.”
“You sound like Lauda. He refuses to go near any woman in case they distract him. I think he’s more in love with his car than anything else.”
Your nose wrinkled at the comparison, “Please, don’t ever compare me to that man again.”
Clay chuckled as he took in your reaction, “Yes, you and Niki have had quite the bumpy start haven’t you?”
“He’s a total asshole! From the moment he saw me he seemed to be disgusted by me and now he’s convinced I have it out for him because we ‘almost’ hit each other.”
“Well, he doesn’t get along with most people if that makes you feel better. Plus he would never hate you as much as he hates James, so that’s something.”
“I don’t want him to like me though!” you exclaim, feeling the anger heat rise within you, “I just don’t want to make any enemies or have to deal with him being an asshole!”
“Asshole? You must be talking about Lauda.”
All your eyes turn to see James approaching, two drinks in hand. He flops down onto the seat next to you, handing over one of the drinks and then instantly he starts downing the other.
“You guessed correctly. We were talking about how much he dislikes me.”
“Ah, you can’t beat me with that one. I’ve been Niki’s number one enemy for years now, I’m not giving up that title for a newcomer.”
James has you laughing and so you raise your drink to clink it with his, “Well cheers to being enemies with Niki.”
“Bottoms up,” James exclaims taking in the rest of his drink.
As you down your drink you can’t help but glance over at Clay who just gives you a knowing look, his eyebrow raised and the side of his lip pulled into a smirk. You knew exactly what he was thinking and you wanted to stop that line of thought straight away.
Yet then again it was no secret that James was attractive in all the right ways, he was funny, you enjoyed his presence and he was kind to you. You didn’t want to be caught in the James trap, you didn’t want to become yet another woman he used and then left in the dust, especially because you two would be working together. But what was the harm of having some fun every once in a while?
The rest of the room seemed to blur the more you and James drank. Clay and the other drivers appeared to slip away. For one moment you thought you might have seen Patrick but his voice was mellow and fuzzy to your ears.
You could see James however as he joined you in your binge drinking, you could feel the way he left lingered touches upon your side. How the two of you danced together in the heat of the room, hands in hands, body on body until you were looking up in his face, and he was staring intently down upon you.
His warm lips finally touched yours. It was sloppy and unorganised, both of you really being too out of it that you didn’t even notice where your lips went, just that you had the vague sense that you were kissing him. His lips were smooth, plump but his breath was stained with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes and it made you want to slink away. Which you did. He barely noticed.
You weren’t sure how you managed to coherently get a taxi back to the hotel but before you knew it your back was hitting the bed and your thoughts all drifted away from you as you slipped into a dreamless sleep.
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ay0nha · 3 years
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The Race That Launched a Thousand Ships: Part 3/?
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(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic, Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~4.5K
A/N: Finals FINALLY ended so I wrote this one a little fast (sorry, it’s a bit rushed) because I got excited, so here we go! Also, again, this is inspired by the movie, but I’m making shit up as I go and it’s going to not follow the movie in a bit. I’m also going to expand on Margot’s back story as the story goes on but here’s the intro to it, I hope it’s not confusing lol. Thank you everyone :)))) Also, I’ve been reading a lot about F1 for this and do yourself a favor check it out, it’s interesting af...Enjoy!
Oh, and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!
Taglist: @scuttle-buttle @creme-bruhlee​
Masterlist - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
--
  The weekend approached faster than I hoped it would. In the days leading up to it, I dreaded having to go out with Clay and Niki. There would no longer be a car to talk about or work on to buffer out personalities, which Niki proved the moment he sat in the passenger seat of Clay's car.
"You are family and friend to the Commendatore as long as you win," Clay complained. He had once been a part of Ferrari, but they let him go for the lack of points he was earning. I could tell he was happy to be back, but annoyed Niki was the primary reason, "The minute you don't, ciao, ciao."
"I totally understand. It's business. I would do the same." Niki stated, not bothered by the idea one bit. I'm not even sure he was capable of seeing Clay's point of view. Although I was supposed to route for Niki, deep down I wished he wouldn't place top ten just so he could be humbled.
"But it isn't just business, is it? What we do," Clay continued, hoping to pull more emotion out of Niki, "It's passion, love...which is why we are prepared to risk our lives for it."
"Not me," Niki disagree immediately, "If I had more talent and could earn better money with something else, I would."
"How do you know you will make money here?" Clay questioned his strong self-assurance, "You haven't yet."
"Not yet, but I will." Niki responded, "If you can, I can."
"Jackass," I coughed over my insult, but it didn't go unnoticed by Niki.
Clay took a moment, looking at Niki, then glancing at me in the rearview mirror, "You know, are you ever not an asshole?"
This made Niki chuckle in amusement, "Why am I an asshole?"
"Well..."
"You know, by now I'm both quicker than you and better at setting up the car." Niki said as I scoffed in the back, getting grumpier by the minute, "You can't deal with it, so you're the asshole."
"Oh, screw you," Clay said as we pulled up to the estate. Once the car was parked, he turned to Niki to say, "I brought you along today because you seem like a lonely kind of guy. I thought if I introduced you to some nice people, that could rub off on you. Forget it! Make your own friends. I'll see you inside Margot."
"Come on, Clay. I'm sorry," Niki tried lamely to apologize.
"Good going Niki," I elongated my words as I blew some hair out of my face.
"It's not like you really wanted to stay here." He turned around to look at me in the back seat, "If you did, you'd already be in there with him."
"I mean I don't have very many options at the moment," I said getting out of the car and headed to the door to let myself in, "And it's not like I'm about to steal his car."
"You could," Niki shrugged as he followed me up the green steps.
"So could you, but you-
"Sh!" Niki help up his finger as he looked past me. I questioned him only for him to tell shush me again. Starting to get annoyed I pushed his hand out of my face. But he just pushed past me "Are you leaving?"
I turned to see who he had started a conversation with. There was a beautiful woman in a white summer dress, packing her car in a hurry. There was no question whether she was leaving or not and it didn't seem like anyone could stop her.
"Yes." She responded politely but it was clear her mind was elsewhere.
"Can you give us a lift to the nearest town?" He asked as he moved towards her car, "Anywhere with a train station."
"Sure. Trento's half an hour's drive," She agreed, closing the trunk, "Get in."
There was a slight pang of guilt in my gut, but by now, Clay probably knew I wasn't going to join him. As debated on whether I should stay behind to find Clay but my feet had already carried me to the back seat. The drive itself was surprisingly pleasant, the gorgeous view only helping as we continued. It was a quiet drive, however, the only thing filling it was the woman softly singing to the radio.
Been another blue day without you, girl...
I had to admit, she could sing well. My eyes followed the passing scenery as I relaxed against the headrest in the back seat of the car. The woman drove well, she took her time to enjoy the moments of the road and the music that accompanied it.
Been another sad summer song...
The only reason my eyes left the outside was that Niki started listening a little too intently to the music, which I found ironic because anytime I'd try and play music I would be told it was too noisy and that he couldn't concentrate. It would turn into an all-day battle of the volume going up and down when one of us walked past it. Maybe because he wasn't working, he was allowing himself to enjoy one of the amenities in life.
I've been thinking about you, girl. All night long.
But I spoke too soon as Niki had already reached to turn the radio off.
"What are you doing?" The woman asked worriedly.
"You hear that noise when you accelerate?" He asked, turning his head to feel it better. I heard it the minute we left the estate, but I knew when to keep my mouth shut. We were in an everyday car, everyday cars made these noises. Sure, there could be an easy fix, but nothing detrimental to the drive.
"No." She answered honestly.
"Your fan belt is loose."
"My what?" She questioned, getting more lost by the minute.
"And when you brake, your foot goes all the way down," Niki said to her, miming the brake with his hand, "Which means there's air in the system."
"Anything else?" She asked sarcastically, Niki starting to irritate her. She had to ask, I thought.
"No," He replied, "Apart from the rear brakes are worn out, the front right tire's a bit soft, which explains why you're weaving so much."
"Hmm. How can you tell?"
"My ass."
"Oh, please," I grumbled to myself. I decided to close my eyes, hoping if I couldn't see Niki, I wouldn't be able to hear the rest of his conversation as we continued on the twisty roads.
"Sorry?" She asked in soft disbelief.
"God gave me an okay mind, but a really good ass which can feel everything in a car," He explained.
"Give it a rest," I spoke to Niki as my head swayed slightly with each bump in the road.
"You don't know what you're talking about. This car is fine. I just had service a week ago," The woman insisted, her tone trying to stay cheery as she brushed him off.
"Not a good one."
"I'm sure it was fine," I couldn't help but try again.
"Yes, a very good one, very expensive," She agreed with me, "This car is as good as new. Relax."
"He doesn't know what that means," I sniggered to myself, "Do you mind turning the music back on?"
Having the same thought process, she switched the music back on. Adjusting my head, I started to hear a very low hum, a hum that only meant Niki was right. There wasn't enough tension with the fan belt, causing it to come off its pulleys. All of the accessories powered by the engine started to slow down until the car stopped running. The three of us stayed quiet, scared if we spoke further we'd just continue to jinx the car. I couldn't see Niki's directly, but I knew his face looked smug. The car started to slow down, the woman breaking as best as the car allowed her to until we came to a smoking stop.
I was the first out of the car, immediately opening the hood to allow the smoke to clear as much as possible so I could assess the situation. As it rose into the air, I looked at our surroundings. It was just road, green pasture, and more greenery.
"When it cools off, I can see if there's anything I can do," I spoke to the rest of the group as they got out of the car.
"You're not in a hurry, are you?" The woman asked regretfully.
"No. As long as we're back in Maranello Monday morning," Niki answered.
The woman then asked Niki a question in what I presumed was German, a language that I never really did pick up. I couldn't understand what they were saying anymore but I did pick up on the fact that her name was Marlene. My body naturally tried to eavesdrop despite the language barrier. I tried to stop the way I eyed the two. I pretended to look at the car a bit while Niki stuck out his thumb for a ride, but I couldn't help but feel annoyed at how easy they were able to conversate. As their conversation continued Marlene walked to the middle of the road, strutting slightly before sticking out her hand for the next car to pass.
While she did, Niki came to stand by me to find out the verdict of the car, "And?"
"It done for," I looked up at him, squinting my eyes from the sun and my hand fanning some of the smoke out of my face. I looked over at Marlene, hoping she had made more progress than Niki had in her position, but the next car went flying past her.
That was until the car's brakes screeched and it drove in reverse back to us. Swiftly, two men exited the car and walked past Marlene completely.
"Scusa, sei Niki Lauda?" the first man asked without a greeting. Excuse me, are you Niki Lauda?
"Yes." Niki nodded.
The two men started laughing and clapping their hands together in excitement. One of them immediately went in for a hug. I instinctively took a step back, not wanting to be a part of the celebration. Marlene looked confused, so I decided to join her on the other side of the group of men.
"Hai bisogno di un passaggio?" Do you need a lift?
"Actually, we do, yeah," Niki said.
"Potresti capire l'italiano per tutto questo tempo?" I practically interrogated. I had speaking to Clay all week and I hadn't realized Niki could understand our conversations. You could understand Italian this whole time?
"It's my honor, Niki, please," The man replied, hand on Niki's shoulder, already ushering him towards his car before he had a chance to answer me.
"Thank you. Thank you."
"My car is your car," The man gushed in English, ignoring Marlene and me, "On one condition, though. It's a piece of shit. It's dog shit. But if you drive  it, you make my life, Niki, eh?"
By this point, I was regretting my decision to leave with Niki. If I had stayed behind, I'd probably still be plastering on a fake smile, but at least I wouldn't be sandwiched in the back seat of a car between two overly excited fans who only knew how to be loud.
"Niki Lauda, Niki Lauda, Niki Lauda!" The man practically squealed.  
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Marlene asked exasperated, "Who are you? Should I know you?"
"What, you don't know?" The men responded, "He's Niki Lauda, Formula One driver, and he just signed with Ferrari!"
"Him?"
"Yes."
"Impossible." I smiled at her response.
"Why?"
"Well, you know, Formula One drivers, " She started to explain, "They have long hair, are sexy, their shirts are open to here. "
"Thank you," Niki said normally. If anyone in the car knew him better, they'd know he would genuinely take something like that as a compliment.
"Yes." She smiled at him, "Anyway, look at the way he's driving, like an old man."
"There's no need to drive fast," Niki said nonchalantly, then further explained his reasoning, "It just increases the percentage of risk. We're not in a hurry. I'm not being paid. Right now, with zero incentive or reward, why would I drive fast?"
There was a beat before she leaned over to whisper to him, "Because I'm asking you to."
Niki responded in German with a low voice, much to my distaste. It was nice to hear him speak in his native tongue, but  I didn't need to understand the language they spoke to know they were flirting. Niki really knew how to choose his moments. He glanced into the mirror for a second, probably able to see me deepene my frown as far as my face could go. It looked like he went to say something, but Marlene had interrupted his thought process when she responded to him. He gave her one last looked before shifting gears and accelerating.  
"Niki," I warned, leaning forward in my seat.
Marlene let out a small gasp while the two men I was smushed between started laughing and cheering, drowning out my warning. Immediately, a wave of nausea hit me which was probably due to my head starting to spin.
"Niki!" I called for him again as I started to get nervous since his speed only increased by the second. There was no sign of him slowing down, not when he had a girl to impress and fans in the back, "Stop, Niki..."
He was dead set on impressing this girl, completely ignoring my continual requests for him to slow down. As the car started to go faster, my breathing started to pick up. I weighed my options which were to either try to swallow the bile that threatened to come up my throat or throw myself out of the car. I would have gone with the latter option if I wasn't stuck in the middle of the two Italian men. But it was too late for me to realize the third option my body decided to take which was to completely lose consciousness.
---
"So you're the secret Niki has been hiding," the infamous James Hunt strolled in as I was messing with Niki's tires, "Margot Lancaster, the woman who entered the race as a man only to disappear off the face of the planet."
"James," Niki detached himself from our area, greeting James at the opening of the garage to stop him from stepping any further. I wasn't sure if it was for my sake or to keep the secrecy of his car's make-up.
"Niki, I knew you were clever but this...this is," James continued, body language pushing the two further, back towards me, "This is the genius setting up the cars."
"And I think this is my cue to go," I pulled the gauge out, going to walk away. I was in no mood to be caught in a pissing contest neither would win.
"Don't. I'm harmless, your secret is safe with me," Hunt sent me a genuine smile. Even though he was being cheeky something about him made me believe his words. He held his hand out towards me, "James Hunt, massive fan."
I eyed him slightly. I hadn't met him formally, but I knew plenty about him by now. I've also shared a few harsh opinions  of him behind his back, so as I shook his hand I let all of it go, "Margot."
"How did you manage to agree to this?" He motioned to the setting around us, "More specifically, him."
"Niki is..." I shot him a brief glance. Niki's expression looked almost concerned with what I had to say, a look I could positively say I've never seen before but it was gone before I could overthink it, "Persistent."
"So you're telling me if I'm persistent enough, you'll come work for me," James raised his eyebrow teasingly.
"James," Niki jumped in not wanting to hear my answer, "What are you doing in here?"
"Eavesdropping," He quipped without missing a beat, causing me to conceal a small smile, "No, uh, I've come here the same reasons you have."
Qualifying for tomorrow's race had been rescheduled due to the weather. Qualifying is all about putting everything that you have and that the car has in one lap. So it was frustrating to have to wait to see how Niki would do. The  season was coming to an end quick and if Niki didn't get points on race day,  he'd still place on the podium, but he wouldn't be crowned World Drivers' Champion. Even though things were temporarily on hold until further notice, I still had my work cut out for me. Consequently, while everyone decided to use today as a day off, I stayed behind to get a jump start. However, it was obvious that while I was on my way in, Niki was on his way out, but he found a lame reason to linger for a bit longer.
"Where did he find you?" James asked leaning against the wall, getting comfortable in our conversation despite the fact it was evident that Niki wanted him gone.
"The bottom of the ocean," I joked, deciding to finish the other three tires, despite the fact that he wasn't really supposed to see me do anything to the car, "Niki's a surprisingly good swimmer."
"Seriously though," Hunt urged further, crossing his arms over his chest, "How'd he do it?"
I had been asking myself the same question nearly every day since he showed up at the shop in London. I didn't try extremely hard to hide, since the racing world honchos wanted me to stay hidden. Most people didn't care who I was, all they worried about was how my spot as world champion was no longer, allowing them to move up a place. If anyone really took the time to look for me, they could have found me, as Niki did. But no one cared about me or bothered to keep in touch. I had been completely excommunicated from the racing world within twenty four hours.  So, with the small amount of money to my name, I got as far as it would take me.
"How do you know who I am?" I asked James, not wanting the conversation to revolve around Niki more than it had to.
"How could I not, you're a legend."
"No," I laughed slightly, a little bitterness in it, "Martin Lancaster is a legend."
"I mean they hid it pretty well from the public, but you of all people should know we like to gossip."
It was hidden scarily well from the public from its inception. My helmet stayed on from the moment I arrived at the track until I was done no matter how sweaty I was. People naturally questioned it at first but placing first race after race only helped build intrigue around my image, which the team ate up.  
"We? As in drivers? I don't drive anymore. I fix cars," I held up the air gauge aimlessly, "I haven't driven since..."
"The crash..." James finished the sentence for me, with a sympathetic nod, "They shouldn't have disqualified you after that, what you-
"It's fine." I cut him off even though he was probably the first person who'd ever said that to me.
As the tabloids told it, Martin decided after his life flashed before his eyes to settle down with his childhood sweetheart and live out the rest of his days on some random European coast. When in reality I was in the hospital for months, getting dropped by my team once they found out I was a woman, claiming it had nothing to do with my gender, but with my deceit, and having my tracks expertly covered up. I tried to argue it, but ultimately they bribed a doctor to deem me no longer physically capable to drive a car, let alone cleared for an F1 car.
"Women are allowed to drive, why'd you..."
"Dress like a man?" I laughed as I finished his sentence, "How seriously do you think I would have been taken otherwise."
"More seriously than you are now," James shrugged innocently.
"Debatable." Niki finally decided to join the conversation, causing me to scowl.
"Come on Niki, show her some respect she could lap you without breaking a sweat."
"Should we put that to the test?" Niki non-characteristically challenged me. He was testing me, trying to gauge me and we both knew it. James could probably pick up on it as well.
"As entertaining as that would be..." James started to laugh, trying to liven the tension that suddenly washed over the room.
"I'm leaving, anyways." I said, putting the things in my hand down carelessly, "It was nice to finally meet you, James. Best of luck."
"No, stay I've overstayed my welcome," James kept up his enthusiasm in spite of the change in atmosphere, pushing off the wall, "I've got my own car to worry about."
With that, he began to stroll down to his teams section of the grid like he said he wanted to. The tension between Niki and I had only increased by the second. It hung in the air. It was the same air that had been filling my lungs for the past week. Niki and I had barely exchanged words outside what was necessary for work.
"I'm going to finish the tires and take the rest of day off," I mentioned out loud without looking up at Niki.
"The race is soon."
"I'm aware," I said curtly, "I've finished everything you've requested of me. So unless there's something else you need me to do then...."
"Margot-
"Is there something else you need me to do?" I repeated as I felt his eyes burn into the side of my head.
"Well, no-
"Ok then."
"What about the track, aren't you going to look at it?" The track was wet so the question was only meant as an attempt to further the conversation.
"Don't need to, they're all the same," I spoke flatly,  "Just a glorified circle."
---
"Are you crying?"
"You've got to be shitting me," I mumbled to myself, pulling the tissues from my eyes, "No, Niki, I'm not crying."
"I was hoping you were."
"That's a little sadistic don't you think."
"I was hoping you were because that I can help with," He said coming closer to me, "But this? This is your fault."
I wanted to roll my eyes, but they hurt. His idiot crew failed to mention the new chemicals they added to the car. When I initially went to look at it and move a few things around, out came a spray that went directly into my eyes. It was partially my fault for not putting on any protective gear, but I didn't think just opening part of the car would warrant for it. So now, thirty minutes into an trying to clean my eyes, Niki came strolling in.
"You should know better by now."
"If you're going to nag me..." I started, but then I noticed how he began to push of his sleeves and walk towards the sink, turning on the water, "I can do this myself."
"So you can see?" He asked as he scrubbed his hands. Each blink burned more and more and my vision was still slightly blurred, but I wasn't about to prove his point.
"You've got light blistering on your right rear tire, the front wing  is damaged, and your breaks keep locking and I can't figure out why," I  directed towards Niki as he continued to wash his hands, "So if what you're  about to say has nothing to do with any of these extremely pressing   matters, I don't want to hear it, because I'm busy."
"I'm here to help you," He said evenly while he patted his hands dry, "And I doubt those tissues and your dirty hands are helping. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you’re back to the car."
I ignored him, continuing to blot with the paper towels, even though he was  right. I wanted him to leave so I could handle it myself, but I didn't form the words to tell him that. Instead, I waited for him to come to me.
"Here, come here," Niki offered, but his tone was more of a command. I  stayed in my position, my eyes burning as I tried to make them look as normal as possible. Since I didn’t move, Niki took the helpless paper towel from my hand and threw them away. Then he went back towards the sink for the wash cloth he had prepped, "Tilt back."
"Niki-
"Be quiet," He said, squeezing the excess water out of the clean cloth before coming over to me, “and tilt your head back.”
I followed his instructions, my eyes no longer being able to deal with the burning sensation. I closed them as he wiped the surrounding area gently. His touch was tentative, acting like if he made one wrong move I'd run off. However, as he continued, he gripped my chin firmly, turning it when he needed to make sure that he got everywhere he had to. His hand was warm on my skin and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.  It was a comforting touch, something that helped soothe the discomfort in my eyes, but it was creating a weird feeling in the middle of my chest. As my eyes burned less and less, I blinked away the water from Niki's washcloth. Finally being able to see him, I could see the look in his eye. It was a look I'd never seen on him before, I didn't recognize it and I couldn't decipher it. He scanned my eyes, not only to see if I was feeling better, but to try and read my mind to see if we shared the same thoughts. I had almost let him.
"Alright,  that's enough," I pulled my chin out of his hand a bit flustered. I cleared my throat, "Go tell your idiot crew that you can't make that concoction again because when it gets hot they bind and get sticky and when it gets sticky I get pissed."
"You're not focused," Niki said softly, bypassing my comment and staying close to me.
"I am-
"No, you're off. You're not focused and I need you focused," He continued, his tone more gentle than I was used to, "If you had shown up to qualifying yesterday, you would have known what we changed."
"Since when do you listen to them and not me?"
"Since you stopped talking to me." He answered earnestly.
"Maybe I should put on a nice dress and speak German-
"What?"
"Forget it," I tried to brush it off, not quite understanding why I said what I said. It just came out before I even realized what I was saying, "I'll fix it, but next time a heads up would be nice."
"No-
"Margot! Metto quarantacinque su Hunt!" Clay bellowed walking in to see Niki and I rip apart as if we got caught doing something we shouldn't have, "Oh, Niki..."  I'm putting forty-five on Hunt.
"Are you two placing bets?" Niki’s intonation was back to normal.
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ay0nha · 3 years
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The Race That Launched a Thousand Ships: Part 5/?
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(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic,  Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.  
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~3K
A/N: This is a semi-FILLER because ironically enough my car broke down and I’ve been stranded at my cousins apartment.  VERY long story short, I left my phone in the tow truck and just got it back and wrote this on it so please mind the errors lol. Anyways, this chapter is inspired by the fact I wish Niki could fix my car, it has nothing to do with that, but still. Enjoy!
And if you want to be tagged let me know :)) (I hope I got everyone, since I’m on my phone, I didn’t have the og list from my laptop, so bug me again if I missed you!)
Inspired by THIS POST (go take a peek, you won’t regret it!)
Taglist: @scuttle-buttle @creme-bruhlee @hardlyinteresting @ginger-abreu  @livvyshmiv​ @eater-of-corn @apparrio @whatawildone @greeneyedblondie44 @fictionlandslanddreams
Masterlist - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
"What are you doing here?"
"Don't act so surprised to see me here,"  I smiled when I saw Niki approach me, then asked a rhetorical question, "I work with the team don't I?"
I truly tried to stop the smile from spreading even further on my face. However, it had been a few weeks since the last time I'd seen Niki. With the mark of 1975 racing season officially over, that entailed the winter break. The break was intended for rest, recovery, and some off-season training, however, this time was also reserved for a mountain of charity events. I had always hated the in-between, the impatient waiting before I could properly feel the rush again. I knew Niki related to this like no other. This was our element and it was hard to leave it behind even for a day.
"I stood up Clay last time," I answered sincerely this time, crossing my legs in my seat at the bar to create some room for Niki to stand, "Didn't really have the heart to do it to him again."
"Such a people pleaser."
"It's called being polite," I countered as he just rolled his eyes away from me.
It was partially me being polite, however, the drive could be found in my curiosity about the event itself. I'd been invited to a handful before, as Martin Lancaster of course, but every time I'd decline, never show up, and for some wasn't even invited. Regardless, I'd never been able to fully indulge in the championship life no matter how much I wanted to. So when Clay offered to take me as his plus one, I tried to be as blasé as possible when in reality I was buzzing to attend the brunch. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it, all the podium places schmoozing and giving speeches about the 'toughest season yet' and the wealthy teams showing off their drivers to the people rich enough to attend hoping they'd write a hefty check. That's exactly why I became the fly on the wall near the bar, experiencing the world I'd once been a part of from an intimate distance as if crossing it off a bucket list.
"You look...strange," Niki's bluntness pulled me back to his demanding presence.
"Niki, you have such a way with words," I blinked a few times, feigning amazement to cover my insecurity under his gaze,  "Truly, it's awe-inspiring."
I knew I looked different and I didn't need Niki to tell me that. Him making that comment only fueled the self-consciousness I felt on the way over here. I couldn't remember the last time I wore a dress, let alone something as feminine and floral as this one.  It was brunch-appropriate and oil-stain-free, something that would help me blend in, but it felt so strange and foreign on my body.
"You look strange," I started the conversation again lamely. He too was dressed more casually, but he looked good as much as I'd hate to admit. But he looked strange in this setting, not quite belonging in the same way as the others. The difference between our strangeness was that he did this to himself on purpose. He didn't want to be here and he would never actively choose to be, but I knew it had to be contractual of some sort.
"You prefer my other suit?" Niki asked. His tone took the same form as my previous rhetorical question, however, there was a hint of something new in it that I decided not to question, but to argue.
"No-
"I wasn't asking," His eyes were nowhere but on my own.  
"Then you have some assumptions," I started to glare slightly. For some reason, one that was still a little hazy for me, Niki had been acting different since his win and my drunken night. I expected the days, even weeks following to be awkward, angry, bitter. They were anything but. Niki was more curious now, overall more thoughtful and lighter in his spirit. I chalked it up to his win, anyone in their right mind would be like that after a win. But now, as Niki carried this win with him, he was proving it wasn't just that.
"Are they wrong?"
"Severely."
"Shame," He flirted softly, then gestured towards the bartender behind me for a drink of his own.
I took it as an opportunity to study his expression a little closer than usual. He even looked surprised at his words impulsivity. I  took a small sip from my drink to stop myself from revealing any of my own secrets. I almost threw the entire thing back, but I wouldn't let myself get caught in the trap of bottomless mimosas.  When Niki finally received his own drink he took a few steps forward to receive and to thank the bartender. I thought he'd take those same steps back, but he remained within a short arms reach of me. He sipped what looked like water, ever responsible of him, and surveyed the area around us in our secluded corner. He began shifting his weight on his feet, back and forth, once again, shuffling forward slightly. These few steps were no longer in the realm of my personal bubble as he burst it with a few more steps. I couldn't help but start to get confused about why he had gotten so close, especially since I  thought he would have left me to sit alone at the bar by now.
"Niki, you're starting to smother me," I said pushing him back slightly by the shoulder, the touch automatically making me feel awkward. I added a light flit of laughter in an attempt to seem less stiff with my statement, "I can barely  reach my drink without hitting you with my arm."
"I am not trying to," He  squirmed slightly, coming even closer than he had if that was even  possible, "Only trying to give the caterers room when they pass."
"Whatever," I mumbled, trying to lose his attention before he saw how his proximity made my face warm.
But I was too late, he had already seen how my cheeks tinged pink. So before he could say anything I went on to complain.
"Niki, you're doing it  again," I fussed as he was starting to block my view of the emcee of the  event, "How am I supposed to see what's going on?"
"Don't worry I'll tell you if anything interesting happens..."
"You're not even facing the right way! Now move," I tried again to laugh at the situation and once again moving  to physically push him but only being met with resistance, "What, wait-  Are you blocking me on purpose?"
"No."
"Lying isn't your strong suit, Niki."
"Fine," He caved after a few beats. Annoyed with himself he continued to explain,  "Those people are looking over here.."
I glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, there were a group of tabloid vultures ready to find any roadkill. I frowned a bit, shrinking behind Niki's body again for the moment. I remained confused as to why Niki was acting so cryptic about it, "Alright, so let them look, we can't control their eyeballs."
"I'm not sure that you want those people to know that you're here," He pointed out, "They've already begun spinning a story."
My mind wasn't preoccupied with whether or not they would know who I was, at this moment I couldn't care less as I was too focused on how when Niki was talking I could feel his warm breath next to my ear and on my neck as he leaned over to grab my drink to hand to me without asking. However, the thought of thinking I'd be written up as Niki's arm candy was another thing.
"I'm going to go say something," I started to get up from the high chair, but Niki refused to move. He blocked my legs from even thinking about swinging down to the floor.
"There's no need." He went as far as to reach for my legs and gently push them back to their previous position.
"What does that mean?"  I  searched his face for an answer. I was quick to find one, "You already  said something and that's why you're over here."
"Something like that," He brushed his nose as if it covered up his response. His arm came to rest behind my chair now, practically encircling me and excluding me from the outside world.
"And let me guess, by doing so you've made it worse." His silence answered my previous statement, "Seriously Niki?"
"It wasn't my intention..."
"Then what was?" I asked him but he just let me continue with my next comment, "And here I thought you wanted to keep me company."
"Sorry to disappoint,” He gestured with his hands, but the one behind me brushed my shoulder slightly.
Niki was an intentional man, everything thought out and if it wasn’t, still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns, he knew what he was doing. His touches were brief and fleeting, but they were there. Experimenting and learning how I would squirm under it. He was testing the waters with me, completely unafraid of exploring waters that he didn’t know the depth of.
"Don't you want to know which team will receive the most funding? Enzo won't be happy if it's not Ferrari,” I shivered as his hand left me.
"No," He answered readily, "All that affection, all those smiles, is a sign of disrespect."
"Disrespect?" I couldn't help but laugh which caused a small smile to appear on Niki's face, "You know what Niki? This is probably the first thing you've said that I  agree with."
He gave me a look to tell me he thought I was just entertaining him.  
"I'm serious. You're right, all the fake smiles, don't get me started on the charities they pick," I scoffed at the idea of the cherry-picked event,  "Fuck dying children, you know?"
"Maybe I should call those reporters over." His lightness was back in an instant.  
"Niki don't look at me like that!" My face burned in what I thought was embarrassment, but I knew better than that, "Not 'fuck dying children'. I'm not heartless...It's more like...'fuck, the dying children'..."
"Because that makes it so much better."
I  was feeling a warmth in my chest that felt strange yet familiar. Niki was different today and him being different made me different. Again, to his advantage, he had nothing to worry about since he had already won and he was in that sweet spot of time where he had a break before starting the next season. But today it seemed like more than that. Something more than he wasn't telling me. Something more  I've been trying to avoid. But the sun hit a little warmer today than before making it that little bit harder to disregard.
"I should go find Clay." I avoided Niki's suddenly heavy gaze.
"I'm sure he's missing your company," Niki made no effort to move, and for the first time neither did I.
"I think I could get away with one more drink."
"Another mimosa?"
"Please."
---
"Welcome back!"
Niki didn't have a second to react before the massive bottom of champagne was poured down his back by the Ferrari team.  As fast as they did it, they ran off in case Niki decided to angrily charge after him. If they knew him any better they would know he'd just stew with anger, which he was already getting a jump start on.
"Don't look at me like that," I put my hands up in defense, at Niki's solid glare, "I didn't know they were going to do it."
It was my idea. I was afraid if I fessed up, we'd stop talking again and that was the last way I wanted to go into the new Grand Prix season. We needed to be on the same page, but I was still going to have my fun.  I laughed as he continued to wipe the sticky liquid from his eyes. While he complained, I took the opportunity to grab one of the towels from the stack for him to dry off with.
"This is not funny," He objected once again as my laughter didn't stop, "I have only just arrived and-
"Here," I threw the towel over his head and started to ruffle his hair through it. This unexpected action for both parties caused Niki to stumble forward slightly, bumping into me. The light touch reignited my laughter once again, another wave of entertainment to ride.
"Margot," I thought I could hear a laugh starting to break through Niki's voice as he said my name. Then he grabbed my wrists to stop my actions. I ruffled his hair one last time and wiped his face gently before fully revealing it. Only then did I start to pull back the towel, could I make out the real reason he said my name.
My actions slowed down exponentially, the towel still in my now nervous grip. If I let go, I wasn't sure I could trust myself enough to know what I'd do next. Niki, though, seemed to be one step ahead of me, trusting himself a bit more in his actions. His grip on my wrists was still firm as he pulled me forward by them, causing the air we breathed to mingle. A once humorous moment quickly turned into something much more intimate than it intended to be.  It was always a look here, a glance there, a something I thought I had looked too far into that I brushed off.  But now, while Niki's hooded eyes flickered between my own and my lips I knew we were on the same page. When he started to lean in a bit further, our lips only a centimeter away from each other, that's then when I snapped back into reality. I pulled my hands back to my chest so I could create some distance between Niki and me, it all becoming a little too much for me to handle.
The butterflies and the blush caught up to me as I walked around the car to make as much distance between us as I could. I couldn't look up at Niki, but I could still see him standing right where he was. I refused to look up so I found comfort in the only thing that could provide me comfort.
"I came in a few days ago, to get started on your car," I was surprised I even had a voice, "The new parts came in, so your tires should be better than your last, and I'm still waiting on the alternator, but we've got time, and uh, and you, you uh were going to kiss me..."
I trailed off with a quiet, nervous sigh. I knew I'd be met with silence, so I dared to glance up at Niki. He too was avoiding my gaze. He used the corner of the towel the wipe across his mouth as if wiping away our nonexistent kiss. Before I had the chance to look away, his eyes locked with mine.
"I was."
"Don't," I looked back down at the car.
"Why not?" He shrugged, not seeing the problem.
"Why not?" I repeated his question with a dry laugh, "I didn't even want to do this," I pointed to the car now, "But here I am. So I'm definitely not doing this." I pointed between him and me now. I looked at him, already regretting my words. His expression looked guilt-ridden, "Niki-
"You don't need to do this," He took a few steps forward to the car, "I'll rip up the contract, it's the start of the season anyways."
"No, you're not going to mess this up," I knew he hadn't meant it as an ultimatum, only responding to my comment, but I wanted him to know where I stood and that I wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon, "I just don't do racers. You guys are nothing but bad news-
"You taught yourself how to drive you taught yourself how to do all of this you got yourself to first place don't you ever want someone there to acknowledge your accomplishments?" Niki asked his question over me.  His response told me he was well prepared for this conversation. Clearly, something he's already given thought to.
He was starting to know me a little too well for my liking, he knew exactly what u wanted as if he read it from my diary.  
"You are not that. You don't want to be that," I tried to reason, "You just think that you want this because of my....position...I'm a girl who fixes your car, I may as well bring you a beer."
He gave me an amused look as if saying don't flatter yourself. It was a bit ironic since he and I were pretty on par with each other. However, this wouldn't be the first time someone was attracted to me purely out of the fact I fit into a main, stereotypical male fantasy; women and cars. I was just another commodity that they wanted. I refused to put myself in that position after everything I had been through, no matter how much I wanted to.
"It's just misplaced feelings you're feeling right now so please, just-" I couldn't finish the sentence anymore, "Look, go get yourself cleaned up, I'll start with the car and..."
"And what, huh? Pretend that we weren't both leaning in for the same thing?"
"Yes."
"Margot."
"Niki."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you hate me, hate this," He was now at the car. I hadn't even noticed the steps he had taken to get here, "Because you don't-
"Don't,” I held up my hand as a warning, “Make something out of nothing.”
"Nothing...right," He inhaled a quick short breath through his nose to act as if he was unbothered.
But I'd never seen him so bothered before. At least not like this. Sure he'd be bothered by some of the FIA rules or the errors people would make, he would be bothered though but now he was upset. His hand was running through his hair, his usually collected mannerisms now frazzled, and his stance slightly awkward and unsure of what to do next. I tried throughout the break to bury anything Niki related and now with him standing in front of me, I knew I had messed up. I had jinxed myself. I had put myself back at square one.
"Now, go clean yourself up and I'll get the others to help fit you to the cockpit."
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