rivals || ln4
summary: 3rd year super star y/n y/l/n is locked in a championship battle with her teammate, lando norris, that is headed straight to abu dhabi
pairing: lando norris x rival!driver!reader
fc & warnings: bad language, hate comments, slightly suggestive
a/n: LANDOOOOOO WORLD CHAMPIONNNNN!! i been sitting on this one for a while. sorry my friends
masterlist
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
ynuser
liked by mclaren, lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux, liamlawson30, isackhadjar and 634,284 others
ynuser: don’t call, i’m busy!
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user1: models should be happy you chose to be an f1 driver
mclarenf1: icon
user2: you better be busy cooking up that qatar win y/n/n
alexandrasaintmluex: 😍😍
isackhadjar: wow
user3: y/n/n listen to me , i need you to lock in!! you need to win this championship
yourbff: prettiest girl to ever girl
user5: taking cute pics to mask the pain of the double dsq... i get it girl
✿
you walked into media day in qatar with your head held high, shoulders squared, expression calm even if your pulse wasn’t. the paddock buzzed the moment you stepped through the turnstile, eyes and cameras tracking you the same way they always did.
you were currently second in the championship. close enough to lando to taste it and so close to max you were able to feel him breathing down your neck. the numbers were tight and unforgiving as you were constantly reminded. one bad weekend could undo everything and one perfect one could change your life.
you adjusted your black dress as your heels clicked along the pavement, the familiar weight of the championship standings sitting heavy between your shoulder blades. vegas was still very much in the back of your mind as mclaren’s double disqualification had put both you and lando in a pretty tight spot bringing max completely back into the mix.
you already knew the questions the media had before they were asked.
does this take you out of the fight? are there going to be team orders between you and lando? is max a bigger threat than you given what happened in vegas? how does it feel knowing the championship could be decided by a technicality?
exhaustion tugged at you, not the physical kind but the mental fatigue that came with being analyzed, dissected, doubted and measured every waking moment. every word you said today would be twisted into headlines by nightfall and you were truthfully getting sick of it. as much as you loved racing you were ready for the season to be over so that you could finally have a moment to breath.
✿
f1 has made a post
liked by mclaren, ynuser, user1, yourbff, lando, monsterenergy, dior, iamrebeccad and 654,565 others
f1: y/n y/l/n takes pole in qatar!!! following a strong sprint race win it seems like this weekend is a strong return to form for the mclaren driver. all to play for tomorrow!
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user1: THATS MY GOAT
yourbff: thats right! she never left! lets GO 🗣️
user2: im so scared for turn 1.. no one look at me
mclaren: LETS GO Y/N 🧡
user9: undeserved. i wish she would just give up already
dior: our beautiful ambassador 😍
✿
as if max jumping past you into turn one hadn’t already felt like a punch to the gut, the pit wall managed to twist the knife even deeper. the safety car came out and you knew it was the perfect window. the entire grid dove into the pits and you waited for the call that never came. a lap ticked by and the realization sank, in they were leaving both of you out and completely giving up the safety car pit advantage.
by the time racing resumed, the damage was done. positions were lost and the momentum was gone. a race that had been firmly in your hands ended up being reduced to yet another team blunder.
it took every ounce of discipline you had not to break in the post race interviews. “speechless. honestly, i’m completely speechless,” you said, again and again, each time sounding more hollow than the last. “the pace was mega today. the result… it wasn’t really in my control.” you repeated it until it stopped sounding like disappointment and started sounding like pure resignation.
back in your driver room, the second the door shut behind you, the composure fell away. you tore out of your race suit with frustrated movements, fingers trembling as adrenaline finally bled into exhaustion. you pulled on your team kit from earlier in the day, shoved your helmet into your bag and started gathering your things as quickly as possible to get out of there before you broke down completely.
then came the knock on your door and you didn’t even think before reacting. “i told you i’m done,” you snapped, yanking the door open. “i’m not talking about the goddamn strategy anymore,” the words died in your throat.
lando stood on the other side of the door, shoulders slumped, eyes rimmed with exhaustion, looking nothing like the golden-boy the cameras loved. he looked just as wrecked as you felt. “i don’t want to talk strategy,” he said quietly, staring down at the carpet. then, softer, he mumbled, “i just miss you.”
you shook your head immediately, glancing down the corridor on instinct. “not here,” you said firmly. “not with media lurking everywhere," you hesitated only a second before adding, “meet me at the hotel. room 14001.”
the ride back to the hotel felt endless. your thoughts betrayed you the entire way, drifting back through 2 years of late nights and blurred lines, of comfort offered when races went wrong, of familiarity that had always been easy and dangerous in equal measure. you and lando had been off and on for so long it almost felt permanent... until this season forced you to confront what you were really risking. because now he wasn’t just your teammate. he was your rival. calling him after a bad race used to feel natural but now it felt like crossing a line.
back in your room, you changed slowly, opting for comfort. soft pajama pants sitting low on your hips and an old mclaren crop top you probably shouldn’t still own. you paced once, then twice, nerves buzzing beneath your skin as you replayed the moment he’d said he missed you.
the knock came softer than you expected and you didn’t answer right away. you stood there for a second, staring at the door.
when you findally opened it, lando lingered in the doorway with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, hair still damp from the shower, eyes searching your face.
“hi,” he said quietly.
you stepped aside, “come in.”
the door clicked shut behind him, sealing you both into the small, charged space. for a moment, neither of you moved. the room felt too warm, too quiet, the air thick with everything you’d been pretending not to feel all season. “this is a bad idea,” you said first, arms folding over your chest.
he nodded, “yeah.”
“we’re fighting for a championship lan.”
“i know.”
“and we agreed!”
“i didn't agree to anything,” he cut in, lifting his eyes to yours. "i stopped calling only because you told me to.”
you exhaled sharply, turning away, pacing once before spinning back around. “you don’t get to show up like this, lando. not after today. not after everything in this past season.”
his jaw tightened “i didn’t come here to make it harder. i know this isnt an easy situation and hell, i wish it wasn't like this! i wish we weren't fighting tooth and nail against each other and i wish we weren't teammates and i wish it wouldn't be a media frenzy if people found out about us!! I wish everything was different, y/n/n!”
he took a step closer slowly, like he was scared to approach. “i watched you today. i watched you lose something that should’ve been yours and all i wanted to do was comfort you and tell you it was going to be ok but i couldn't and honestly, i shouldn't even have wanted to do that. you're trying to take my title.”
you laughed bitterly, “we did this to ourselves.”
“maybe,” he said. “but that doesn’t mean our feelings don't matter.”
the silence stretched again and you could hear his breathing now, steady but close. too close. “i don’t want to fight with you,” you admitted. “i don’t have it in me tonight. we do enough fighting on track and in the strategy briefings.”
he hesitated, then reached out, stopping just short of touching you, “then don’t.”
you looked at his hand. then at his face. the space between you collapsed without either of you deciding to move first. his forehead rested against yours, your hands finding his hoodie, fingers curling like muscle memory. it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t desperate. it felt like coming home. his breath brushed your cheek, “we don’t have to define anything,” he murmured. “just let me be here with you.”
you nodded, eyes closing as you leaned into him. the world outside, the points, the pressure, the rivalry all fell quiet as he lead you to the bed.
✿
ynuser has made a post
liked by mclaren, kimiantonelli, georgerussell63, alexandrasaintmluex, lewishamilton, lando and 843,245 others
ynuser: its time for the last dance! no matter what happens, im proud of this team and i'm proud of myself and i'm so so so thankful for each one of you who have cheered for me each race weekend. i love you all 🧡 lets get after it 🏆
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yourbff: i am so proud of you beautiful girl 😘
ynuser: thank you my love
user1: this season has been such a treat. thank you for representing all of us girls
mclaren: second row start for our girl 💪🏻
user2: even if you don't win tomorrow, i'm so proud to b your fan 🧡
lando: great season so far y/n/n
ynuser: you too
user4: y'all seeing this???
user5: most talented and pretty girl in f1
✿
you stared blankly at the scuffed white wall of the cool down room while max filled the silence with a running commentary of the race. his voice blurred into background noise, each word drowned out by the reel playing relentlessly in your head of every missed opportunity, every fraction of a second lost, every strategy call that had been completely out of your hands.
you hadn’t stopped thinking since the chequered flag. about the safety car that never worked in your favor, about the radio messages with team orders that still rang in your ears and about how close you’d been, close enough to taste it, only to watch it all slip away.
you needed this moment to be over. needed to get out of the suffocating race suit clinging to your skin, to get as far away from this track and this sport as you possibly could, if only for a little while. but first, you had to stand on a podium you’d dreamed of your entire life and somehow survive watching someone else get the thing you dared to believe might be yours.
“y/n?” max’s voice cut through your thoughts, sharper this time.
you blinked, eyes refocusing, “sorry, what?”
he glanced at you, a small frown pulling at his mouth, “i asked if you’re excited for winter break.”
excited. the word felt wrong but you nodded anyway because it was easier than explaining the hollow feeling sitting in your chest. especially because you knew this room was bugged and everyone was currently watching your every move live on their tvs.
before max could say anything else, the door opened and lando stepped inside. your shoulders stiffened instantly as someone announced that it was almost time for the podium and you adjusted the hat on your head without looking up. you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes yet. you knew what you’d see there, the relief, joy, pride and while a part of you truly wanted to be happy for lando, the disappointment in how your season ended was too fresh to ignore.
the walk to the podium felt unreal like your body was moving on autopilot while your mind lagged behind. “and in second place, y/n y/l/n!”
you forced a small wave to the crowd as you stepped out, the usual roar of applause would have invigorated you but today it fell a bit short. you took your place on the second step, hands clasped tightly in front of you. this was supposed to be an honor but it really just felt like punishment.
when the trophy was placed in your hands, the weight of it nearly broke you. your eyes stung as you fought the urge to let it show.
after everyone had been given their trophies, you grabbed the champagne, shook it once out of obligation and sprayed it in lando’s direction for a few brief seconds before setting the bottle down again. it was half-hearted at best but you didn’t have it in you for more.
the photos passed in a blur with a smile you barely held and flashes you barely noticed. the second it was over, you grabbed your trophy, your champagne bottle and disappeared. you didn’t wait and certainly didn’t look back. you practically ran straight off the podium and down the corridor toward your driver’s room.
your best friend was in your drivers room waiting for you and they were slightly out of breath indicating that they had ran back to meet you. they stood with their arms open wide and you didn’t hesitate before stepping into them, gripping onto the fabric of their shirt like it was the only thing keeping you upright. “i know,” they murmured, holding you tight as you sobbed, “i know.”
and for the first time, you let yourself feel the entire weight of the disappointment that had been growing since azerbaijan.
✿
f1gossip has made a post
liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, and 22,321 others
f1gossip: well this certainly was not on our bingo card! y/n was spotted at the same club where lando was celebrating his first ever f1 championship win. multiple sources say ln1 looked very comfortable with our papaya princess , think dancing, laughing and zero personal space on the dance floor. to make things even juicier, an unconfirmed source claims the 2 were seen leaving together 👀
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user1: all black bc she mourning her loss
user2: god she is truly stunning
user9: oh this feels a little desperate on her part woof
user3: aint no one looking at that man!
user4: ohhhhhhhhh y/nlando is maybe the most elite pairing id die to have them as a couple
user5: rivals to lovers would hit so hard
✿
“and our third-place finisher in the formula 1 drivers’ championship and the highest placed woman in the history of the sport, y/n y/l/n!”
over the past week, you’d finally let yourself sit with how you’d done and found peace with the result. not just with the podiums or the points but the months you’d led the championship, the races you’d fought tooth and nail in and the mistakes you’d learned from. you had single handedly written history by proving that you and every other woman alike belonged here in motorsports. you also found comfort in lando, in his winning the championship and in his friendship (or whatever this was).
you took the microphone, steady despite the rush in your chest as you felt the room full of eyes focus on you. “thank you! thank you so much,” you began, scanning the crowd. “i’m incredibly grateful to be standing here tonight. to be constructors’ champions for the second year in a row, and now third in the world, it means more than i can put into words.”
you paused, breathing in once. “to mclaren and my team, thank you for giving me an incredible car and the right tools to fight every single weekend. to my friends, my family, and my fans... this one’s for you.” you paused for a moment, looking down at the trophy in your manicured hand. “and of course,” you added, hesitating half a beat too long to be accidental, “i’d be remiss if i didn’t congratulate my teammate lando on his championship.”
you smiled, taking in the crowd in front of you, “thank you.”
the applause swelled again as you stepped back, heart still racing, just as the lights dimmed and the music surged. fireworks lit up the stage as the new world champion emerged, the crowd erupting in cheers. lando looked impossibly composed in his perfectly tailored suit with curls falling just right. you watched as he accepted the trophy, fingers wrapping around it like he’d always known this moment was coming.
he brought the microphone to his lips. “good evening everyone. um wow. where do i even start?” he laughed softly, glancing around the room before his eyes found yours.
“i’ll start with these guys,” he continued, gesturing to andrea and zak. “a huge congratulations and thank you to mclaren, the team i’ve been with for so many years, for giving us an incredible car. a car that, at times, made our lives very easy and very beautiful.” the crowd laughed, “it allowed us to fight, to win and to bring it home right to the end of the season.”
then he turned fully toward you. not to andrea and zak. not the cameras. you.
you offered him a small smile, something warm and genuine and a little fragile. “and of course,” he said, voice steady but softer now, “miss y/l/n, an incredible teammate. someone who’s pushed me, challenged me and helped me improve more than she probably knows over the last three seasons.”
your chest tightened. “you helped make us the team we are. helped turn us into a team capable of winning two constructors’ championships back to back.” he smiled, warm and bright. “and y/n/n… you definitely didn’t make my life easy.”
laughter rippled through the crowd as butterflies danced in your stomach.
“we’ve had one hell of a rivalry,” he continued, “and i’m,” he paused, exhaling through another smile, “i’m really proud of you.”
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
a/n: thanks for reading babes. likes and reblogs always appreciated xoxo
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
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