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thousand-surface-beat · 22 days

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of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb

inspired by this request ! i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.

The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend

"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."

"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"

"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."

You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.

"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."

"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."

Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.

"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"

"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.

As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.

Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.

You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.

"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"

"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"

"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."

"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"

You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.

"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."

"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."

Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.

"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"

"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"

"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."

"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."

"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"

"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."

"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.

"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.

As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.

"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.

"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed

"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."

"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"

"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."

"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."

"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.

"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."

"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."

"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."

"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."

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thousand-surface-beat · 24 days

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welcome to miami

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando wins miami, and you're there to see it happen (2.1k)

a/n: had to crank this one out for lando's first win 🧡 i'm still buzzing with excitement and pride omg

You’d decided to fly out to Miami on a whim, really.

The last race you’d gone to had been a whole ordeal for you. The airline had nearly lost your luggage, Lando’s request for your paddock pass hadn’t gone through in time so you had to sit outside for hours until things got sorted out, just a few of the many things that definitely weren’t great.

But all things aside, Lando had done great in the race and you were there to witness him in his element—something you’d always love to see.

With all the chaos that seemed to come with the Miami Grand Prix, Lando assured you he’d understand if you wanted to sit this one out. You really were planning to stay behind, honest to god. But when you’d wished him luck and kissed him goodbye before he left for Miami, something in you shifted.

Something was telling you to go, to be there for him in the flesh, even though it could get crazy and it was definitely a little bit out of your comfort zone. But your love for your boyfriend spanned far and beyond, so you did it.

The unfortunate thing about the last minute planning was that your flight landed at the same time the race began. Between the mad scramble to make your redeye and confirm things like your pass and credentials when you got to the track, you’d forgotten to actually tell Lando you were coming.

By the time you’d touched down in Miami, it was far too late. You’d have to settle for surprising him afterwards.

You arrived at the paddock a little over halfway through the race, collapsing into an armchair at McLaren hospitality with the biggest sigh known to man. Your neck ached, your feet were killing you, you were starving and it was too damn hot here in Miami.

Maybe you could go grab some food in a second, but right now you were so exhausted you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d fallen asleep right there and then.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice drew you out of your stupor a while later, and you looked up to see Oscar’s girlfriend Lily staring back, a mix of confused and glad to see you. “Oh my god, you’re here! Lando said you weren't coming, he’s going to be so happy to see you!”

“Yeah, it was a last minute thing, honestly. Lando doesn't even know I’m here.”

“You must be on the edge of your seat right now.”

“Sorry?”

Lily nodded over your shoulder. “He’s winning. Lando’s leading the race, look.”

Suddenly you were wide awake, previous fatigue gone and forgotten as you spun around to look at one of the big screens showing the race. Lo and behold, there Lando was, holding steady at the front of the pack a good few seconds ahead of Max’s RedBull.

“Holy shit.” You blinked a few times in disbelief, because maybe you were seeing things, but nothing changed. Lando was still P1 with only a handful of laps to go. “Holy shit!”

“He’s gonna do it, Y/N. Lando’s gonna win.” Lily promised, squeezing your hand tightly.

And she was right.

The entire McLaren portion of the paddock erupted into deafening cheers the moment Lando sped past the waving checkered flag, you included. You were cheering so loud you felt your ears start to ring.

People were jumping around with each other left and right, folks you didn’t know hugging you and congratulating you on Lando’s win. It was odd, because you weren’t the one who’d won, it was your boyfriend, but you accepted the praise nonetheless.

He’d done it. For the first time in his career, Lando had won. All the hard work, all the long days and sleepless nights, all the time and energy and training the entire team had put in to make a dream a reality had finally paid off.

It felt like a sort of out-of-body experience for you, watching Lando throw himself across the barrier into his team, seeing him up on the top step of the podium with his first P1 trophy. Part of it didn’t feel real, but it was.

You could hardly sit still while you waited for Lando and the rest of the team to return to the paddock. Of course he had to do a couple post-race interviews, the podium press conference, all that stuff, but you could stick it out. All would be worth it to see the look on his face when he saw that you were here instead of back home.

It was only fitting that you heard them all coming before you saw them. Cheering, chanting, you even heard some singing going on, and then there he was. He was nothing but smiles all around as you watched him break away from the others and pull out his phone.

It took everything you had in you not to yell out his name. Instead, you video called him with shaky hands, waiting eagerly for him to pick up. He answered immediately, his gleefully smiling face filling your screen.

“Hi, I won!” He exclaimed, beaming so big and bright his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I won Miami!”

“I know! I’m so proud of you, Lan!”

“I really wish you were here to see it, but it’s alright. Everything is so crazy here, I—” He stopped in his tracks as soon as he glanced back down at his screen, bringing the phone so close to his face you could only see one of his eyes and the fading cut across his nose.

“What’re you doing, bub?” You laughed, feigning cluelessness.

“Where are you? It’s…” His nose scrunched adorably as he tried to calculate the time difference in his head. “Eleven at night back home, why is it bright out on your end?”

“Maybe I’m not at home.” You shrugged, angling your own phone towards the McLaren logo behind you casually. “Maybe I’m…”

“No. What the fuck? Are you—” He cut himself off a second time, squinting at his phone. It was funny, watching his head whip up both on your screen and from where you were standing, even funnier when he clocked you instantly and all but threw his phone off to the side as he broke out in a full on sprint towards you. “Holy fuck, you’re here! How—what—” Lando was so shocked he couldn’t even finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to.

You let him all but tackle you around the waist, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he spun you around a few times. He was hot and sticky with champagne and smelled like sweat and gasoline, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond proud of him you couldn’t even put it into words. Not bursting into tears of pride was all you could do.

It turned out you couldn’t even do that, because as soon as your feet touched the ground again and he pulled back to look at you with stars in his eyes, the tears started to gather in yours.

“Oh my god, are you crying?” He laughed, big hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. His thumb swiped over your cheek, catching a lone tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, woman, or else I’ll start crying again.”

“Of course I’m crying, you dick!” You exclaimed, sniffling a few times in hopes of keeping the waterworks at bay. “I’m happy, I’m proud, I’m really fucking jet lagged right now, I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“So this is why you weren’t answering my texts!” He exclaimed, holding you at arms length. Even that only lasted a fleeting moment before he was bringing you right back in for another bone-crushing hug. “I knew you weren’t ignoring me! Oscar was being a dickhead, he said I was being clingy.”

“I’m sorry, I was twenty thousand feet in the air at the time.” You gave a watery chuckle, tightening your arms around his neck. “I’m so, so fucking proud of you, baby. Never had a doubt in my mind that you’d be a Grand Prix winner one day. Kinda wish that day was one where I could’ve put on a cuter outfit, ‘cause I can already picture all the god awful photos of this moment right now, but whatever.”

“Thank you. Thank you for standing by me, thank you for loving me—thank you for everything. I love you. I love you so much.” Lando said, lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m beyond fucking lucky to have you, darling. And you always look cute, what’re you even talking about?”

“You may be a winner now but you’re still a god awful liar, Lando Norris.”

“Shut up and c’mere,” He murmured, tugging you flush against him with a hand splayed across your back. Before you could say a word, he tilted your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger and he kissed you, finally.

It wasn’t a graceful kiss by any means, but it didn’t matter. He tasted sweet like champagne and victory as he kissed you with his whole soul, nearly knocking you backwards had he not been keeping you firmly in place.

He pulled away far too early, but pressed one more, much shorter kiss to your lips before he gave you a not-so-subtle once over. Concern bloomed across his face, and instantly you readied yourself for the barrage of questions coming your way in three, two, one.

“How was your flight? Are you tired? I still can’t believe you forgot to tell me you were coming. Do you want to head to the hotel? I think I've got some more media stuff to do, but I can send for a car to take you back now and I’ll meet you later?”

“I’m fine, you muppet! Stop fussing over me.” You griped playfully, nudging him with your elbow. “Do what you have to do, I’ll wait here for you.”

Lando tutted, pressing close to murmur into your ear, breath hot. “What I want to do and what I have to do are two very different things. One involves you, and I can’t do it with all these people around, but—”

“Lando.”

“What?” He pouted. You reached up to tug at his earlobe, to which he huffed out a sigh. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later then. I was actually supposed to fly home tonight to get back to you, if you wanted to know.”

“Really?” Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words. He could’ve done anything he wanted the night following the race, but he’d booked a flight to go home to you.

“Of course. No matter what the outcome could’ve been, I wanted to see you.” He replied, smiling warmly at you. You turned your head towards him, puckering your lips for a kiss that he happily planted on you. “But since you’re here and not thousands of miles away…how ‘bout we celebrate? Dinner out, maybe go clubbing? Miami’s got a killer party scene, I’ve heard. Unless you’re tired from your flight, we could always just stay in.”

“My winner wants to go clubbing, then we go clubbing.” You said firmly. Good thing you’d thrown that dress Lando loved on you into your bag, just in case. (Though you suspected he wouldn't have minded buying you a brand new one if you asked.)

“Your winner, huh?” Lando beamed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Formula 1 winner Lando Norris takes on Miami! To the clubs we go!”

-------

“We shouldn't have gone clubbing.”

You glanced up from where your face had been buried in Lando’s shoulder since the plane had taken off, squinting at your boyfriend through bleary eyes. Even the dim light of the cabin was almost too much for the throbbing in your head, making you wince. “Huh?”

“Last night. We should’ve just ordered takeaway. Watched a movie or something.”

“You wanted to go out though?”

He let out a pained groan, shifting in his seat gingerly. “Yeah, and look where that got me.”

“What’re you even—oh.” You blinked a few times, and when your vision cleared, you saw it. A ugly looking bruise right above his eyebrow, darkening the surrounding skin. “Did you get that last night?” Lando nodded, prodding at the area gently before you had the sense to swat his hand away. “Stop touching it. I don’t even remember how you did that. I don’t really remember a lot of last night, really.”

“Me neither.” He snuggled deeper into you, letting his cheek fall against the top of your head comfortably. “Next time I suggest something, tell me I’m being stupid.”

“I love you even when you suggest stupid things.”

Lando scowled, but not for long until it morphed into a wince. “I’m too hungover to even argue with that right now. I love you too.”

“Lando Norris, Grand Prix winner, parties so hard he doesn’t know how he injured himself. Nice.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

You dotted a kiss to his cheek, smiling bright as you could manage. “No. Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

“...No.”

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