Cars go vroom 🏎️

Just a fangirl with an obsession for Formula One drivers | open for requests :)

[annie115]

Masterlist - Annie115 📚

Hey guys, I´m Annie, 26 years old and I just love writing more than anything so feel free to browse through my page and leave likes, comments or reblog if you like :)

Masterlist under the cut :)

All my works are also on ao3! :)

If you like my stuff, feel free to buy me a coffee :)

My Stories

Charles Leclerc Masterlist ❤️

Lando Norris Masterlist 🧡

Multiple drivers series

One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready:

Part 1: One for the money (MV1 x Driver!Reader)

Part 2: Two for the show (LN4 x Driver!Reader)

Part 3: Three to get ready (CL16 x Driver!Reader)

[annie115]

Mia piccola tifosa (CL16 x Reader)

Dedicated to his P3 today ❤️

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected (don't do it!!!), cheating! Mention of Charles' dad. Not proofread. Translated Italian, lol.

This is only fiction! I have nothing against anyone mentioned in this story, neither do I know anyone personally or god knows what. It's just a story.

Masterlist Charles Masterlist ❤️

Here he was, on the podium. Charles would never celebrate a third place. But since the McLaren were practically unbeatable this season, he knew he was the best of the rest with a third place.

Spa wasn't one of his home races, wasn't Monza or Monaco, so no one was there. Not his mum, not his brothers, not Alex, his girlfriend. He would never admit it, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Sure, he couldn't expect them to be at every race. But why did every other driver always have at least one person there? Their mom, their.. dad.

Charles swallowed hard and looked into the sky as he tried to ignore the Australian anthem that was playing for the race winner.

Papa would be proud, Charles thought.

He took a deep breath and looked back into the crowd, which was almost completely orange or papaya. Only his team was dressed in red.

But then.. a red spot. In the middle of the papaya crowd.

A girl, short, hopping up and down, wearing a red Ferrari trikot that was way too big for her, holding up an Italian flag. She was cheering, wooing, smiling as if she was having the best day of her life.

Charles found himself smiling. She looked so adorable.. he was so distracted that he almost forgot taking the trophy.

Instead of humbly lifting it a little bit for his team, he held it up high, his eyes locked on the short girl in the crowd. She was cheering even louder, probably not even realizing that he was looking at her.

After the podium celebration, Charles rushed towards Andrea, his trainer. "Short girl, brown hair, oversized Ferrari trikot with my name on it. Find her."

He ignored Andrea's confused look and rushed into the media pen, giving his interview, before getting ready for the press conference which couldn't end soon enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Charles came back into his driver's room, where she was already seated, the Italian flag wrapped around her. Charles looked at her, and let out an almost relieved sigh.

She looked at him with wide eyes, smiling shyly. "H-hi", she said softly and he smiled, closing the door. "Hi", he gave back.

"So.. so you did see me. On the podium? I thought I only imagined it..", she confessed and he smiled and shook his head. "I did see it. How couldn't I? Nice merch, by the way".

The blush that crept to her cheeks was the most adorable thing he had seen in a while. He gently reached out, taking her hands, helping her to stand up before he caged her in, hands on her hips.

Her eyes widened, she looked up at him, and although she knew that she should just keep her mouth shut, she asked. "Don't you have a girlfriend..?" she asked quietly and smirk faded.

"I do. But she's not here", he mumbled and leaned closer, his nose grazing her temple which made her heart skip several beats.

"But.. but still", she whispered, not wanting to be involved with a man in a relationship. Charles exhaled deeply, looking at her almost pleadingly.

"Don't mention her.. please. Just.. take my mind to another place. Just for tonight", he whispered.

Despite her being a girl's girl, which girl could possibly turn down Charles Leclerc? Before she even really understood what she just agreed on, she found herself nodding and he let out a sigh of relief before he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

He trapped her between his firm, toned body and the wall, his hands wandering.

His tongue gently licked over her lower lip, begging for entrance which she granted him willingly. A soft groan escaped him, his hands sliding under her t-shirt. "Tell me your name", he whispered before his lips trailed over her jaw.

"Y/n..", she breathed and moaned when he found the spot below her ear. "Y/n..", he repeated in a needy whisper. "You're mine tonight, y/n."

He lifted her up, carrying her to the table in the corner of the room. Her shirt was on the floor the next second, while she unzipped his racing suit. He helped her, taking it off until he was only in his fireproofs.

Her eyes drank in the sight of him, all messy and sweaty after the long race. God, it inflated his ego even more. But she was just as breathtaking. He claimed her lips once more, opening the button of her jeans shorts.

"Lift your hips for me, pretty girl", he murmured against her lips and she obeyed so he could pull down her shorts. His fireproofs followed and he hooked her legs around his waist.

"Please tell me you're on birth control", he growled quietly and she nodded. "I am".

It was really all he needed to know. He didn't care about anything else, lining himself up on her already wet pussy. "Can I?" he whispered and she nodded eagerly, her nails already digging into his broad shoulders. "Please.."

He thrusted inside of her with ease, moaning as he felt her enveloping him. She was so ready, so eager for him, as if her body was made for him and him only.

"Oh god you feel so good", he said in a strangled moan while she panted, searching his gaze. When she found it, he cupped her chin, kissing her again while his hips snapped into hers.

In this moment, he didn't care about P3, about McLaren being so obnoxiously dominant, about no one being here. Because she was here.

"I need you", he heard himself whisper, almost needy. "Please never go away again". His words were accentuated with every thrust, her moans filling the room.

Both of them were soon to far gone, too absorbed in the moment, neither of them knowing what was wrong or right. The only thing that matters was them, being together.

He whispered against her lips before he came.

"Il mio piccola tifosa... solo mio. In una folla piena di gente, ti troverò". My little fan... only mine. In a crowd of people, I'll find you.

A/n: Just a little blurb, hope you enjoyed it :) Likes and reblogs are appreciated. I live from your feedback guys, please leave a comment! ❤️ First one wasn't shown in the tags I think so I'll try again :)

[annie115]

I love nothing more than Charles on the podium❤️

[annie115]

Did you get enough love? ~ A mobster story (CL16)

Guys I have no idea where this is coming from, sorry for being basically non existent those last months but life has been crazy. Don’t know if you like this, if yes, leave a like or a comment ❤️

Warnings: mafia, violence, death, humiliation, 18+ (typos, too, English is not my first language)

If you are uncomfortable with abuse, maybe this story isn’t for you. Take care of yourself ❤️

Those dinners were held every month. In a different house every time, never in the boss‘s house.

Charles had six men he trusted most. Six men that worked for him, that did his dirty work, that obeyed his orders without hesitation.

But also men who brought him back to the ground when his temper boiled over.

Today, they were having dinner in the house of the seventh man. The man Charles did not trust. Not anymore. And the reason for that is y/n.

Charles had already decided that he’d drop the seventh man, Richard. But dropping a man who had his nose deep in Charles‘ business wasn’t that easy. Not easy at all.

The easy way would be to kill him. He could snap his neck right here and now, but Charles wasn’t as fond of violence as most of his men.

Charles was a talker. But sometimes, there were no words that could describe the anger that flared up in him whenever he saw Richard.

Let’s go back to the scene. Eight men, including Charles, sitting around a big dinner table. The dining room was big, the table made of dark oak wood, set with only the best china.

High shelves and paintings adorned the walls, a big chandelier casting the room into a light that could only be described as luxurious.

A few maids walked around, serving food and drinks, and then there was y/n. Richard’s daughter.

She wasn’t a maid. She wasn’t a servant. She was his daughter. Yet she wore the same outfit as the maids.

She was thin, her cheeks hollowed, her gaze downcast all the time. Still, Charles could see the dark bruise under her left eye.

Y/n saw the empty glass of whiskey in front of Charles, and grabbed the bottle to top it up. Her hands were shaking so heavily that she spilled a little bit.

She froze. Her father’s eyes snapped to her. In an instant she turned around, rushing into the kitchen to get a cloth.

Richard followed. Charles clenched his fists under the table.

The next thing they heard was yelling. Then a slap. Then another one.

„How pathetic you are! Look at you! Unable to serve a drink!“ Richard yelled, and another slap followed.

„None of these men will ever look at you!“

After he had spoken those words, Richard came back into the dining room and sat down, seemingly content with himself. He didn’t see Charles‘ deadly gaze.

Y/n came back from the kitchen, even smaller than before, her face a colourful mix of bruises. With trembling hands she cleaned up the few bits of whiskey from the table, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

„Luca“, her father suddenly said, addressing another man at the table. „Look at her. Would you make her a wife? Take her to bed?“ he asked condescendingly.

Y/n froze, her eyes still focused on the dark carpet beneath her feet. Charles glared at Richard and Luca, but the latter was unaware. He smirked, looking her up and down.

„Wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole“, he said dryly and the men erupted in laughter.

Charles straightened in his chair, and everyone immediately went silent.

He didn’t need words right now. His aura was enough.

After dinner, the men retreated into Richard‘s living room, sitting down on the leather couches and armchairs with whiskey and cigars.

But Charles went somewhere else.

Y/n stood in the kitchen, silently washing the dishes. The bruises on her face were already changing colour, and Charles had to suppress the urge to snap her father’s neck.

He cleared his throat, once, and y/n swirled around. „Sir..“, she whispered and nodded once.

He stepped towards her, taking the towel and tossing it away. „Don’t call me that“, he spoke in a gruff voice before taking her chin between his thumb and digit to tilt her face up.

She closed her eyes, expecting a slap. But none came. Instead, Charles examined her bruises.

„Have you ever been loved?“ he asked, his voice merely above a whisper. Y/n was taken aback by his question. A mobster usually didn’t talk about love. Especially when he was the boss.

And why would her ask her? She looked at him, confused and scared while he grazed his calloused thumb over one of her bruises.

„When I ask a question, I demand an answer, little dove“, he murmured and her breath hitched.

„No“, she whispered quietly. „I don’t think I’ve ever been loved.“

He nodded once. „Yes. That’s what I think, too“, he said gruffly.

Y/n started to feel a bit less tense in his presence, but her nervousness didn’t fade. So she did what she always did. She started rambling.

„Your pocket square has the same colour as your eyes“, she said quietly. „I had a dress once in the same colour. It’s too big now. I like the colour. Blue-green. It’s like a starry night.“

Charles‘ lips twitched. So she was a talker, too. But conditioned to be silent.

He grabbed a chair, sitting down on it to be on her height. She was quite short. And young, too. Probably five to six years younger than him.

„Do you like starry nights, little dove?“ he asked, his dark eyes on hers.

She nodded. „Yes. Especially the very clear ones. There’s one star that is brighter than all the others..“, she said quietly and he nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

„That‘s the Sirius. The brightest star in the sky“, Charles nodded and she smiled a bit.

He smiled as well, something he did not do often.

Footsteps behind him made him drop that smile. „What are you doing, talking to the boss? You stupid girl!“ Richard barked and y/n quickly took a few steps back, but Charles stayed cool.

Richard reached out to grab her arm, but he got in between. „If you want to keep your fingers, I’d suggest you stop touching her“, he said, his voice composed but with a deadly edge.

Richard stopped, not one to mess with the boss. He narrowed his eyes and walked back to the living room, leaving Charles and y/n alone once more.

Charles turned to her. „Show me that dress“, he said and her eyes widened. „The.. the dress? It’s too big.. it doesn’t fit anymore-", she rambled but he shook his head.

„I didn’t tell you to wear it. I told you to show it to me.“

With that, he took her hand, interlacing their fingers and let her guide him upstairs to her room.

Her room was more like a chamber, but Charles hadn’t expected anything else. Her father was treating her like a damn slave, but this would end tonight.

„I have it here somewhere..“, y/n mumbled as he rummaged through her closet. Charles waited patiently.

She eventually pulled it out and Charles examined it. He took it from her, holding it against her small frame.

It was a beautiful dress, dark blue-green, shimmering a bit. It had thin straps, and it would hug her curves perfectly, if she had any.

„You’ll fill it out again, little dove. I promise you that“, he mumbled and she looked at him, a bit confused.

She didn’t dare to hope, didn’t dare to think that he’d get her out of here. Even if, could she trust him? He was the boss. Wasn’t he even more cruel than her father?

But when she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. And really, what could be worse than this place?

„Pack your things. Everything that you hold dear“, he said and she did not hesitate. Books, clothes and a few other things landed in the backpack, while Charles grabbed some black tights and a long knitted dress from her closet.

„Take this on. Get out of this terrible maid outfit“, he grumbled and she obeyed, changing into a more comfortable outfit.

They walked down the stairs, Charles carrying her backpack. You will wonder why he did this. Why would he take her in, this girl?

Because for some reason, he wanted to see her smile. He wanted to see her healthy. Safe. And he wanted to see her happy.

The reason? He had to find that one out himself.

Of course there was still the little obstacle that was her father. Said man approached the two of them, the other six men of Charles behind him. One look from Charles, and all of them positioned themselves behind Charles and y/n.

Richard looked outraged. „What the fuck?“ he spat. „Where do you think you’re going?“ he barked at y/n, grabbing her throat. She gasped for air, and without hesitation, Charles pulled his gun.

„Take. Your. Hands. Off“, he growled, the barrel against Richard‘s temple.

Richard, who’s bravado faded slightly, swallowed. „She‘s my daughter. My property. I do with her as I please“, he said and Charles released the safety of his gun.

„She’s off age. She’s not a punching bag. And she is not your goddamn slave. Take your hands off her if you want to live.“

Richard released y/n from his grip, she gasped for air. „This isn’t over“, he growled and Charles hummed, gently pulling y/n against his chest.

„I was afraid you’d say that“, he tisked and leaned his lips on y/n‘s ear. „Close your eyes, little dove. And cover your ears“, he whispered.

She knew what was about to come, and she didn’t hesitate to obey him.

One shot. The thud of a body falling to the ground. And just like that, y/n was free.

And from this moment on, Charles spend every waking minute making sure she’d get enough love.

He’d ask her, every day.

Six months later

Y/n stood on the balcony of the restaurant, overlooking Monaco. Charles approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She was wearing the blue-green dress, and it shimmered in unison with the starry night sky.

„Did you get enough love today, my little dove?“ he whispered in her ear and she smiled and nodded.

The nod wasn’t enough for him. He smiled. „My little star in the sky“, he whispered and her smile turned into a laugh full of joy.

And then, right there, Charles had his reason. A reason he once again couldn’t put in words. It was love.

Unconditional love.

Again, no idea where this comes from. Just felt like it. Sorry for typos or anything, English is not my first language as you know.

Please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it❤️

You can find more of my work here. ❤️

[annie115]

Just a little update to my posts, I’m moving to another city at the moment and I’ll be on vacation afterwards, so nothing much will be going on here for two weeks or so.

Love ya‘ll!!❤️❤️

[annie115]

Need to touch grass, gonna be offline for a while ❤️

[annie115]

This is a nightmare.

[annie115]

NO NO NO FUCK THIS!!!!!! I hate domination, I hate it. Fuck those orange cars.

[annie115]

No fuck this!! Charles deserves that win!! I will burn down that McLaren HQ‘s I swear to god

[annie115]

There’s nothing more rewarding than seeing how someone reads through my Masterlist 🥹 I love you all so much🩵

[annie115]

In the middle of the night (LN4 x Reader)

Warnings: pure smut, 18+, anal (you can't tell me Lando doesn't like it, also please use lube guys) No plot, just smut, not proofread

Masterlist Lando Masterlist🧡

Charles' version ❤️

Trainings camp with 19 testosterone monkeys would probably be easier than a trainings camp with 19 F1 drivers. But you managed. Somehow.

You had noticed Lando's looks all night, while you were at dinner and after when you were watching a movie in the huge living room.

The other drivers were looking at you, too, except for a few who were devoted to their girlfriends. But Lando.. it was different with him.

He didn't stare, didn't ogle. He just looked. Checking you out subtly, doing that thing with his tongue whenever a naughty thought went through his mind.

Maybe you were hoping to meet him tonight, when you went downstairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water. The clothes you were wearing were really just a pathetic excuse for a pyjama. Only a thong, showing off your ass in the best way, barely covering your pussy. And a top, that was so short it could've been a sports bra.

You hid a smirk when you heard him behind you. "Are you trying to kill me?" he growled quietly before you felt his hands on your waist, his breath ont he back of your neck. "Look at you..", he murmured and growled before he bit into your skin.

You suppressed a moan, pressing your backside against his crotch. He was hard already. And your pussy was drenched.

"I'm running around in this house with a boner for three days now", he breathed, a shiver running down your spine. "And now here we are. Alone", he added in a soft growl.

You were so turned on already you couldn't even think. His fingers rubbed over your folds, sliding your thong to the side but you gasped when you felt his fingers leaving your pussy, going higher. "L-lando..", you whispered but he shushed you.

"You think you can run around in that little thing, showing off your ass and then you want me to fuck your pussy? No chance".

You bit your lip, hard. Not because you had never done anal before, but because you could feel how big Lando was.

He slid two fingers into your soaked pussy, groaning softly as you moaned, before he spread your wetness between your cheeks. "You're so wet. Don't even need any lube", he growled before he lined himself up. "Bite me if it hurts", he whispered and held a hand in front of your mouth so you wouldn't moan too loud, before he thrusted inside you.

The sound you let out was almost animalistic, your eyes widening as you felt him stretching you out. The familiar sensation of being full, too full, washed over you in the best way possible.

With his free hand, Lando rubbed your pussy, giving you the stimulation you needed. Your moans turned into softer ones, while he set a pace. You felt his breath on your ear. "Say my name", he whispered and you obeyed, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"Say it again. Say that I'm fucking your ass so good", he growled quietly and your eyes rolled back. "L-lando.. you fuck me so good..", you whispered and he hummed, thrusting a finger into your pussy.

You let out a loud groan, feeling even fuller. "Fuck.. yes yes.. Lando I'm about to-"

Your sentence was cut short when your high washed over you, so intense and beautiful that your knees buckled. But Lando held you tight, with one hand around your waist while the other was still buried inside you.

"Oh god, y/n.. you're so tight..", he breathed and moaned before you felt his soft curls tickling the back of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh. He came hard, pumping his cum into your hole. You knew it was gonna be an absolute mess, but really, how could you care?

Hope you liked it, reblogs and likes are appreciated :) I live from your feedback guys, please comment 🧡

[annie115]

Mia piccola tifosa (CL16 x Reader)

Dedicated to his P3 today ❤️

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected (don't do it!!!), cheating! Mention of Charles' dad. Not proofread. Translated Italian, lol.

This is only fiction! I have nothing against anyone mentioned in this story, neither do I know anyone personally or god knows what. It's just a story.

Masterlist Charles Masterlist ❤️

Here he was, on the podium. Charles would never celebrate a third place. But since the McLaren were practically unbeatable this season, he knew he was the best of the rest with a third place.

Spa wasn't one of his home races, wasn't Monza or Monaco, so no one was there. Not his mum, not his brothers, not Alex, his girlfriend. He would never admit it, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Sure, he couldn't expect them to be at every race. But why did every other driver always have at least one person there? Their mom, their.. dad.

Charles swallowed hard and looked into the sky as he tried to ignore the Australian anthem that was playing for the race winner.

Papa would be proud, Charles thought.

He took a deep breath and looked back into the crowd, which was almost completely orange or papaya. Only his team was dressed in red.

But then.. a red spot. In the middle of the papaya crowd.

A girl, short, hopping up and down, wearing a red Ferrari trikot that was way too big for her, holding up an Italian flag. She was cheering, wooing, smiling as if she was having the best day of her life.

Charles found himself smiling. She looked so adorable.. he was so distracted that he almost forgot taking the trophy.

Instead of humbly lifting it a little bit for his team, he held it up high, his eyes locked on the short girl in the crowd. She was cheering even louder, probably not even realizing that he was looking at her.

After the podium celebration, Charles rushed towards Andrea, his trainer. "Short girl, brown hair, oversized Ferrari trikot with my name on it. Find her."

He ignored Andrea's confused look and rushed into the media pen, giving his interview, before getting ready for the press conference which couldn't end soon enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Charles came back into his driver's room, where she was already seated, the Italian flag wrapped around her. Charles looked at her, and let out an almost relieved sigh.

She looked at him with wide eyes, smiling shyly. "H-hi", she said softly and he smiled, closing the door. "Hi", he gave back.

"So.. so you did see me. On the podium? I thought I only imagined it..", she confessed and he smiled and shook his head. "I did see it. How couldn't I? Nice merch, by the way".

The blush that crept to her cheeks was the most adorable thing he had seen in a while. He gently reached out, taking her hands, helping her to stand up before he caged her in, hands on her hips.

Her eyes widened, she looked up at him, and although she knew that she should just keep her mouth shut, she asked. "Don't you have a girlfriend..?" she asked quietly and smirk faded.

"I do. But she's not here", he mumbled and leaned closer, his nose grazing her temple which made her heart skip several beats.

"But.. but still", she whispered, not wanting to be involved with a man in a relationship. Charles exhaled deeply, looking at her almost pleadingly.

"Don't mention her.. please. Just.. take my mind to another place. Just for tonight", he whispered.

Despite her being a girl's girl, which girl could possibly turn down Charles Leclerc? Before she even really understood what she just agreed on, she found herself nodding and he let out a sigh of relief before he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

He trapped her between his firm, toned body and the wall, his hands wandering.

His tongue gently licked over her lower lip, begging for entrance which she granted him willingly. A soft groan escaped him, his hands sliding under her t-shirt. "Tell me your name", he whispered before his lips trailed over her jaw.

"Y/n..", she breathed and moaned when he found the spot below her ear. "Y/n..", he repeated in a needy whisper. "You're mine tonight, y/n."

He lifted her up, carrying her to the table in the corner of the room. Her shirt was on the floor the next second, while she unzipped his racing suit. He helped her, taking it off until he was only in his fireproofs.

Her eyes drank in the sight of him, all messy and sweaty after the long race. God, it inflated his ego even more. But she was just as breathtaking. He claimed her lips once more, opening the button of her jeans shorts.

"Lift your hips for me, pretty girl", he murmured against her lips and she obeyed so he could pull down her shorts. His fireproofs followed and he hooked her legs around his waist.

"Please tell me you're on birth control", he growled quietly and she nodded. "I am".

It was really all he needed to know. He didn't care about anything else, lining himself up on her already wet pussy. "Can I?" he whispered and she nodded eagerly, her nails already digging into his broad shoulders. "Please.."

He thrusted inside of her with ease, moaning as he felt her enveloping him. She was so ready, so eager for him, as if her body was made for him and him only.

"Oh god you feel so good", he said in a strangled moan while she panted, searching his gaze. When she found it, he cupped her chin, kissing her again while his hips snapped into hers.

In this moment, he didn't care about P3, about McLaren being so obnoxiously dominant, about no one being here. Because she was here.

"I need you", he heard himself whisper, almost needy. "Please never go away again". His words were accentuated with every thrust, her moans filling the room.

Both of them were soon to far gone, too absorbed in the moment, neither of them knowing what was wrong or right. The only thing that matters was them, being together.

He whispered against her lips before he came.

"Il mio piccola tifosa... solo mio. In una folla piena di gente, ti troverò". My little fan... only mine. In a crowd of people, I'll find you.

A/n: Just a little blurb, hope you enjoyed it :) Likes and reblogs are appreciated. I live from your feedback guys, please leave a comment! ❤️ First one wasn't shown in the tags I think so I'll try again :)

[annie115]

Mia piccola tifosa

Dedicated to his P3 today ❤️

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected (don't do it!!!), cheating! Mention of Charles' dad. Not proofread. Translated Italian, lol.

This is only fiction! I have nothing against anyone mentioned in this story, neither do I know anyone personally or god knows what. It's just a story.

Masterlist Charles Masterlist ❤️

Here he was, on the podium. Charles would never celebrate a third place. But since the McLaren were practically unbeatable this season, he knew he was the best of the rest with a third place.

Spa wasn't one of his home races, wasn't Monza or Monaco, so no one was there. Not his mum, not his brothers, not Alex, his girlfriend. He would never admit it, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Sure, he couldn't expect them to be at every race. But why did every other driver always have at least one person there? Their mom, their.. dad.

Charles swallowed hard and looked into the sky as he tried to ignore the Australian anthem that was playing for the race winner.

Papa would be proud, Charles thought.

He took a deep breath and looked back into the crowd, which was almost completely orange or papaya. Only his team was dressed in red.

But then.. a red spot. In the middle of the papaya crowd.

A girl, short, hopping up and down, wearing a red Ferrari trikot that was way too big for her, holding up an Italian flag. She was cheering, wooing, smiling as if she was having the best day of her life.

Charles found himself smiling. She looked so adorable.. he was so distracted that he almost forgot taking the trophy.

Instead of humbly lifting it a little bit for his team, he held it up high, his eyes locked on the short girl in the crowd. She was cheering even louder, probably not even realizing that he was looking at her.

After the podium celebration, Charles rushed towards Andrea, his trainer. "Short girl, brown hair, oversized Ferrari trikot with my name on it. Find her."

He ignored Andrea's confused look and rushed into the media pen, giving his interview, before getting ready for the press conference which couldn't end soon enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Charles came back into his driver's room, where she was already seated, the Italian flag wrapped around her. Charles looked at her, and let out an almost relieved sigh.

She looked at him with wide eyes, smiling shyly. "H-hi", she said softly and he smiled, closing the door. "Hi", he gave back.

"So.. so you did see me. On the podium? I thought I only imagined it..", she confessed and he smiled and shook his head. "I did see it. How couldn't I? Nice merch, by the way".

The blush that crept to her cheeks was the most adorable thing he had seen in a while. He gently reached out, taking her hands, helping her to stand up before he caged her in, hands on her hips.

Her eyes widened, she looked up at him, and although she knew that she should just keep her mouth shut, she asked. "Don't you have a girlfriend..?" she asked quietly and smirk faded.

"I do. But she's not here", he mumbled and leaned closer, his nose grazing her temple which made her heart skip several beats.

"But.. but still", she whispered, not wanting to be involved with a man in a relationship. Charles exhaled deeply, looking at her almost pleadingly.

"Don't mention her.. please. Just.. take my mind to another place. Just for tonight", he whispered.

Despite her being a girl's girl, which girl could possibly turn down Charles Leclerc? Before she even really understood what she just agreed on, she found herself nodding and he let out a sigh of relief before he captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

He trapped her between his firm, toned body and the wall, his hands wandering.

His tongue gently licked over her lower lip, begging for entrance which she granted him willingly. A soft groan escaped him, his hands sliding under her t-shirt. "Tell me your name", he whispered before his lips trailed over her jaw.

"Y/n..", she breathed and moaned when he found the spot below her ear. "Y/n..", he repeated in a needy whisper. "You're mine tonight, y/n."

He lifted her up, carrying her to the table in the corner of the room. Her shirt was on the floor the next second, while she unzipped his racing suit. He helped her, taking it off until he was only in his fireproofs.

Her eyes drank in the sight of him, all messy and sweaty after the long race. God, it inflated his ego even more. But she was just as breathtaking. He claimed her lips once more, opening the button of her jeans shorts.

"Lift your hips for me, pretty girl", he murmured against her lips and she obeyed so he could pull down her shorts. His fireproofs followed and he hooked her legs around his waist.

"Please tell me you're on birth control", he growled quietly and she nodded. "I am".

It was really all he needed to know. He didn't care about anything else, lining himself up on her already wet pussy. "Can I?" he whispered and she nodded eagerly, her nails already digging into his broad shoulders. "Please.."

He thrusted inside of her with ease, moaning as he felt her enveloping him. She was so ready, so eager for him, as if her body was made for him and him only.

"Oh god you feel so good", he said in a strangled moan while she panted, searching his gaze. When she found it, he cupped her chin, kissing her again while his hips snapped into hers.

In this moment, he didn't care about P3, about McLaren being so obnoxiously dominant, about no one being here. Because she was here.

"I need you", he heard himself whisper, almost needy. "Please never go away again". His words were accentuated with every thrust, her moans filling the room.

Both of them were soon to far gone, too absorbed in the moment, neither of them knowing what was wrong or right. The only thing that matters was them, being together.

He whispered against her lips before he came.

"Il mio piccola tifosa... solo mio. In una folla piena di gente, ti troverò". My little fan... only mine. In a crowd of people, I'll find you.

A/n: Just a little blurb, hope you enjoyed it :) Likes and reblogs are appreciated. I live from your feedback guys, please leave a comment! ❤️

[annie115]

Just a volunteer (LN4) Part 2

Summary: Who thought being a volunteer at the Dutch Grand Prix would make every single one of my dreams come true? 🧡

Wordcount: ~2000

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist 🫶🏼🧡

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: none so far, English is not my first language

Masterlist Lando Masterlist🧡

„You look awfully sad for someone who just spent the day in the paddock for free“, Lando joked and I chuckled. „I don’t even know what to say. This has been the best day of my life“, I smiled and his smirk turned into a genuine smile. He crouched down in front of me so that we were on the same height. „It was my pleasure. I‘m glad you had fun. I just couldn’t stand you working here all weekend and not even getting to see the real action“.

I knew already that he was the one behind all that, but hearing him confirm it made my heart flutter.

I smiled at him, my eyes sparkling in genuine admiration. „Thank you so much. Really..“.

He shook his head. „It was nothing. So..” he said and ran a hand through his brown curls that were a bit damp. Whether from champagne or sweat, I didn’t know. “I was wondering, are you here by yourself?“

I nodded. „Yeah, my friends are not really into F1, so..“, I explained and he nodded. „I see. You’re Dutch?“ he asked further and I shook my head. „German. I have an Airbnb a bit outside of Zandvoort. I‘m y/n.. by the way“, I said, not knowing why I felt the urge to tell him my name. He smiled.

„Suits you. Y/n with the pineapple hat“, he chuckled and I had to laugh softly. It was a bit ridiculous, but I liked it. He was so genuinely funny, not trying to put up some kind of facade.

I looked at his watch and gasped. „Oh shit! My bus!“ I said and stood up suddenly which surprised him a bit. „Whoa, easy..“, he chuckled. „You’re taking the shuttle to your Airbnb?“ he asked and I shook my head. „No, to the parking lot where my car is. And then I‘ll drive to my Airbnb“, I sighed. „But.. the bus left like 15 minutes ago because I’ve been sitting here like an idiot“.

Lando chuckled. „You’re not an idiot, you were just.. vibin‘. How far is it to the parking lot?“

„About 15 minutes by car, the bus takes 30 I think“, I sighed and already googled how to get to that stupid parking lot now. A cab would probably cost a fortune..

Lando looked at me. „Come. I’ll drive you“, he said and I blinked. What did he say? I stared at him like I’ve never interacted with a human being before. He chuckled. „I’m serious. Come“, he said and gestured for me to follow him.

My feet just carried me, but my eyes must’ve been as wide as plates. He led me out of the paddock to the parking lot, thankfully most fans were already gone. I figured that would’ve been awkward for me. I looked back at the paddock again, smiling to myself. I had been sad to leave, but it seemed like the day just took another unexpected turn.

He unlocked the black McLaren he got for the weekend and my jaw dropped a bit. I’ve never sat in a sports car. Especially not one like this.

Lando opened the butterfly door for me and I got in, careful not to.. I don’t know. Touch something? Break something? I searched the seatbelt but couldn’t find it and frowned. „Huh..“, I mumbled and heard a soft chuckle.

„Racing belts, love. Let me help you“, he said and strapped me in. We locked eyes for a moment and my heart skipped a beat, my skin tingling where he touched me. He met my gaze for a split second which caused my heart to skip another one. What was happening?

He closed the door and rounded the car to settle behind the wheel before he roared the car to life, and I had to smile.

I navigated him to the parking lot, the sun low on the horizon by now. „There it is“, I said after 15 minutes of driving, pointing at a big parking lot which was now almost empty.

Soon after, we learned why it was empty. The barriers were down already, and it was clear that I wouldn’t have access to my car tonight. „Oh dammit!“ I sighed and leaned back, closing my eyes for a second. Lando looked at me. „They really closed the parking lot for the night? That’s ridiculous..“, he said and frowned. He then looked over at me, giving me a sympathetic smile.

“What am I gonna do now..?” I mumbled to myself and he bit his lip before he spoke. “I’ll drive you to your Airbnb. It’s no big deal”.

My eyes widened in surprise. “No.. Lando it’s actually like 45 minutes away. I can’t-“ “Yes, you can. Let me drive you, I won’t just drop you off here right before sunset”, he stated and started the engine again.

Before I could say anything, he gestured at my phone. “You know the way or you need Maps?” he asked and I started Google Maps, still very much surprised that he had just offered to drive me home. I mean, clearly he had better things to do, no?

I navigated him, until we were on the highway and he just had to go straight.

“Dutch highways are quite boring, eh? Bet you can send it on the German ones”, he joked and I had to laugh. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. I hate the strict speed limit here”.

He grinned and leaned back, his hand holding the steering wheel in a loose grip, his whole demeanour completely relaxed.

I glanced at his watch, which was of higher value than my small student apartment in Germany. A part of me still didn’t believe that this was my reality right now. That I was actually sitting next to Lando Norris in a McLaren, that he was casually driving me back to my Airbnb. And that’s when it struck me.

He'd see my Airbnb.

The accommodation I had booked for the race weekend was shabbier than any place I’ve ever lived in. It was basically a small bedroom in a house owned by an old woman. A woman that smoked like a chimney, talked like an old man, had a big shepherd dog, and was all in all a bit.. weird. Honestly, last night she had a visitor and I could hear moans coming from her bedroom. Gross. And awkward. The house wasn’t clean or tidy, in fact, most people would’ve probably ran for it the moment they’d seen it.

But I didn’t have a choice. I had already paid for it, and I needed a roof over my head, didn’t I?

I forced myself to push the thought into the back of my head. Lando wasn’t judgemental, right? Right? How could I possibly know? I shook my head slightly. Even if he was judgemental.. it wasn’t like I’d see him again in the future, probably.

“You okay?” he asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. How did he catch up on me overthinking? “Uh, yeah. All good”, I said and he nodded slowly. “You were overthinking. People say to me that my tongue peeks out whenever I do it, so I figured maybe it’s a sign that you do it, too”, he stated and my eyes widened.

“My.. my tongue peeked out?” I whispered and he grinned, nodding. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I never notice it, either”. That didn’t really make me feel better.

Still a bit confused by his ability to read my like an open book, apparently, I pointed at an exit sign and told him he’d have to get out there. He easily manoeuvred the car through the streets, following my navigation, until I stopped him at a random street. “You can just drop me off here..”, I said and he looked at me briefly. “Is it here?” he asked, not stopping, and I bit my lip. “Uh, no it’s just down the road. But it’s difficult for you to turn there, so.. I’ll walk”.

I really wanted to avoid him seeing that crappy Airbnb of mine. But he wasn’t having it. “Why should I drop you off here when I can drive you just as fine?” he asked and kept driving. I sighed quietly. For a stranger, he was pretty insisting.

He finally approached at the house, looking around. “Where is it?” he asked with a frown and I bit my lip again. “Uh, there..”, I said and pointed at the old house. His eyes widened in surprise and slight shock. “This?!” he asked. “I thought that was a ruin!”

I blushed, looking down at my hands momentarily. “No.. it’s not that bad, really.. I have a room there”, I said quietly and he looked at me, his surprise now turning into concern. “Y/n.. this is a shithole. I’m sorry for being so blunt, but.. you can’t possibly stay here”. “I’m here since Thursday, Lando.. I’ll survive one more night”, I said softly but he got a bit angry. “You shouldn’t have to just survive!” he said, is voice rising which made me frown. Why was he so concerned about me sleeping here?

He sighed and ran a hand through his perfect curls. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s just.. this whole thing is making me so angry”, he mumbled and I reached out, placing my hand on his arm. “What do you mean? What makes you angry?” I asked, genuinely confused.

He took a deep breath. “The whole situation you’re in. Becoming a volunteer because tickets are too expensive. Working your ass off just to not even get the chance to watch the race. You have to take a freaking bus that is probably cramped with people, than drive 45 minutes to this excuse of accommodation. It’s not fair. Fans like you, you.. you don’t get treated fairly.”

I was utterly stunned by his words. He had a point, everyone would agree, probably. It wasn’t fair. The prices for tickets, the infrastructure of the cities the races were in, how only rich people could really afford a good time. But never would I have thought that a driver like him cared about that, or even knew about that. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

My thumb stroked over his arm. “You’re right. It isn’t fair. But don’t forget that you just made my day”, I said softly and looked at him. “You gave me a paddock pass! A pass I never thought I’d actually hold in my hands. You made it all happen, and now you even drove me home. It’s more than I’ve ever dreamed of, Lando. Really. And I’ll never forget it.”

Lando smiled at me, a dimpled, genuine smile that did weird things to my heart. “I’m glad that I made your day, I truly am. For me it wasn’t even that big of a deal. I just had to convince Andrea to give me another paddock pass, and he asked Oscar’s if I could use on of his since his family couldn’t come from Australia.. but yeah, no big deal.”

Now I was the one who smiled like an idiot. Not a big deal? He had asked two people to get this pass, his team boss and his teammate. For me, that was a big deal. Especially since he didn’t even know me that well.

“It is a big deal. You could’ve just signed my hat and forget about me”, I said softly and he let out a small chuckle, biting his lip briefly. “Yeah, right. Forget about the hard working volunteer in her little pineapple hat that was too shy to approach me for an autograph..”, he mumbled and I smiled even wider, a small blush creeping to my cheeks.

He helped me to unbuckle the racing seatbelts since I was struggling with them once again, before I opened the door. “I’ll wait here”, he said before I could say goodbye. I frowned and looked at him. “Hm?” “I said I’ll wait here”, he repeated, sounding amused. “Go and grab your stuff, you’re coming with me. No discussion. I won’t let you sleep in that.. hole.” I looked at him, bewildered. “Lando-“ “I said no discussion”, he said again and I bit my lip. “Fine.”

Comments, likes and reblogs are the reason I'm smiling, guys. Share your love 🫶🏼🧡

taglist: @landofotographyy

[annie115]

Just a volunteer (LN4) Part 1

Wrote this when I was a volunteer at the Dutch GP last year :) This is gonna be a multiple parts story! Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist 🧡

Wordcount: ~1000

Warnings: none so far, English is not my first language

Masterlist Lando Masterlist🧡

I took a deep breath, my hands shaking a bit, my black bucket hat clutched in my hand. There he was. Lando.. my comfort driver, as I like to call him.

I am a Ferrari fan, especially for Charles Leclerc, but Lando.. there’s just something about him. His smile, the way he’s so unapologetically honest and himself. I love that. Because I found myself being like that as well. Not changing for anyone, just being who I am. If people don’t like me, that’s not my problem.

I’m so nervous standing here, seeing him walking through the crowd. The fans were screaming his name, all trying to get a picture or an autograph. I wanted to go there, too. But I was starstruck. My feet wouldn’t move. Fuck. That was probably my only chance and I couldn’t move!

I took another shaky breath, ready to move forward, when blue eyes spotted me.

„You want me to sign this?“ a familiar voice with a heavy British accent asked. My heart skipped several beats and I looked up.

Lando.

My eyes met his and a huge smile spread on my face. „Yes. Yes, please!“ I said and gave him my bucket hat and a white marker.

He grinned a bit. „Hey, there’s a little pineapple on it. That’s cute“, he mused and I felt myself blushing. „Yeah, it’s… I thought so, too“, I chuckled and he grinned.

He put the hat back on my head and adjusted it a bit which made me smile even more. „There you go“, he said. „You’re a volunteer?“ he asked and I wondered how he guessed that, but then realized that I was wearing a blue volunteer t shirt. „Yeah, I’m working in visitor service this weekend“, I answered and he nodded.

„You’re watching the race?“ he asked and I shook my head. „No, gotta work during the race, unfortunately.. but I can watch quali today“. He frowned. „You’re working your ass off all weekend and don’t even get to see the race? How’s that fair?“

I gave him a small smile. „It‘s fine, really. I’m here, it’s all about the atmosphere.. yeah“, I said though didn’t sound convincing. Lando shook his head. „Nah.. it’s not fair. Your cute little hat should be able to watch the race“, he smirked and I had to laugh.

Lando tilted his head, looking at me if he was deep in thought. „I gotta go, I hope something comes up for you. Good luck, yeah?“ he said and I smiled. „Thank you so much“.

He left and I suppressed a high pitched giggle. This was so much better than an autograph or a selfie. He had actually talked to me.  

The next day, I started working in the fan zone, answering questions and guiding the crowd, when a guy in a McLaren t shirt approached me. I smiled at him, thinking he was a fan, but it turned out he was actually working for the team. He looked at my bucket hat, seemingly happy to have finally found the right person.

„Hi, there you are“, he said and gave me an envelope. „I was told to give you this“, he said before he left. I frowned. What the hell? I opened the envelope and looked inside, my stomach churning in excitement.

A paddock pass. A fucking paddock pass, with access to the McLaren hospitality. And I couldn’t hold back. I let out a scream, jumping up and down like a crazy fangirl but who cared? I got a paddock pass!!

I checked in with my volunteer coordinator and told him what happened, and he happily let me go. So I changed into a cute top, out of my sweaty volunteer shirt, brushed my hair and made my way to the paddock.

I couldn’t believe it, I actually had access. I scanned the pass, the gates opened and I felt like throwing up from excitement.

For about an hour I just walked around, not knowing where to look first. One hour before the race, I decided to check out the McLaren hospitality.

And guys, that is a complete different world.

Catering, drinks, mini sandwiches and real meals, a balcony from where you can see the pitlane. I should’ve indulged in something delicious, but my nervous stomach simply didn’t allow it.

So I just grabbed a bottle of iced tea, stepped out on the balcony and looked down. I smiled, seeing the mechanics working on the car, when I turned my head I could see the Ferrari garage as well.

This was a dream coming true.

I watched the race from there, watching the 1.9 second pit stop they performed on Lando’s car. I watched how he crossed the finish line first, how everyone cheered and celebrated.

I didn’t want to leave. I knew that if I would leave this paddock, there was no way back in. I would have to drive back to the parking lot in a cramped bus, and then driving for 45 minutes to my shabby AirBnB. So I stayed. Most guests have already left, only the teams were still there, packing up.

I sat on a bench, and even though I should’ve been the happiest girl in the whole world, I felt melancholic.

This weekend had been a dream coming true, and now it should be just.. over?

My thoughts were interrupted when someone stepped right in front of me. I looked up and straight into the blue eyes of the driver who had made this all happen for me.

Next part

[annie115]

A mobster and his baby (CL16) Part 2

All parts can be read as stand alones, I just love this trope so much 🥹

Part 1

Warnings: none, just cuteness overload. English is not my first language

Masterlist Charles Masterlist ❤️

Charles is sitting in his office, going over the paperwork he hated so much while Stella played in the little corner he had prepared for her. A soft blanket, some toys, plushies.. everything she could possibly need. She sat there, softly babbling with her tiny stuffed giraffe.

Charles couldn’t concentrate. He was so damn smitten with this little girl, it was insane. He could watch her for hours, without ever getting bored. The way she giggled, cooed, fidgeted with the little plushie in her tiny hands.. he couldn’t get enough.

„Damnit.. focus“, he grumbled to himself and looked back at his paperwork. He actually managed to focus for two minutes when he saw movements from the corner of his eye. He looked up and saw Stella, quickly crawling over to the big windows.

She sat down on her bum, looking outside before she babbled. „Dada!“ she exclaimed, pointing at the pond outside. Charles followed her finger. „Yes, principessa, the ducks are outside again, aren’t they?“ he said, his voice low but gentle. He stood up and crouched down next to her.

A duck couple has lately made their home in Charles‘ garden, they were now quacking and splashing around, which Stella apparently found very amusing. She clapped her hands, giggling as she watched them. „Dada Splash!“ she exclaimed and he hummed. „Yeah.. alright“, he mumbled and scooped her up in his arms.

After putting her into a super cute pink bathing suit, her diaper peaking out, he put her into a floating swimming ring and set her into the pool. From here, she could watch the ducks in the pond nearby and splash around a bit.

Charles himself was standing in the water, dark blue swim trunks only reaching to his navel. The water pooled around his hip, and he made sure Stella was secure.

He had to smile, she was such a little bundle of joy in the water. She giggled and splashed, Charles closing his eyes when she did and grinned.

„You‘ll get daddy all soaked, principessa“, he mumbled but she just grinned at him, toothless. He chuckled looking around. She surely would have more fun with a toy..

He whistled through his teeth and one of his men, Luca, came outside. „Yes boss?“ he asked and Charles looked at him. „Bring me a rubber duck, no questions asked“, he mumbled and Luca nodded, a bit bewildered.

He soon came back, a yellow rubber duck in his hands and handed it to Charles. „Here, boss“, he said and Charles just nodded, dismissing him. Stella already babbled and clapped her hands as she saw the duckie.

„This is even better, isn’t it, mon petite?“ Charles said softly and handed her the ducky.

After an exciting day by the pool, Charles wrapped her into a soft towel, drying her curls, kissing her chubby cheek before he held her in his arms until she falls asleep.

More parts will come whether you like this or not hahahaha

[annie115]

Thinking about Lando.

How he would do anything to make me laugh when I had a bad day.

He’d peak his head into my room, checking if I want to be alone or if I want his company.

I want both. Because being with Lando is not draining. It’s comforting. It’s coming home.

He’d gently tickle my stomach, seeing if I was in the mood for that and I’d act like I‘m not. But as soon as he tickles me more, I’d drop the act and laugh.

He’d tickle me until I’m completely out of breath, until he settles between my legs and presses soft kisses on my face.

My cheeks, my nose, my forehead, and eventually, my lips.

I‘d kiss him back, my hand running through his curls.

He’d turn my bad day into a good one, because there are no bad days with him.

[annie115]

A mobster and his baby (CL16)

Warnings: mafia!charles, violence

A/N: just a blurb I had, tell me if you’re interested in a whole story with this :)

Masterlist Charles Masterlist❤️

Charles was the most infamous mafia boss in Italy. He was ruthless, brutal, cold, heartless.

But not when it came to her. Stella.

He found the little girl when she was not even eight months old, when someone abandoned her in the underground garage of his penthouse. He had found her wrapped in a pink blanket, a binkey in her mouth.

He was certain that he wouldn’t take her in, he couldn’t. He had no clue of babies whatsoever, how should he care for a little baby girl?

He knew that there was nothing much he could do at that moment, so he ordered his men to go and buy a bottle, formula, diapers and a pyjama onesie for her.

When they came back, he gave her some formula, her big brown eyes fixated on him as she nursed. Her tiny hands were on his around the bottle, and Charles felt a weird feeling in his chest.

After feeding her, he sat her in his bathtub and made a nice bubble bath to clean her up. He had no idea why he had a rubber duck in his bathroom, but she loved it. She cooed and giggled, playing with the little ducky.

When he changed her into a fresh diaper and her pyjama, he took her to bed. He didn’t have a crib or anything, obviously, so his bed would have to do.

He put some pillows around her so that she wouldn’t fall out and watched her sleep.

The next morning, he changed her diaper again and gave her another bottle, before he wanted to call the police. He knew that social workers would pick her up, that they would put her in an orphanage.

And that thought alone, made him shiver. He looked at her again, cradled in his arms, her tiny head resting on his shoulder. How could he ever give her away again?

And with that, the ruthless, cold and heartless mafia man had a baby. Stella. He loved her, with all his heart, with everything he had.

His men knew pretty well that he still wasn’t to underestimate. He was still the same, their boss, but whenever he was with her, he was soft. Warm and caring.

He would play with her, read her bedtime stories, take her to the grocery store where he would show her different things.

He remembers the first time she called him „Papa“. It was in the grocery store, she was sitting in the cart, looking around curiously. Charles had bend down to get something and when he stood up again, she said it. A small, tiny „Papa“, came from her lips and he was overwhelmed with joy. „That’s right.. I’m your Papa“, he had said to her and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

„Papa“ turned into „Daddy“, when she grew older. She was now in kindergarten. Stella was a shy girl, but luckily she found some friends.

It was funny, really. Charles would do his business when she was in kindergarten, doing some ruthless dealings or other things.

Like right now. Charles was meeting another member of a mafia family in an abandoned warehouse. This man had threatened him, to harm Stella if Charles wouldn’t obey to his commands.

Charles entered the warehouse, his one rule in his head.

Nobody. Touches. Stella.

Only 30 minutes later he was covered in the other man‘s blood, punching and kicking him, when his phone rang. He groaned.

„Yes?“ he spat into the speaker but softened when he heard that it was one of Stella‘s kindergarten teachers. He exchanged some words with her before he hung up.

Charles looked at the bleeding man on the floor.

„You’re lucky today“, Charles said in a dangerous, deep voice. „My daughter forgot her Hello Kitty lunchbox“, he said and left the warehouse.

[annie115]

I am so not over this trope so you’ll be getting another one soon