#and charles and carlos… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f1amour · 7 months ago

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「 ✦ F1 GRID — LETS GET PHYSICAL

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist (coming soon)

drivers included | max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, franco colapinto, lewis hamilton

description | drivers and their favorite kinks

content warnings | mature content ahead — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | hope everyone enjoys reading this one! if you have any requests for drabbles or blurbs involving those i write for please send it in and i will try to get it out as soon as possible <3 *not spelled checked*

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— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 ¹

҉ PRAISE KINK !

— whether he praised you or you praised him; max verstappen was an absolute whore for praising

— both in public and behind closed doors he would take the praises only from you. being a three time world champion as many reminded him of his accomplishments he’d down play it. but you? oh he loved when you’d sing his praises

— “you did so great out there, maxie. no one does it like you.” praising him in public after a great race would look like that. behind closed doors was another story; “right there, max. fuck you’re doing so well keep going.” “only you know my body, no one compares”

— on the other hand max loved praising you and he was an absolute menace for it when he’d have you bent over the bed fucking you with his hands gripping your hair; “come on, baby. squeezing me so tight you love being handled like this, hmm?” “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” “such a good girl for me.”

҉ QUICKIES !

— max loved taking his time with you but with his busy schedule especially on race weekends he couldn’t give you enough time. however, he always made the most of the 10-20 minutes you had together on any occasion.

— whether it be 10 minutes before he’s gotta go out for the national anthem or 15 minutes before he is due to attend the press conference he would grab you and take you in any room that had a lock. “fuck that’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby.” “gonna have you cum three times before i gotta be out there in ten minutes. you like that?”

— 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 ⁵⁵

҉ HAIR PULLING KINK !

— the man has beautiful hair…how can he not have a hair pulling kink?

— carlos loved pulling your hair whether it was while you rode his cock or he was taking you from behind; he loved having his hands in your hair

— but it was when you pull his hair that really gets him going both intimately but whenever you’d be watching a movie or out with friends your hand would go to the nape of his neck and travel up to his hair giving it a soft tug

— between your legs carlos is eating you out both sloppily and hungrily, tongue against your aching core his fingers now at your entrance giving you extra pleasure when they’re stretching you out, “fuck. just like that carlos,” you tangle your fingers in his hair giving it a rough tug when he rubs his thumb on your clit

— every thrust his fingers would give your cunt and tongue giving your folds so much attention you’d tug his hair closer to your pussy if that was possible; “fuck, baby, do that again. harder.” “god, hermosa, gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep pulling my hair like that.” “right there, keep doing that princesa. wanna suffocate in your pussy.”

҉ DIRTY TALK !

— his native language being spanish played a role in his love for dirty talking he loved the reaction he’d get out of you when you’d hear him speaking to you in spanish

— morning, noon, night; carlos fucked you any moment he had some free time which was rare but on those occasions he did he make sure to speak his dirty thoughts of you: and to you

— “fuck, my good girl, chokin’ on my cock” “that’s it, hermosa. let them all hear whose fucking your tight pussy…the only man who makes you cum.” “te ves tan perfecta para mí de rodillas llena de mí. mi bella princesa.”

— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂 ¹⁶

҉ ORAL !

— charles loved having you on your knees mouth stuffed with his cock. your lips showing his tip some extra love with a few kisses after finishing in your mouth and you’d take him once again pulling him in your mouth again for another round.

— what he loved the most though? spending hours in between your thighs giving you multiple orgasms until you are begging him to stop (very rare to want him to stop)

҉ ROUGH SEX !

— despite seemingly carrying a calm demeanor around friends & family behind closed doors charles loved being rough with you in bed. especially after yet another week where ferrari fucks up his race he feels the best place to let out his stress and anger is on you. which you gladly took.

— rough and sloppy kisses you share entering his hotel room to his rough hands pushing you onto the bed and fucking you with his fingers until you’re squirting all over him and the bedsheets.

— your face pressed down on the mattress while he takes you from behind arching your back and yanking on your hair pulling you close to his chest he’d give you another rough thrush while whispering the most vulgar sentences to come out of his mouth.

— 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 ⁴

҉ COCKWARMING !

— sometimes being weeks apart from each other you wanted to feel as close as possible while catching up on what you’d miss. you’d get settled on his lap moaning at the feeling of him stretching you after being gone for so long. you’d get comfortable and you would both talk about what you had been up to the last few weeks

— streaming with max you’d make sure his camera was off before you climbed on his lap. he would be confused as to what you were doing but the moment you take his cock out of his briefs and sinking down on him he’d hold his moans in and grab your waist pulling you closer.

- turning his mic off he lets out a whine when you rock your hips against him, “fuck, baby, can’t do this right now i’m so close to winning.” you’d agree with him and tell him to finish the game you’ll just wait for him; still sitting on him with his cock deep inside you. safe to say he lost the game just to play again, enjoying the feeling of his cock resting inside you

҉ SHOWER SEX !

— lando loved it when he’d be showering and you’d join him halfway through giving him some extra attention that he desperately wanted. he loved the intimacy about it when you’d help rinse of the shampoo in his hair or how he’d glide the body gel all over your body

— you loved it when it was a post race win or podium and he’d drag you to the small bathroom in his drivers room and shove you against the shower wall giving your pussy some extra love while you pull on his hair before he would have his cock shoved deep in your aching cunt, getting some loud moans out of you which he’d cover up with a kiss

— 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 ⁴⁴

҉ PHONE SEX !

— being a formula 1 driver was a demanding job which required lewis to travel almost all year long and you couldn’t always go along with him due to your job. you missed him all the time when he was gone but especially on the days when you were extra needy were the worst

— that’s why he’d stay on the phone with you all day despite his busy schedule. he’d have one airpod in while having to be in a meeting not listening to the less important subjects so he’d listen to you and what you were doing for the day

— but then on days where your vibrator wasn’t enough you’d call or facetime your boyfriend begging him to help you through your orgasm, it also helped that he had the most soothing voice that constantly brought you to tears when he’d have your face shoved on the mattress, ass pressed against him as he fucked you

— “oh…’m so close, lew” you’d whimper through the facetime call, your phone propped against your nightstand while you grind your aching cunt against a pillow. desperately needing more release your reach to rub your clit when lewis’ voice fills the phone, “i didn’t say you could do that, did i?” he questions, he was due to be in the media pen in 10 minutes but he wouldn’t let you take the easy way out to cum before he left

— “please, baby, need to cum please,” you beg lewis as your movements speed up. “don’t use your hand. keep fucking youself on my pillow, i’ll be home in a few days and take such good care of you. that’s it baby, be a good girl and cum for me.” his encouragement is more than enough to have you squeezing your breasts and nipples as your release spills all over the pillow

҉ MIRROR SEX !　

— you weren’t sure if it was you or lewis who decided adding a mirror to the ceiling of your bedroom was the best option for your sex life but either way you were two happy people

— you enjoyed watching lewis fucking you his eyes meeting your through the mirror; he loved having you bounce on his cock watching the way you threw your head back moans filling the room. he loved it so much he requested his drivers room to have a mirror on the ceiling as well. after many warnings not to they finally gave in and gave him what he (and you) wanted

— his hand around your throat with two fingers deep inside your pussy he’d whisper dirty thoughts into your ear, “you look so pretty for me like this. wanna see you cum for me, sweet girl. that’s it you’re squeezing my fingers so good,” you’d bite your lip trying to suppress your moans in the small room knowing anyone walking by could easily hear you

— 𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈 ⁸¹

҉ DRY HUMPING !　

— again, being a formula one driver was a demanding sport. a demanding sport that kept your sex life with oscar very low many, many, many times. so when you had the chance to feel a little bit closer to your boyfriend you took the chance.

— whether against the wall of his drivers room with your clothed pussy rubbing against his race suit or in bed on his lap before ha has to catch a flight to the next race; you were both absolutely infatuated with each other and dry humping

— drivers room; oscar would be leaned up against the wall while your hips grind against his thigh, “osc,” you whine as he moves your panties to the side rubbing your clit while you con the to fuck yourself on him, “shh, be a good girl for me and stay quiet. then after the race i’ll stuff you full of my cock all night.” his words have you biting down on his shoulder as you cum all over his thigh

҉ SQUIRTING !　

— he had discovered this one night while you both watched a movie, laying between his thighs your head pressed against his chest his hand trailed down to your shorts pulling them off with nothing else underneath he worked his fingers inside you. soon enough you had squirted all over his hand and bedsheets; a first for both of you

— that just started something inside oscar which was wanting to make you squirt any chance he got. you could be exhausted from work or a long flight but you’d let him have his way with you. at the end you’d be filling the room with sounds of pleasure as his fingers or cock fucked your tight cunt until he reached the exact spot that had you squirting all over him

— "so wet for me, and so fuckin' tight." "i can feel how close you are baby, gonna make a mess all over our sheets, hmm?" he praises you, his fingers curling deep inside you. his groans and your moans fill the room as you squirt all over his hand and sheets making a mess like he had said. pulling away from you he now plays between your thighs and smiles up at you, “time to clean this mess up.”

— 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⁴³

҉ DIRTY TALK !　

— you’ve seen franco in interviews he was a talker so it wasn’t a surprised he was a talker behind closed doors as well. he had a filthy mouth on him when it came to you and he never stopped praising you

— “eso es amor, apretándome tan bien. let me hear your pretty moans.” “cum all over my cock, amor. fuck, fuck—look so perfect for me.” “gonna let me fuck you against the door? gonna make sir everyone hears what a filthy whore you are.” you’d think by now you’d get tired of his constant yapping (sometimes you did) but when he fucked you? you loved hearing his voice the entire time

҉ ORAL !　

— the man was good with his tongue what more could you say? he was infatuated with having his tongue on your pussy for hours on end tasting how sweet you were. buried between your thighs as your hand stung on his hair, whines and moans escape your mouth begging him for more

— “franco, ‘m so close, right there,” you gasp feeling his tongue poking in your cunt as he devours you, “es todo princesa, déjalo ir por mí. mierda. sabes tan dulce.” you cum and he doesn’t let a drop escape his tongue as he licks you clean

— 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎 ³ [retired]

҉ THIGH RIDING !　

— the man had a tattooed thigh…how could you not want to ride it? it first started on a night out with friends enjoying the sunset at the beach when daniel placed you on his lap your hand traced circles on the tattoos that littered his thigh; one thing led to another and you snuck off to the car and he let your imaginations come to life

— at a club filled with loud music and dark lights you’d take advantage of the moment and grind yourself on his thigh enjoying the feeling, at home while he works on sending out some emails you’d keep him company with your core pressing against his thigh, anyplace and anywhere you were a menace for his thighs

— he loved it too, so much he’d started adding some more tattoos to his collection on his thighs which made you even more excited to ride him only to wait until he was healed to do so. you could ride his other thigh but something about fucking yourself on his tattooed thigh felt so so much more enthralling

— “you look so pretty like this, ridin' my thigh...makin' yourself cum.” “make yourself cum on my thigh right now, good girl. feels good, doesn't it?” his encouraging words bringing you to your third orgasm of the night just form riding his thigh, “come on, honey, gonna give me one more then i’ll fuck you for however long you want”

҉ FILMING !

— daniel loved having videos or pictures of the activities you got up to in the bedroom with each other. he loved watching the videos while he was away from you weeks on end. however, he loved it more whenever you got the chance to film each other especially for fun not because he’ll be gone for a few weeks and needed someone to fill the void

— daniel comfortably laying down between your thighs lapping at you like there’s no tomorrow, “danny, feel so good…oh,” you whine trying to hold the camera that was pointed at him steadily but you were so close. “that’s it baby, cum all over me you taste so fucking sweet. could never get enough of this,” he says only getting a second to breathe before he’s diving back between your thighs to bring you to your second orgasm of the night

— you loved the risk of having an album on your phones that were filled of videos and pictures of the two of you or sometimes of just one of you. you’d created a small album curated for daniel filled of pictures of you in lingerie or fully nude; the videos were another story. filled with you fucking yourself with your fingers, vibrator, a pillow; you made sure daniel was fulfilled for the weeks he wouldn’t have you

— daniel made a small photo album for you as well more so filled of the two of you, he knew how much you loved rewatching the videos of you two fucking. you loved the way he propped the camera against the nightstand and had you riding his cock until you begged him to let you cum or the time he fucked you in his drivers room facing the mirror on his door his hands on your breasts squeezing them while you rode him back against his chest holding onto the camera shakily and almost dropping it when he’d thrust up into your cunt

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jungwnies · 22 days ago

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f1 grid (1/2) | two string bathing suit

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : your f1!boyfriend reacting to you showing him two strings as a bathing suit (tiktok trend - click for reference)

୨ৎ : genre : romance comedy ୨ৎ : tws : slightly suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 2073

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : a rare wednesday post that isn't a solo story !! also i will be putting a pause on request bc my inbox is flooded, but once i have released a majority of the stories (within the next few weeks everyday there will be a new post in honor of 10k) they will open up again ty guys so much for the support <3

ʚ・max verstappen

“max,” you called from the bathroom, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “don’t freak out.”

he barely looked up from his phone. “that’s the worst way to start a sentence.”

you stepped out, deadpan. wearing… if you could even call it that… a “swimsuit” made of two threads, three knots, and maybe half a square inch of material. total. it looked like it was crocheted by a sleep-deprived spider. you posed with a straight face.

max blinked. then blinked again, slower.

“no,” he said, setting his phone down with almost religious care. “absolutely not.”

“what do you mean?” you said, fighting to keep a straight face. “it’s trendy. minimalist.”

“that’s not minimalist. that’s missing.”

you twirled, the strings shifting dangerously. “it’s high fashion.”

max stood up like he was about to perform an exorcism. “that’s not fashion. that’s barely science. you could sneeze and the whole thing would combust.”

“i think it’s cute.”

“i think it’s… illegal.”

you walked over slowly. he didn’t move, just looked absolutely offended by the garment clinging to your body with the hope and optimism of dental floss. “so… i can’t wear it on the yacht?”

he stared at you, stunned. “if you wear that on the yacht, i’m jumping into the ocean and letting nature take me.”

you burst out laughing, and he immediately buried his face in his hands. “who sold you that? who allowed this to exist?”

“i made it myself.”

his head snapped up in horror. “what.”

“yarn. patience. emotional damage.”

max grabbed the nearest towel and threw it around your shoulders like he was shielding your soul. “you need help. professional help.”

you leaned in, still grinning. “so that’s a no?”

he groaned. “i love you. but you’re grounded.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you stepped out slowly. wearing… well, calling it a swimsuit would be legally questionable. two strings of yarn tied together with the optimism of a third-grader’s friendship bracelet. honestly, it looked like you raided a kindergarten art bin and called it couture.

lewis lowered his sunglasses.

paused.

stared.

“be honest,” he said, slowly standing up. “did you lose a bet? or is this, like, a charity stunt i don’t know about?”

you fought to keep a straight face. “it’s my new swimsuit. do you like it?”

“do i like it?” he walked in a slow circle around you, studying it like a museum exhibit. “you look like someone gave a hamster a crochet hook and no supervision.”

“be serious.”

“oh, i am.” he waved a hand at the barely-there strings. “you’re out here dressed like a cursed macramé project.”

you pouted. “it’s artistic.”

“it’s traumatic.”

you posed dramatically. “but imagine this on the beach… champagne… sun setting…”

“yeah, and a full-blown scandal.” he crossed his arms. “you’re gonna flash everyone.”

you smirked. “so you’re saying it’s a little much?”

“i’m saying it’s one wardrobe malfunction away from me throwing my entire body over yours like a security guard.”

you grinned, stepping closer. “but you’d still let me wear it?”

he paused.

then? “yes. but only indoors. with the curtains closed. and a blanket.”

you laughed as he wrapped you up in the nearest hoodie and muttered, “i need a drink. and therapy. and maybe a glue gun.”

ʚ・george russell

you walked into the living room with the fakest innocent smile on your face and the largest box you could find on amazon. george was sitting on the couch, laptop open, looking like a ceo of something important.

“i got something for the trip,” you said sweetly.

he looked up. “that box is huge. did you order a tent?”

you beamed. “bikini.”

he blinked. “that’s not a bikini-sized box. that’s an appliance-sized box.”

you set it down and started dramatically peeling off the layers — tissue paper, unnecessary foam, even a fake ribbon — while george just watched in mild horror.

“is this an unboxing video?” he asked, deadpan. “should i film this for content? are we reviewing the manufacturer’s efficiency?”

you reached the final layer.

and pulled out the swimsuit.

or… the two lonely strings of yarn and a prayer that you were calling a swimsuit.

george stared.

and stared.

“…where’s the rest of it?” he finally asked, voice cracking ever so slightly.

“that’s it!”

he shut his laptop slowly. “that’s not it. that’s… that’s not a garment. that’s yarn.”

“it’s cute!”

“it’s nonexistent.”

you turned it around, holding it by the strings like it was a spider you weren’t sure was dead. “you don’t think it’s cute?”

he stood up like he needed to physically confront the reality of the situation. “how did you even find this? who sold it to you? did you blackmail someone? did it come with a warning label?”

“i packaged it myself.”

he blinked. “you what.”

“it’s a prank, babe.”

silence.

then, he slowly sank back onto the couch, covered his face, and mumbled, “you’re the reason i have stress dreams.”

you dropped the string bikini on his chest and smiled. “but you love me anyway.”

“i do,” he sighed. “i just… wish you loved fabric.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos was lying on the bed, one arm behind his head, scrolling his phone while you rifled through your suitcase.

“i got a new swimsuit for the trip,” you said casually, pulling out a folded towel to fake wrap the "swimsuit" in.

he hummed. “another one?”

you smirked. “this one’s special.”

he turned his head just in time to see you dramatically unwrap what could only be described as two strings of yarn connected by stubbornness and delusion.

carlos sat up.

paused.

blinked.

“…dios mío.”

you fought to keep a straight face. “it’s cute, right?”

he stood up slowly, like his body was moving while his brain was buffering. “that’s not a swimsuit. that’s—that’s a trap. you wear that, and i’m fighting everyone.”

you held it up by the strings. “it’s kind of artistic.”

“it’s kind of criminal.”

you twirled it once. “it’s technically wearable.”

“it’s technically two pieces of string and a death wish.”

you laughed, tossing it onto the bed. “so you’re saying you don’t want me wearing it at the hotel pool?”

“hotel pool?” he gave you an incredulous look. “you can’t even wear that in our apartment without risking emotional damage.”

“too much?”

“i’ve seen paper towels with more coverage.”

you walked over and looped your arms around his neck, grinning. “jealous?”

he rested his forehead against yours, sighing dramatically. “no. i’m concerned. for your safety. and my blood pressure.”

you leaned in close. “you’re just mad because you know i’d steal the show.”

he kissed your cheek. “i’m mad because i know i’d get arrested for public indecency by association.”

you laughed into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you like a man who had just stared into the abyss.

“i’m hiding that,” he muttered. “i don’t even trust you to prank me with it again.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

“charles?” you called sweetly, stepping into the hotel room with a mischievous grin and a suspicious little shopping bag.

he glanced up from the bed, where he was sitting with his ipad and airpods, one brow raised. “yes, amour?”

“i got a swimsuit for this weekend. want to see it?”

he smiled, setting the ipad aside. “of course.”

you pulled it from the bag slowly, two strings. only strings. it might have once been a swimsuit, but now? it was a scandal waiting to happen.

charles stared.

then blinked once.

then smiled. slowly.

“mon dieu…” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “is that legal?”

“technically,” you shrugged, holding it up. “there’s a front. and a back. i kind of wish it was thinner.”

he tilted his head, eyes trailing the string in your hands with the fascination of a man watching his entire moral compass short-circuit. “and you plan to wear this in public…it's already thin enough?”

“maybe. why?”

he stood, crossing the room in three slow, measured steps. “because, chérie… if you wear that outside, i will never survive it.”

you smirked. “you hate it?”

he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear. “no,” he whispered. “i want you to wear it. but only where i can see you.”

you blinked.

“put it on,” he said, voice low, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt. “let me see everything.”

you burst out laughing, hitting his chest lightly. “charles!”

he laughed too, pulling you in by the waist. “you’re evil,” he said against your neck, voice playful. “you come in here with two strings and expect me to be normal?”

“you seemed pretty into it.”

“i am,” he said shamelessly. “but mon amour… if you wear that out, i’ll have to start swinging. and i don’t want to go to jail in monaco.”

ʚ・lando norris

you stood in front of the mirror, struggling to keep a straight face as you unwrapped the tiny bag you’d stuffed the “swimsuit” into. two strings. one knot. less coverage than a shoelace.

“baaaabe,” you called sweetly. “i got a new swimsuit. wanna see?”

“yeah, sure!” lando shouted from the other room. “wait—should i come in there or—?”

you opened the door slowly, string bikini dangling from one finger like it was a precious artifact. “no need. just look.”

he turned.

froze.

squinted.

then: “what is that?!”

you fought a grin. “it’s my new bikini.”

“that’s not a bikini,” he said, already walking toward you like he needed to inspect it up close for safety reasons. “that’s—that’s a joke, right?”

you turned it around like a qvc host. “front and back. simple.”

he gaped at you. “it’s a crime scene.”

“very fashion-forward.”

“it’s barely forward! it’s not even forward-adjacent!”

you were shaking with laughter now as he waved his arms in genuine disbelief. “where did you even buy that? why did you buy that? how did they ship it? in a matchbox?!”

“i thought it’d be cute on the beach.”

he took the swimsuit carefully, like it might bite him, and held it up with two fingers. “there is more fabric in a tea bag.”

“i think you’re being dramatic.”

“i think you’re being dangerous.”

you stepped in close, resting your hands on his chest. “so you don’t want me to wear it?”

lando looked at you. then at the strings. then back at you.

“i want you to burn it.”

you grinned. “too late. i packed it.”

“i’m not letting you leave the hotel room.”

“promise?”

his jaw dropped. “you’re the worst.”

you winked. “and yet.”

he groaned into your shoulder, muttering, “i need therapy. and a one-piece. for you.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you didn’t warn him.

you just walked into the hotel room, holding what looked like a piece of yarn with a dream. no dramatic intro, no buildup — just straight chaos.

“new swimsuit,” you said casually, tossing it onto the bed like it wasn’t about to destroy him.

oscar turned from his laptop, expression as flat and unreadable as always… until he saw it.

he stared.

blink.

longer stare.

“…that’s it?”

“that’s it.”

he sat back in the chair slowly, arms crossed. “that’s not a swimsuit.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you don’t like it?”

he took a very long pause. processing. buffering. internally screaming.

“i… don’t disapprove,” he said finally, choosing his words like they were part of a hostage negotiation. “but… i’m trying to understand where the rest of it went.”

you held it up by a single string. “it’s trendy. daring. very… cute.”

“it’s barely thread.”

you grinned. “so you do disapprove.”

he didn’t answer right away, just tilted his head, looking you up and down like he was trying to calculate structural integrity. “…if it makes you happy to wear that, then it’s fine.”

you squinted. “but you’re dying inside.”

he blinked. “a little.”

you walked closer, draping the swimsuit over his shoulder like a sash. “you don’t think i’d look hot?”

“that’s not the issue,” he said immediately, not even blinking. “the issue is physics.”

you burst out laughing, and that finally cracked a smile from him — soft, a little resigned, but full of affection.

“i trust you,” he added, voice quiet but firm. “i just… don’t trust gravity. or wind. or humanity.”

you kissed his cheek. “so private pool only?”

he nodded. “preferably with no windows.”

you leaned back, watching him eye the bikini like it was a cursed relic. “you’re kind of obsessed with me.”

he smiled again, this time without hesitation. “obviously.”