The Babies ♡

probably gojo was expecting a different kind of roses but I don't see any complaints

My part for the @satosugusato event! 🤌💞

SRH admin is feeding my Sharmmins obsession so well.

how max is portrayed how max is like in in fics : real life :

art by: w0320h

WAIT YOU ARE FOOTBALL NERD

Dude, I am so gonna bother you with questions ✨

The research is KILLING ME SLOWLY

Last match of the season. The game rarely ever comes down to this. Max knows Charles is going to be in his head, always is, before a match. They play West Ham today. Fate isn't entirely in their hands, if Man City wins against Liverpool, they will be second. If they tie or lose, they win. He knows Charles hates that. He knows in his heart, Charles will win. Richmond will win.

"Will you be there?"

Max blinks the sleep out of his eyes, Max is always there. He has loved this sport before Charles. He has loved Richmond longer.

"Of course."

Why are you asking? hangs in the air. Charles tip toes around it, refolding the same shirt thrice. Today, Max will be patient. He tries to be, always. Charles rarely ever leaves him wanting. He gives and he gives without asking. For him, Max will wait. Always.

"If we don't-" his mouth clicks shut, Max wants to pull Charles back into the bed.

"If we don't win, will you still kiss me?"

Max frowns at him, "I will, of course, always kiss you."

"No." He shakes his head,

Then again before sitting at the foot of the bed.

"In the audience, at the railings." He stops the abuse on the shirt in his hand, resting it on Max's duvet covered feet, "If I come to you, will you kiss me? Even if we don't win."

He just had a bad day fr

here you go professor. several pages of home brewed bullshit. as opposed to the chatgpt-brewed bullshit you're used to these days. i hope u enjoy it i worked very hard on it ❤️

It frustrates me that everytime the FIA control of the drivers comes up so much of the discourse focuses on the "let them swear they're not children" part (which is not entirely wrong but really comparatively so unimportant) instead of the part about neutrality, which isn't defined, or the part about moral injury to the FIA which is equally up to their own interpretation.

"Your rut's in a month, right?"

Max opens his cupboard, pulling out three Red Bull shirts and dumping it in is bag, "Yeah, around three weeks, I think."

An arm snakes around his waist, Max rests his back against Charles' chest as the other kisses up his scent gland, "Baby, please carry something other than RB kit."

"Sure," He tugs at an Alpha Tauri, letting it slide off and into the bag.

There's a groan against his neck, Max laughs, Charles is so easy to rile up.

The hand tightens on his waist as Charles sighs, "I want to mate you so bad, Max, it'd be so easy to. I can do it now, you can bite me back."

His stomach swoops, it'd be so easy. He'd be Charles' just like that. Charles will be his.

"If it triggers either of our ruts, we'll miss your home race." He turns around, pulling Charles closer by his waist. His eyes are closed but his face is peaceful, Max cups his cheeks, "and you wanted to mate at home."

"Stupid me."

Max rolls his eyes, pulling the Monegasque's head down to rest on his shoulders, "Yeah, you are."

A smile presses against his shoulder, Max kisses his hairs.

_

The paddock noise feels like something pressing at a live wire exposed in his body.

Every smell carries a scent, every touch is scorching at his skin. They were warned it's sensitive after mating, your senses mingle into one- you feel for two people. Max doesn't even like feeling for himself.

"Maxy!"

His eyes dart towards the source, tension draining as Daniel makes his way to the space between wrapped tyres and the wall.

"Congratulations, fucker!" His body is covering Max's, hands messing the strands placed to perfection. Max feels like home.

"No one knows yet."

Daniel's grin widdens, his eyes zeroing in at the mark. Max feels the heat rising in his cheek. Charles broke skin there, it's red and purple with the blood pooling beneath the surface, he loves it.

He whistles at Max, hesitating a second before putting his arms across his shoulders.

"I can tell. You look like a spooked deer."

Max feels the crimson darken, he pushes the hand off him.

"I am fine, of course."

Daniel purses his lips, "Of course."

A beat.

"I have extra nose blockers?"

Max takes one of the ghastly looking blockers with Pierre's face on it (Secret Santa gift, he hopes.) and dares Daniel to speak anything of it. He is fine, of course.

Maybe with a food poisoning (They should have never cooked themselves) and a sore throat (That, he doesn't regret) and too much sweating (The June of Barcelona is hot.) and he can feel everything Charles does and all Charles feels in Ferrari is pain. It's okay, they told him it'd be like this.

Stsg x Sakamoto Days part. 3/3 ❤️✨