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clubecascadenoz
CLUBE DE LITERATURA CAS(C)A DE NOZ
ladyeggplant
at the bottom of a well
jilltrill
Jill Trill
Text
Marc is writhing beneath Valentino, hands clawing at the white sheets. Though it can't be seen clearly through the flat screen television, it is obvious to all, that Valentino has his hand on Marc's cock. Valentino huffs a breathy laugh at Marc's scrunched up face before leaning forward and closing his lips around his nipple.
Cristian pauses the video at that point to Marc's relief. Marc gets to keep the way he jumps up with a groan, gets to keep the way Valentino's mouth absorbs his sounds. The way Valentino presses an open mouthed kiss to the hollow of his throat as Marc cums, strings of white shooting against the flat plane of Valentino's abdomen.
Marc feels the bile his stomach rush to storm his oesophagus, feels the very path it takes to claw it's way out. He swallows.
Alex's face is twisted into something complicated, Marc is sure his face is doing something similar. He can't quite bring himself to face his grim-faced team members. Instead he elects to push his face into his hands, pushing back his curls in frustration. Cristian clears his throat and Marc has to look up.
The press manager looks at him expectantly, as do the other members of his team. For the first time Marc realises how dishevelled they all look. Marc feels sorry that they had to wake up early in the morning because of him. Marc finds himself realising that people don't usually wake up at 5am to make breakfast smoothies and workout.
Maybe they can see it in the way Marc's face turns blank at their glances, the way he can't quite meet their eyes. Cristian sighs disappointedly before turning his attention back to the drawing board, gesturing and articulating something that Marc knows is important but can't quite bring himself to listen.
He knows Cristian has bought him some time. He still needs to explain it all, the team has to put out a statement. Marc doesn't know how to say that he was once in a romantic relationship with Valentino Rossi. Doesn't know how to say that Valentino - kinky bastard - liked to record their escapades. Doesn't know how to say that he thinks Valentino leaked the tape to get back at him.
Marc keeps his head low as Alex guides him to wherever he needs to be. He has no intention of facing the vultures of the paddock just yet. He can hear the rise and fall of the paddock, the beating heart of the pen that tethered him to the sport he loved so. But today they talk about him in a way never done before, they whisper. He doesn't need to hear his name to feel the heat of the glances people throw his way. Maybe it's that, or maybe it's the way he feels weak in his knees or maybe its how the patch of green grass is wet but Marc stumbles.
It's only when he looks up to steady himself does he see Valentino. The older Italian looks entirely composed, almost effortlessly. His arms are folded as his curls fly around his face in the summer breeze, he squints under the shining sun. For a horrifyingly long time Marc continues to look at Valentino, urging him to look right back. He doesn't. Marc knows his feelings are written all over his face, he never has been able to hide. He knows that his eyes support the same shiny sheen from all those years ago, knows if he spoke his voice would crack with the same pubescent squeakiness he supported more than a decade ago. His eyes meet the concrete once more.
He stews at the unfairness of it all. Recognises that Valentino's holiness saves him from the condemnation. Knows that they'll point at him and laugh ('what did you do to lose Valentino Rossi'). They will want to know, what was so unforgiveable that Valentino Rossi cast him out. Marc will have no answers, how will he say that one day he woke up not to the warmth of Valentino's arms but to the cold of their bedsheets. How does he say that in all his euphoria he hadn't even expected an unamused Uccio Salucci looking down at him. Hadn't expected the older Italian to drop his clothes onto him, face scrunched up in disgust. Doesn't know how to say that he expected Valentino to waltz in like a Knight in shining armour, explaining it all. Doesn't know how to say that as Uccio threw him out like trash it was cold but not as cold as the shoulder Valentino gave Marc the next time he saw him.
After all these years, Valentino still gets to leave him out in the cold as he enjoys the warmth. After all these years Marc has to take it all, take the jokes, the questions. The barbed wire comments that Marc is oh-so good at pretending don't actually hurt ('you ruined the sport') the words they all say tinged with the essence of Valentino ('do you think maybe you were a bit aggressive at that corner). They aren't your words' Marc wants to say to the journalists, wants to see the penny drop. He would never admit it because he knows what they say about people who make up imaginary scenarios but sometimes he imagines them saying sorry ('sorry for laughing whilst you broke') and he imagines himself saying 'fuck you'. Except he would never actually say that, he would forgive and forget in a heartbeat if it meant they knew him.
Marc wishes Valentino left them with the words he would say into his back ('you're so pretty'), into his forehead ('I'm proud of you'), into his mouth ('you're a champion baby'). Marc wishes they could see the Marc that Valentino wanted, why did Valentino show them the Marc that he discarded.
He doesn't even realise that Alex has led him to the company car until he is being pushed in and the door closes behind him. Marc hasn't been able to articulate an explanation to Alex, truth be told Marc isn't too sure he has an explanation. Maybe Alex senses it, the way Marc's entire world has been thrown off kilter, he places a hand on Marc's balled up fist. Something tells Marc that Alex doesn't really care about the contents of the tape, he releases his fist, finally breathing.
He sits opposite Álex at the table that leads into his suite, face propped up onto his fists as his brother looks at him.
"Sooo?" The younger Marquez brother questions with a raised brow, elongating the word, it would seem teasing if it wasn't for the way his voice cracks.
"Valentino and I had something" Marc admits stiffly, resisting the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt. Alex's face shutters.
"Something?" He questions incredulously, face doing something complicated once more.
"That video was more than something" The younger Marqeuz brother huffs, Marc blanches, he doesn't know how long the video was, doesn't know what his brother saw.
"You were in love?" Álex questions with such raw softness in his voice and Marc feels as though he's going to vomit on the very expensive rug before him.
Marc likes to pretend it wasn't love. Likes to pretend it was some sort of teenage infatuation. But -
"Yes" his hands feel clammy and his heart beats faster against his chest at the admission.
"You were devastated when Valentino said-" Álex pauses closing his eyes so hard that Marc is sure he can see patterns under his eyelids.
"I didn't understand why back then" it's like Álex is talking to himself now.
"Why you wouldn't stop sobbing" He gets up, there's a shiny sheen to his eyes.
"Why you wouldn't eat or drink anything, why you wanted to keep his posters in a box besides your bed, why you'd sit on the corner of your bed holding the posters, unfolding and then folding" Álex is pacing the room now, Marc hadn't even known that his brother was there to watch him lose his mind over Valentino. Marc wants to go back, turn around so he can see Álex sitting on the staircase that leads straight to his bedroom. Wants to call his brother into his bedroom and tell him not to worry so much for him, he will be okay. This is nothing as dramatic as your little brain is thinking.
"But you loved him" Álex says, Marc feels the words stab into his heart like a dagger.
"That's why" Álex says it as though he has found all the answers as he slumps onto the seat besides him. Marc supposes he does have the answers for why his brother broke that one time.
"Yes" Marc acknowledges, he doesn't have it in himself to stay seated with his brother and talk about it. He knows it's rude but he stumbles away to his bedroom. Álex doesn't even call for him.
Marc doesn't even know how tired he was until he closes his door and slumps against it, feeling all the energy leave. He thinks he was trying to be brave for his brother.
He kicks his shoes off, doesn't care where they end up. Normally he would make sure to change into his pyjamas, fold his clothes into neat little squares but today, he slumps onto the bed.
He rests his phone on his pillow, pretends like this is how he always sleeps. Pretends that as the screen on his phone lights up with messages and calls he isn't looking for one specific name.
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I was tame, I was gentle ’til the circus life made me mean
“Don’t you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth”
Who’s afraid of little old me?
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Tell me, when did your winning smile
Begin to look like a smirk?
When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?
I hope she'll be a beautiful fool
Who takes my spot next to you
No, I didn't mean that
Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury
You haven't met the new me yet
#does this make sense#idk#marc marquez#valentino rossi#rosquez#motogp#motogp rpf#web weave#web weaving#marco bezzecchi
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I am so glad you discovered rosquez and are using your powers of writing to write such delicious angst!!!
No bcs I thought brocedes was the angstiest a motorsport ship could get and then rosquez happened. Like wht do you mean Marc had a whole shrine for Valentino in his bedroom and Valentino won't even acknowledge it because he literally says "Is it true that he had a poster with me in his bedroom? I would like to check." Like as if Marc's fanboyism hasn't been documented. I'm sorry I feel sick everytime I think about it.
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your mean au hurts so mich. I hope Marc hooks up with Dovi 🥺❤️
I'm ngl I don't know who dovi is because I just got into motogp this season so maybe someone can tell me the marc/dovi lore.
Also Marc needs to become emotionally stable before he hooks up with ANYONE
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3:
Marco has never liked Marc Marquez. The man who haunts Valentino, whose spirit lingers in the nooks and crannies of the ranch. Truth be told, Marco hadn't felt any sort of way about the older Spaniard, not until he was fifteen years old, and suddenly he had to be Bez. Marco maintains that Marc stole his name. To a more delusional degree, Marco maintains that Marc stole his hero. Either way, Marco Bezzecchi does not like Marc Marquez.
It doesn't feel wrong, Valentino can't even say his name, and Franky speaks of him as if he's the devil incarnate, talking about how he ruined the sport. Of course, it's only when he's older does Marco realise that all the words Franky uses to describe Marc are Valentino's. The implications of that revelation sends Marco spiraling so he resists the urge to ask Franky,'Do you even know Marc?' He knows it will make him a hypocrite because he uses the same words to describe Marc. Pecco is too mild mannered to outwardly show his resentment towards Marc, but Marco knows he feels as though he's always running to match him, just to show Valentino. Luca is the only one who speaks about Marc, like as though he created the moon and the stars. He never has a bad thing to say, and Marco always felt as though Luca was too soft, but for the first time, Marco finds himself wondering if it was Valentino who did something unforgivable and not Marc.
Marco allows these ideas to fester in his brain, never actually taking a moment to pull them apart. Not until a random Friday afternoon. Valentino is in the paddock, strutting around as though he owns the place (he does). He stops in front of him, pressing a kiss onto his cheek as a greeting. He starts talking, but Marco can't hear a single word. Something is strange about the way he smiles through him. There's a smirk on his lips that makes Marco feel as though he's the pawn in a game he doesn't quite understand. The kiss, the way his hand palms his cheek it's normal, Valentino does it to everyone, and all the academy riders agree it's very paternal, Marco secretly thinks it's more maternal but he never says it out loud. But today, when Valentino does it, Marco feels his stomach bottom out. It feels dirty, and Marco wants to slap his hand away. He wants to question the older man for putting up boundaries between them, only to desecrate those very boundaries. But then it's over in a few seconds, Valentino is long gone, and when Marco turns around to see Marc looking as stricken as he feels he immediately knows. His stomach sinks oh he thinks as his ears ring, and now Marco knows exactly why it was weird. He knows how Valentino thinks. He knows that Valentino only did it to mess with Marc, and if he ever told him that it made him uncomfortable, he would apologise and try to make it better. But Marco is not about to open the can of worms that is the relationship between Marc and Valentino. For the first time, Marco thinks about all the ideas in his head.
Marco doesn't know if he should tell Valentino that he thinks he's ruined something in Marc. He had only wanted to confirm his suspicion, but then suddenly had frozen with an unhealthy pallor to his face. He had called Marc's name twice, and he still remained in a dissociative state. Only a poke to his thigh had dragged him out of his head space, and then Marco fumbled through a half-assed attempt to comfort the confused spaniard before slinking away.
All in all, Marco feels as though he's in deeper shit than he ever expected to be, and a part of him regrets turning back to look at Marc.
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Part 1
TW: Marc is uncomfortable with valentino touching him but as soon as valentino notices this he stops.
Part 2:
"He's all yours," Marco huffs sullenly as he finds a seat next to Marc.
Marc finds himself rolling his eyes at the theatrics of the younger rider and resists the urge to tell him to get lost. He spies Alex looking over at them curiously from across the paddock, and Marc hopes that the cameras don't capture this bizarre interaction and turn it into a big deal.
Marco turns to him, eyes full of resentment. He looks him up and down and huffs.
"I don't see it," he deduces with an air of superiority as he crosses his arms, leans back, and relaxes.
"What do you want, Bezzecchi?" Marc intonates monotonously.
"Wanna know why he fucks you" Marco says it so casually, as if talking about the weather that Marc doesn't even comprehend it is at first.
When it hits him, he feels his heart sink, and his mouth feels dry. Do they laugh at him, when Valentino fucks into Marco do they laugh at how sometimes Marc needs him to stop because it's too much. When Valentino finishes Marco off with his hand, do they laugh at how he sometimes he jumps like as if he's touched a live wire when Valentino gets his hand on him.
Marco pokes his thigh with his index finger, it jolts him out of his brain and he must have been really out of it because Marco looks at him with concern in his eyes.
"I do see it," he mumbles, hiding his face in his parka jacket before awkwardly clambering away with a nod. Marc takes a moment to understand and finds himself releasing a breathy laugh at the young Italians' attempt to comfort him.
Marc makes his way to his motorhome, heart still pounding in his chest. He doesn't like being the dirty little secret. He doesn't like being the butt of the joke more. He doesn't notice how deep he is into his thoughts until he feels someone squeeze his wrist so casually. He knows who it is, but he still turns back. Valentino's pearly canines greet him, and he knows exactly what he wants. He all too ready to give it.
Valentino holds Marc's waist with one hand as he peppers open-mouthed kisses across the column of his throat. The other hand holds Marc's wrists in place. Marc feels sick. His spine is ramrod straight, and he can feel his hands shake, but he doesn't think Valentino cares. Not when his hand goes to tug at Marc's hair before creating a path towards his boxers. He closes his so tight that he sees patterns behind his eyelids, and he doesn't even realise he isn't breathing until Valentino breathes a strangled "Marc?".
Marc opens his eyes. Blinks a bit and promptly realises that it wasn't just his hands shaking but his whole body, the whimpers from his mouth weren't of pleasure. He doesn't even realise that Valentino has released his wrists until he finds he can reach for the collar of his shirt.
"No, it's okay," he says as he pulls Valentino closer and tries to plant a kiss on his downturned lips. The older man just turns his head. Marc's lips meet Valentino's cheek.
"It's okay," he says again, this time into Valentino's cheek. Valentino doesn't do anything.
"Please," Marc pleads, shame pooling at the bottom of his stomach. The plea snaps Valentino out of his daze, and he jerks out of Marc's hand. He doesn't take his eyes off Marc, not as he steps out of the bed or as he puts his shoes back on. It becomes too much, and Marc has to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling whilst he waits for Valentino to leave. If he looked long enough, he would have seen the way Valentino's entire face shuttered, how his chest heaved up and down erratically, but instead, he hears the click of the door. Again.
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january-march 2024
ao3
be sweet to me baby (rosquez) by @moonshynecybin
Not written for me but it came out on my birthday and I considered it the best present possible.
butterfly effect (dovquez) by @lestelledreams
This was so soft. And tender. I was right there with them and it was beautiful.
once and almost completely (bezz/cele) by @crozley
Hot shit. Hot shit.
ace of cups, the fool, eight of wands (bezz/cele) by @baking-soda
Do you wanna know how many times I reread this? Truth is, I don't even know myself.
A House in Nebraska (rosquez) by @austenaire
As a French person, the choice of city in this one is so funny to me but that aside, it was a really nice read, I promise. And that last line is very Vale.
steamroller (rosquez) by anonymous
Yes these two were made to be playful in bed. "So I win?" !!!! Very into the banter there, I don't like being sad but it was okay there, worth it.
this is a love story (rosquez) by @anitalianfrie
Mixed Media AU. Please look at this (on a computer) for the sheer amount of work that went into it. Insanely beautiful.
kill your heroes (rosquez) by @moonshynecybin
PWP to end all PWP. I am so in love, it's so hot and fun and perfect.
young hot trouble (enea/diggia) by @anitalianfrie
Yes. Hot. Give me more.
situations like this (casey/vale) by anonymous
Things that are absolutely delicious in this : the characterization of the two of them, Valentino's lines, Casey's internal monologue, how hot they are.
tumblr
omega verse pecco/luca by @baking-soda
rosquez feminization by @moonshynecybin
pecco/luca sex thoughts by @baking-soda
mr. and mrs. smith rosquez by @topnotchquark
virgin sacrifice rosquez by @love-leah
pecco/luca harem au by @baking-soda
abo rosquez with marc's heat by @love-leah
bezz/cele kissing thoughts by @f1vegas
ski resort dovquez by @lastlatebraker
rosquez + marc topping by @baking-soda
rosquez cyborg au by @vanillow
pecco/luca moment by @uwabbittuwabbit
pecco/bezz nightclub moment by @love-leah
rosquez abo + their bond post divorce by @moonshynecybin
rosquez + reporter marc au by @moonshynecybin
bezz/marc body swap by @anitalianfrie
royalty au rosquez by @love-leah
rosquez only fans au by @hotmessmaxpress
marc knows mean (rosquez, bezz/vale) by @thewriters-world
marc/vale/bezz threesome by @moonshynecybin
bezz/cele + confession by @yekoc
And like, this feels a little self-centered but I feel so blessed every time @moonshynecybin develop any kind of FCO AU thoughts (with me and others). Turns out you can admire artists from afar and then work with them months later, how insane is that.
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My friend Michael and I are walking home arguing about the movie.
He says that he believes a person can love someone and still be able to murder that person.
I say, No, that’s not love. That’s attachment.
Michael says, No, that’s love. You can love someone, then come to a day when you’re forced to think “it’s him or me” think “me” and kill him.
I say, Then it’s not love anymore.
Michael says, It was love up to then though.
Credits to: @sixteenthprince who first did this with brocedes and also to @valsmotive who also did it with brocedes and whose post inspired this. Also, credits to Marie Howe, who wrote 'After the Movie'
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Part 2
Marc knows mean.
Mean is the way Valentino presses on the jutting v-line of his hip as he takes his cock into his callused hand. Thumbing at the mushroom head, shark-like smile on his lips as he flicks his wrist, throwing his head back with delighted laughter as Marc whimpers and writhes beneath him. Sliding a finger through the mess on Marc's spasming washboard abs and pushes it into Marc's mouth. Using the tissue on the bedside table to clean his finger before throwing the box at Marc with a snarled 'clean yourself' and then leaving the room with a resounding click of the door.
Valentino is especially mean when they lock eyes in the paddock after illicit rendezvous, and he shoots Marc a devious smirk that catches at his stomach. When he turns his attention back to Marco, pressing a hand to his curls, pressing a kiss to the high of his cheekbones. When he tells Marc in no uncertain terms that he might not be the only one.
Marc resists the urge to run to Marco, tell him 'he's going to ruin you', 'you will never be the same again', 'Valentino Rossi destroys' but he knows it won't work. He knows Marco resents him, and he knows how it feels to want to be destroyed by a god.
Valentino is mean when he rubs comforting circles over Marc's hip to soothe the pain of the stretch. When his forehead furrows with the exertion of wanting this to be good for Marc, when his lips rest on Marc's protruding collarbones to distract him from the pain. When tears gather at his eyes at their simultaneous release. What stings the most is when he slides the duvet over them both and pulls Marc into his arms, when he's so uncertain about his place, Valentino tells him.
Valentino is most mean when he presses a hand to Marco's cheek after pressing that same hand into Marc's stomach to pull him closer. He is most mean when he lulls Marc into thinking he is his, when really anyone can be his, everyone would like to be his. He is most mean when he presses a kiss to Marco's forehead and, in no uncertain terms, tells Marc, 'What makes you so special?'
It makes Marc want to storm across the paddock, press a finger into Valentino's chest and start the interrogation. 'What are we?', 'Am I yours?', 'Am I the only one?' But one does not question a god. One does not doubt a god.
You submit.
Yes, Marc knows mean.
#idk#i just had an idea and idk if it makes sense#but yh#motogp#rosquez#marc marquez#valentino rossi#mm93#vr46
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Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe
All the hell you gave me?
Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you
Till my dying day
#rosquez#brocedes#motogp#formula 1#f1#nico rosberg#lewis hamilton#valentino rossi#marc marquez#web weave#web weaving#the amount of times i spiralled whilst doing this 💀😭
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So if you need to be mean
Be mean to me
I can take it and put it inside of me
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can learn on my arm as you break my heart
#theyre so if you need to be mean be mean to me coded i could cry 😭#marc marquez#valentino rossi#rosquez#no stop im gonna cry#motogp#web weaving
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I'm sorry but I discovered rosquez and then I wrote 300 words of feelings. Might continue this on ao3:
He thinks it's finally catching up to him. Everything. He sits on the edge of his bed, let's his bare feet touch the floor of his childhood bedroom (he's never been good at leaving). Remembers the ire that would rise in him as a child when his feet would skim the ground, not quite reaching where he wanted them to. His oversized shirt does nothing to hide the worrying amount of weight he's lost recently. His shorts hang low on his waist, to Marc that's the only downside of his excessive weight loss, having to adjust his waistbands, having to tighten his belts more than normal so a strip of leather dangles.
His bedroom is barren and oh-so cold. His walls bare, his shelves empty. He tries not to glance at the innocent cardboard box sitting in a corner of his room that he's too scared to frequent. It makes him upset if he thinks about it for too long. His father calling his mother, telling her to rid his childhood bedroom of off his childhood. His mother slowly and meticulously removing his posters of Valentino, making sure not to tear them, folding them into neat squares. Valentino refusing to acknowledge the shrine he had created in honour of him (wasn't it enough).
He should've gone to his mother and told her to rip those posters into a million pieces, into so many pieces that he forgot Valentino's face altogether (he's kidding himself). His mother's hands weren't made to smooth out the face of the man who had hurt him so. But he knows his mother, she wouldn't stand for disrespecting another mothers child like that, Marc tries not to understand, pretends like he just hasn't gotten around to throwing away his Valentino Rossi memorabilia (but he is his mother's child).
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