#motogp fluff

[marquez-junky8920]

Hi, how are you? I hope you're good. Can I request a fluff 11 with Fabio Quartararo? I was thinking about him crying after FP2 in Qatar and y/n comfort him and he feels better. Moreover, I was thinking that he always talks about his family; so , I was thinking that he could say that when he says family, y/n is part of it. Thank you in advance

Author's Note: Please bear with me because 1) I don't remember exactly why Fabio was crying after FP2 since this was requested SO long ago, so I had to kinda make up a scenario and 2) I am coming out of the deepest, darkest depths of writers block ✨hell✨ so I apologize if this isn't my best writing. I hope you like it anyway! ❤️

Be My Strength

Terrible results. Terrible results when Fabio's hopes had been so incredibly high for the first race of the year. The pre-season trainings had gone so well and then something seemed to flip with this second free practice session where nothing seemed to be going his way. You knew that he wouldn't ever give up until he got the results he wanted because that's the way that Fabio has always been, but you also knew by his body language coming back into the pit lane that you were going to have to be his rock right now. 

After the session was over, he begrudingly made his way back to the garage and swung himself off of his bike like he always does, but his walk back to his chair to talk to his mechanics was less than engaging. He was visibly upset. You couldn't really hear what he was talking to them about, but from his facial expressions and his hand motions, you could tell that he was about to start chewing somebody out for the shit product that Yamaha continued to give him after he had so much success with it. 

The conversation finally died down and he tossed his helmet onto the ground before walking out of the garage and making his way to his trailer. He made sure to make eye contact with you before he walked out of the garage, almost on a silent plea to be strong for him right now because he was about to break. You followed closely behind him to the trailer and shut the door behind you when you got in. 

Fabio had his hands braced on the counter and his head hung low. You walked up to him and gave a soft touch to his arm before he looked up at you, his eyes soaking wet with fresh tears. The pleading look in his eyes shattered your heart. 

"I don't understand what's going on. I don't understand why I can't get this to work when I had such success with it just recently. I don't understand any of it." He rambled, wrapping his arms around you as you hugged him and let him cry. 

"I know... I know honey, but you have to allow yourself to feel these bad moments so that you learn from them, gain the experience, and then grow even more than you already have. I promise this won't last forever. This will pass and you can get through this." 

He pulled his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, tears still streaming down his face as his lip still quivered slightly. 

"Thank you... I really don't know what I would do without you. You know, my team is sometimes all I have when I'm travelling to all of these different places and you or my family can't make it. But when you're here, everything seems so much less overwhelming. So much less..." 

"Loud?" 

"Yes! Exactly. Every time I see you when I get back to the garage or when I see you cheering me on when I make it to the podium, my heart wants to jump out of my chest because I am so happy. You make me so happy. And you've always felt like home. Always." 

You smiled softly up at him, holding back tears so that you didn't make this a whole crying fest. 

"I love you, Fabio. I'll always be here for you, no matter what." 

You kissed his lips softly before pulling back to look at him. He smiled a little bit. 

"I can see the tears in your eyes. Don't lie to yourself." 

"Shut up!" You smacked his chest playfully before wiping at your eyes. You looked back at him and just stared in silence for a moment. 

"What do you say we go get some food from the lounge, come back here, crack a few beers and watch a movie before bed, hm?" You pecked his lips once. 

"You know me too well, don't you?" He smirked before pulling away and going to the bedroom to change out of his leathers. 

"Of course I do. I'm wifey material babe." You smacked his ass as he walked away. 

"Damn straight you are." 

END

[lucy90712]

Hi, I saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could write a fluff where you are Pecco Bagnaia's daughter (or wife, whichever one you're more comfortable with) and you are sick but he doesn't want to leave your side at all and it's just really cute.

Instead of my alarm waking me up like it would any other morning today it was the pounding in my head. The last few days I haven't been feeling the best but clearly I'm more sick than I originally thought. I really wanted to go back to sleep but my headache was keeping me awake along with the fact that I felt so incredibly nauseous and the room was spinning slightly. If I had any ability to get up I would've gone to get myself some medicine to make me feel a bit better but I know that as soon as my feet hit the ground I will fall straight back down as I feel that awful. So instead of getting up I just sat myself up in bed I'm hopes that maybe I'll start to feel a bit better and be able to either sleep or get myself some medicine. 

After just sitting and staring at the dark bedroom wall for a while I felt movement next to me in the bed which couldn't be anyone other than my wonderful husband Pecco. This whole time he had been sleeping peacefully next to me and I wasn't going to change that as he's not long got back from a few weekends away racing so he's still a bit jet lagged and who am I to deny him a full nights sleep. Despite me not moving at all as it simply takes too much effort Pecco still stirred himself awake and began staring up at me as he came back to the real world. I could see a mixture of sleep and confusion in his eyes it was like he was trying to grasp whether he was still dreaming or if I was actually just weirdly sat up in bed staring into the darkness. Realisation seemed to hit him all at once as he bolted upright and moved closer to my side of the bed now with a look of concern. 

"Love are you ok what's wrong?" He asked 

"I'm fine just go back to bed" I replied 

"Baby you're burning up are you feeling ok?" He pressed while moving his hand around my forehead 

"I don't feel great but I'll be fine just go back to sleep" I said 

"Thats not happening lie down and I'll go get you some medicine" he said while leaving the room before I could stop him 

It wasn't long before he was back with a glass of water and various pills to tackle all of my symptoms. He made sure I took all of them before heading to the bathroom to get a cold towel to put over my forehead. It's times like these that I truly get to appreciate how wonderful Pecco really is, he is always putting my needs first and making me his top priority which is what most people long for in a partner. He is always so caring and somehow knows exactly what I need at all times even if I can't communicate it which in situations like these when I'm not quite in my right mind is useful. After the towel wasn't as cold anymore he took it off my head and back to the bathroom before coming back to bed. Pecco opened his arms once he had got settled in bed signalling me to cuddle with him but I was hesitant as I don't want him to get sick as he has more races coming up soon. The longer I waited the more he began to pout thinking that I didn't want to cuddle. 

"Why don't you want to cuddle with me?" He asked 

"I do but I don't want to get you sick" I said 

"Forget about that I just want to cuddle you and make you feel better" he said 

He didn't need to do any more to convince me so I pretty much threw myself into his arms which he quickly wrapped around my waist to pull me as close as possible. I was quick to settle in with my head resting on his chest as his hand ran up and down my back in a soothing manner trying to help me fall back asleep. At some point he moved on from rubbing my back to playing with my hair which always puts me to sleep and this time was no exception as I could feel my eyes finally getting heavy as sleep began to take over. 

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time I woke up again it was definitely light outside as the sun was shining though the curtains which were still closed. As my eyes began to open I went to turn and look at Pecco but I only found an empty space next to me. The space next to me prompted me to find my phone which quickly told me that it was nearly the afternoon which calmed my anxiety as it meant Pecco and probably just gone out training and hadn't mysteriously disappeared. As he's gone it means I have to drag myself out of bed to get myself something to eat and some water. 

Getting out of bed was a big ordeal as I'm still feeling really tired and all of my muscles hurt so I had to do it step by step until I was eventually on my feet. Once out of the warm bed covers it was a bit chilly so I grabbed one of Pecco's hoodies that was sat on the side which instantly made me feel better as it smelled like him and I love to wear his clothes when they smell like him. On any other day I would wash my face and brush my teeth before going to eat breakfast but today I didn't have the motivation so instead I trudged towards the stairs very slowly. I took each step one at a time like an old lady because it hurt to go any quicker but eventually I made it downstairs. When I started to make my way to the kitchen I could smell something cooking, then I heard humming which couldn't be anyone else other than Pecco. 

I must have been making more noise than I thought as before I could actually enter the kitchen Pecco appeared at the doorway to come and greet me giving me a hug which I didn't know I needed. Having his arms around me made feel so much more relaxed and as much as it didn't make any of my physical symptoms better it sure did make me feel better overall. He pulled away from me slightly and kissed my forehead before leaning down and kissing my lips which I didn't plan to let him do as it pretty much guarantees that he'll get sick but he was too quick for me. I let him kiss me a few more times before he picked me up and carried me to the sofa where he put me down and piled blankets on top of me to make me comfortable. 

"How are you feeling this morning?" He asked 

"A little better I think my fever is gone and my head doesn't hurt as much" I replied 

"Good I made you some soup so you stay there and get comfy and I'll bring you some" he said 

A few minutes later he came back with a bowl of soup and some tea which he put down in front of me before settling in to the sofa next to me. As I started eating Pecco grabbed the tv remote and put on my favourite movie which surprised me as he always says how much he hates having to watch it again but I guess there are benefits to being sick. I've watched this film so many times that I can quote nearly the whole thing especially my favourite scene where the two main characters confess their love for each other so I started to say the lines out loud until Pecco joined me. We went through the scene to begin with but then he went off script and started listing the things he loves about me which nearly made me cry but I held it together and even managed to give my own list of things I love about him. I think it was the most romantic thing we've ever done and of course it had to be when I feel like death so the memory is slightly tainted. 

After we had finished being cheesy Pecco laid down on the sofa pulling me down with him so we could cuddle. He then put seemingly every blanket we own over the top of both of us and made sure to tuck me in tightly so no warmth could escape. Pecco truly is the best husband as I know for a fact in a few minutes he will be really hot under all these blankets but he won't move them unless I want him to. He is always so sweet especially when I'm sick he is always trying his best to take care of me which just proves that when the time is right he will be a great dad and I can't wait to see him with our baby one day. 

We watched the rest of the movie together but once it ended I was starting to really get tired again which Pecco could obviously sense as he put on another movie but lowered the volume so it was basically just background noise. I tried watching for a bit but eventually I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore so I let myself take a nap but I made Pecco promise to wake me up in a few hours as I don't want to wreck my sleep schedule. Just as I was falling asleep Pecco started whispering in my ear about how much he loves me which out a big smile on my face as I finally fell asleep. 

[sivyera]

F1 and MotoGP drivers as love types

f1 - max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norriss

motogp - pecco bagnaia, enea bastianini, marc marquez, alex marquez, fabio quartararo, luca marini, marco bezzecchi, jorge martin, pedro acosta, david alonso

a/n: i hope you'll like it since not many people write for motogp nor f1, also don't worry i have more fics in mind just please be patient with me, i'm trying :) also should i add Rossi? i love him but he's retired so...

༺☆༻

⤷ Max Verstappen - you fell first but he fell harder

when you met Max, you almost immediately fell in love. i mean he was talented, funny and very handsome. but he didn't seem to return such strong feelings for you, from the start. the more he spend time with you tho, the more he fell in love with you and before you could blink, he was DROWNING in his love for you!

he always has to have you near him, not only while racing, i mean always. you want to take a shower? he'll wash your hair. you want to go shopping? he'll hold your bags. but when he was racing, he needed to have at least 1 kiss and session of cuddles after. he can actually get pretty clingy when it comes to you, i mean you're his gorgeous girlfriend how can he not!?

sometimes Max thinks that he can be little overwhelming with his love and overall attention he gives you but you quickly tell him how much you enjoy when he treats you like the only girl in the world, which he really does. because you're the only girl in the world for him

he'll literally do anything for you! he knows you love late night rides in his car, so he'll just grab you and drive with you through the streets of his home city from time to time.

⤷ Lewis Hamilton - rich love

Lewis is called "the billion dolar man" so it is kinda obvious how rich this love is. BUT it has two meanings! first- this love is rich because Lewis LOVES to spoil you. he'll literally buy you anything you land your eyes on without any word. he'll often buy you new clothes or jewelry but he'll also buy you new car or a vacation, whatever you want. second- this love is rich because Lewis loves you dearly. he treats you like royalty and he isn't planning on stopping any time soon!

you and Roscoe are his favourite beings in the whole world, you're his family so really be expecting to be treated like a royalty, i have to say it twice. he has you and Roscoe as a wallpaper so whenever he looks at his phone he smiles. and he LOVES it because it's actually a beautiful photo.

but even tho Lewis is rich and he treats you expensive, he also does not disdain comfortable cuddles on his sofa in matching pyjama, popcorn and some good movie. because whenever he can hold you, oh god don't be expecting to move any time soon! Roscoe usually accompanies you so you really won't be going anywhere cuz that dog loves you just as much and he isn't really a small doggy.

⤷ George Russell - best friends to lovers

you and George started of as friend, soon became best friends and it was like this for some time. you two also though that it'll stay like this since you two had completely different dating lives but oh boy were you two wrong!

it soon turned into longer looks that you gave each other. for example George had to focus on the circuit but all he could look at was you or you were suppose to made the team some toasts but burned them because you were staring at George who was taking off his sweaty shirt.

to your surprise, none of you actually confessed. one time you two were joking around as always but suddenly you caught each others eyes, staring at each other and bum- you kissed.

from that time George is very proud of you as his girlfriend, everybody knows at least 10 times because George told them. he also bought that white t-shirt that says "i love my girlfriend" and wore it on every race from that time.

⤷ Charles Leclerc - true love

yours and Charles's love is the type of love that lasts forever, you two will grew old with each other and honestly he CANNOT wait for that to happen! the thought of you two being old together while he lived the life through and through with you by his side.. so cute.

he's a gentleman so he'll buy you flowers or write you letters or give you his t-shirt/helmet because he knew you keep all the stuff he gives you, just like he does with the things you make him. since you usually draw him silly pictures of cute fat cats or a paper full of hearts and your kisses. it all holds the memories he wants to remember...

Leo fell in love with you instantly, that little ball of sunshine fur was deeply in love with you just like his owner, maybe even more! that made Charles so happy because after all he loves his dog and he wants him to go along with you... it went TOO well and now he's jealous because Leo is often stealing your attention.

head kisses! not forehead kisses, he loves to kiss you ON TOP of your head, on your hair.

⤷ Carlos Sainz - any universe

Carlos was ABSOLUTELY smitten by you, it was like his soul could be finally at absolute peace. it was strange yet very calming. he felt like he knew you for years when in reality he knew you few hours. that was the time when he realized he needs you.

well from that time you two got close, way too close, and before you knew it- he was asking you to be his girlfriend, now you were together for over a year! it all went so fast because you two felt like you knew each other! neither of you could describe it really..

you knew that you two had to know each other in different lives, on different planets, in a different time, under different circumstances, it was obvious.

Carlos loves your smile, it's like he remembers it. it's like you were his guardian angel all the time, it was like he knew your smile all his life! that's why whenever you smiled at him, he knew he was okay.

⤷ Lando Norris - teenage love

Lando felt like a teenager when he was with you and i mean it in the best way possible. you know what they say- "when a man acts like a child, he's in love", that was Lando.

with you everything was so vibrant, so happy, so colorful, so perfect! he could climb a mountain just for the fun of it, you gave him strength and power- which was pretty useful when he raced.

he would let you do whatever you want to him- masks? sure. plug his brows? sure. cut his hair? sure. paint his nails? sure. whatever. he just didn't care when he had you nor he was scared that he'd look ugly with his new haircut, it was from YOU, he was gonna be handsome way more than he was before.

he tries to be romantic with you but sometimes he fails so he usually just cuddles with you and when the world is quiet- he whispers his feelings into your eat. he usually does it when you fell asleep so don't tell him you're actually awake.

⤷ Francesco "Pecco" Bagnaia - unconditional love

Pecco really loves you unconditionally and there is no other word that would describe it. he'd love you if you changed your hair, he'd love you if you accidently plugged your brows too much, he'd love you if you were a worm, he'd love you if you'd be angry at him- there's just nothing you can do that would make him not love you and visa versa.

he really really appreciates your support on the track because you keep him happy and hopeful. he doesn't need to win because he already won in his life- he won you and you're something no motogp trophy can trump.

he loves when you play with his hair and yes before you ask- yes you can put pink bows or flowers into his hair, whatever you want pretty girl and he'll watch you with hearts in his eyes.

after a race he gets kinda needy so be prepared for whole night full of cuddles and soft kisses. he'll hold you tight around your waist with his head buried in your cleavage- close to your neck yet close to your chest, while he would mumble about the race with your fingers scratching his scalp.

⤷ Enea Bastianini - love at first sight

this is kinda easy to describe since it happened so fast. basically when you and Enea met- it was like the zing, you know from hotel transylvania what happened to mavis and johnny happened to you two. Enea was sent over the moon!

from that time you two were inseparable. you were with him even when he was racing because he always kept something of yours that he could have while racing- like a hair band. you were his lucky charm...

if you thought he was all around you while you two were in public well you aren't prepared for him when you two are alone! he basically has you on his back or in his arms and walks everywhere like this with you, he's like glued to you! of course if you need to be alone he'll give you space but he'll be waiting close by.

overall he's just like a puppy in love, it's cute, you cannot be mad at this man. he just loves you so much, so much that he believes his heart beats for you.

⤷ Marc Marquez - soulmates

Marc didn't really believe in stuff like soulmates until he met you, oh but when he did- oh boy was he feeling stupid for not believing. with you he felt like real life just entered him, his soul felt alive, he felt like fucking hercules just because you were near!

you'd be his huge rock meaning he'd have a lot of support in you, through the years he'd always come to you. whenever he and his team were talking about the race or new upgrades they wanted to do on his bike in his garage, you'll always be found sitting on his lap with his arm resting on your hips.

your touch basically calm him, your presence put him into peace, your voice sooth him- so whenever you combined these into one, meaning you two cuddle in his bed- he is in heaven.

he'd be really protective of you and even little possessive because if you brought him such ecstasy- you could do that to others and he noticed so he wasn't gonna let you wonder around, he needs his girl close to him.

⤷ Alex Marquez - whatever it takes

Alex was often in the shadows of his more successful older brother so when he met you, he thought you wouldn't really spend much time with him. but when you did and you actually took interest in him and listened to him- he knew he'd do whatever it takes to make you his.

that pretty much happened way sooner than he thought it would happen. he was so proud of himself that he had something his brother didn't and never could have had. you were his greatest victory.

he always kept you close since he felt like he was a king when you were with him, so before and after race he'll need A LOT of your attention. you're like his sun, he like recharges with you.

Alex loves giving you hugs from behind since he's pretty tall. so he can just wrap you in his arms, have you close while smelling your scent and feeling your soft skin against his, he is 'protecting' you like this- yea he loved that.

⤷ Fabio Quartararo - falling in love fast

Fabio is easy going guy- he's funny, he has charisma, he has passion and vision and he really goes after what he wants to accomplish. and you were one of the people who never gave up on him. when he tried too little and ended up on 13th place? you were here for him. when he lost again because he tried too hard? you were also here for him. he fell in love with you so quickly. it was like he was always in love with you.

he'll let you do all types of tiktok trends, he'll often be the one who suggested to do them in the first place. many of his fans are literally living for these cute videos of you two.

he knows how much you love to see him in his gear, especially when his abs are showing so he always makes sure he's near you when he's like this. he loves your attention and he needs it because otherwise he turns into a grumpy old man.

he calls you sweet nicknames, often saying them in french since he knows how much his native language turns you on.

⤷  Luca Marini - meant to be

you and Luca clicked so quickly. i know how weird and "i have love glasses on" mind sound like but you two were fitting together like a puzzle! when you two were with each other, you became the IT couple. many were jealous.

he's actually pretty skilled and by that i mean he can braid your hair. he can do a simple braid but still! and he loves it- he'll have you sat between his legs while he's running his fingers through your hair. it comforts the both of you.

but just as much as he loves touching your hair, he loves when YOU touch his hair. so whenever you take a shower, he's right there with you, if you let him, hoping that he can wash your hair and then you'll wash his hair. i think it's getting little complicated, haha

he also loves kissing your cheek like a gentleman, even tho everyone knows that kissing your lips is his favourite.

⤷ Marco Bezzecchi - teenage love

now don't get me wrong, i know he's an adult man but... come on, whenever he's near you he acts like a little boy. he's all over you, hugging you, smiling at you, kissing your cheek, holding your hand- yeah everything that comes to your mind.

you're his biggest support and biggest reason to try harder and harder every time. every time he wins, he runs right towards you to hug you and kiss your whole face. also in every interview he's like "i won this for my girlfriend."

Rubik actually fell in love with you just as much as his owner so you usually think you have two dogs that are literally giving you the puppy dog love- it's the sweetest thing ever.

Marco will probably soon or later tattoo your name or something special for both of you on his arm. he needs to have you forever on his body, without any shame.

⤷ Jorge Martin - slow burn

Jorge knew from the start that he likes you but he didn't want to start anything with you since his career in motogp was quickly rising. he was winning over and over again, more people needed his attention and he needed to train more so he didn't wanna start anything serious because he knew he'd be neglecting you. he didn't want to mess things up from the start because he really cared about you...

well later on he just couldn't cope anymore with his urges to have you, so he confessed and you two started dating. still he was often scared about you leaving him after you find out how exhausting his job can be. lucky for him you were the biggest support which made him win even more races.

he'll often seek your comfort like cuddle and kisses before and after each race since like i said you're his biggest support. you motivate him before the race and you calm him down after the race.

⤷ Pedro Acosta - first and only love

sharky over here never though he'd met his true love so early in life, i mean he's 19, that's young for finding his true love. many don't find their true love their whole life yet he got really lucky... he really felt grateful each day for you.

i believe you'd find some shark costumes (pink for you and blue for him) and will make him wear it. he'd mumble about it but he'll still wear it, if that makes you happy.

he'll often tease you about little stuff which will often drive you nuts but he knows you love it. but even tho this boy tease you, he also needs some of your attention, some sweet attention- meaning he's actually hug and cuddle sucker.

he'll cuddle with you (basically have you in choke hold, lol) whole night and he won't let go of you so easily so if you need to pee- no you don't.

⤷ David Alonso - pure love

this boy is the sweetest of them all. he's the youngest (and i believe he was written by a woman) so he's the biggest gentleman you'll ever met. BUT he's not only a gentleman he's also a gentle man- meaning that every time he touches you it's like he was touching something so precious that he was afraid to break it.

he's a really sweet boy so there's no way his eyes are on someone else than on you (not like any other man here would cheat but ykyk) he's all over you, loving you with his WHOLE heart and even more. he'd bring you the blue out of sky just because!

he loves cuddling, like a lot, and he loves to hold you in his arms with your head on his chest. for some reason it's comforting for him like this, probably because he feels manly.

David thought racing is his passion and don't get me wrong it is and he's really talented and has a long successful career in front on him but YOU are way important than racing. you're the love of his life and the only thing he wants is you to be happy... his love for you is really the purest.

[kingofthecotas]

find tomorrow with you

5 times valentino suggests they get married and 1 time marc does | 2.4k words

5+1 is a fun and whimsical format that we should use more often

–––

i. 

It’s not the first time Marc has been to Tavullia since Valentino decided his life was infinitely better when they spoke—and, indeed, fucked—but today is the first time he truly seems comfortable. 

Pecco being here is helping, helping soothe the agitation that is all Bez’s, helping to be a friendly face—and Luca, if he weren’t finding it all so funny, would be helping as well. Marc is smiling, talking, laughing—and he isn’t dragging his feet as they all get ready to ride. That’s the crux of it, the load-bearing pillar that crumbled their first time around. 

Not this time. They won’t let it. 

(Not ever again, Valentino won’t let that happen ever again. He won’t do that to Marc ever again.)

It’s never polite when they race at the ranch. It’s animalistic, all friendship abandoned at the archway that marks the start of the track, screeching under helmets as they tear around corners and dive into the side of opponents. No quarter. No prisoners. 

Naturally, Marc, now he’s comfortable, is perfectly suited to this kind of all-out warfare. 

(He’s terrifying. Valentino is entranced. He loves him.) 

It happens after about an hour, all of them hot and tired but no one willing to throw a white flag. Marc goes for the lead, throws it up the inside of Bez, and outbrakes himself. He skids to the edge of the track, where his front tyre finally surrenders, and he’s sliding through dirt, one leg dragged with the bike.  

Even over the growl of two-stroke engines, Valentino can hear Bez’s, “Oh shit.” 

He pulls to the side of the track, kicks the peg-stand down with a practiced ease that covers his panic, because Marc is staggering away from under his bike, is collapsing on his back, shoulders shaking, and what if he’s hurt—?

“Marc?” 

Marc is cackling like a maniac, leathers dusted white, one hand over the part of his helmet where his forehead would be—even Bez can’t stop himself laughing in return. 

Valentino kneels beside him, pushes his visor up. Then he pushes Marc’s open, too.

“You idiot,” he says, slow and deliberate, yet without sting. 

Marc laughs harder. “That was fun!”

Valentino leans down, helmets almost touching. “I am going to divorce you.”

Bez chokes on his giggle.

Marc doesn’t miss a beat, eyes still smiling at Vale through his visor. “You have to marry me to do that.” 

“I will marry you,” Valentino agrees, “and then I will divorce you.” 

Marc laughs again. 

——

ii.

Valentino’s phone alarm goes off at 5:45, fifteen minutes to spare before lights out, and he stifles a groan, rolls away from Marc. Marc does not appreciate being woken up before seven on a Sunday. 

(He knows that. He loves that he knows that.) 

Qualifying had been hairy, drizzling but not completely wet. It should be a dry race, though, and he settles himself on the sofa downstairs just in time for the broadcast to start scrolling through the starting grid. Kimi had done well, and he smiles.

There’s a noise in the doorway: Marc, a hoodie thrown over his bare chest, eyes heavy.

“Good morning,” Valentino says, raspy. “Did I wake you up?”

“Who has a race at this time?” Marc grumbles. 

“They are in Japan,” Valentino says, and lets Marc crawl into the space next to him, tired and clumsy with it. “Now you know what it is like when I am watching you in Japan, or Malaysia, or Australia.”

Marc groans in the back of his throat.

“You could go back to bed.”

“You’re not there.” Unfocused eyes peering over the top of his hoodie, Marc glares at the screen, seemingly unaware that he’s just curled something warm and tender around Valentino’s ribs. “Who are we cheering for?”

“Ah, your friend Carlos managed only twelfth. It is Piastri and Verstappen at the front—Kimi is there in fourth, you see? And the Ferraris in fifth and sixth—always we want them to do well. Lando had a penalty, so he is seventh, but the McLaren should be fast here.”

They’re pulling away for the formation lap, weaving to warm their tyres. Marc watches, focused as ever, until he yawns. Valentino shushes him. 

“They are not even racing,” 

“They are explaining the strategy.”

Lights out. Clean start. Marc is watching more intently now, undivided attention, check pressed against Valentino’s arm.

Ten laps in, Gasly dives down the inside of Ocon, and they’re both spinning off into grass and gravel; embarrassing but harmless, enough to bring out the safety car. Valentino pulls himself free and goes to make coffee. 

Marc is barely visible beneath the throw when he returns, dark eyes glaring balefully at the television like it’s offended him personally, but he softens when Valentino hands him a mug.

“You are the best,” he mumbles, then, “At making coffee.”

Valentino laughs—once, he might have bristled at the harmless joke—and slides back into his spot between Marc and the sofa arm. Marc thumps his head down, somehow burying himself even deeper in his swaddling of blanket and hoodie and Valentino. 

It’s—it’s something they never would have imagined, even two years ago. It’s gentle, early Sunday mornings wrapped around each other; the kind of softness that shouldn’t be possible after years of tearing each other apart, digging in fingers and pulling until they drew blood. 

Valentino doesn’t ever want to go there again. He doesn’t ever want to lose this. 

Marc is breathing softly against his arm, still, quiet, perfect. 

“I want to marry you,” he murmurs.

Silence. His stomach drops. 

Marc’s inhale catches in the back of his throat, halfway to a snore, and Valentino laughs, gentle so he doesn’t wake him. He plucks the coffee cup, dangling precariously, from slack fingers, and places it on the side table. 

——

iii.

They’ve created a routine over the past few months.

(Valentino’s stomach jumps every time he thinks about it, thinks about how they’re falling into habits, into familiarity. Every time, he smiles.) 

It’s their last day together for a while: Marc is leaving later, and Valentino flies early in the morning to get to his GT race. But the routine doesn’t change. He’s making lunch for them. Marc is upstairs—his phone had rung, insistent, and he’d groaned but pulled away, leaving Valentino to chop the rest of their salad. 

Marc emerges after nearly twenty-five minutes, eyebrows pinched together, but accepts the plate Valentino slides towards him with a distracted smile.

“Everything okay?” Valentino asks.

“Ah, my accountant.” Marc scowls. “Apparently I am spending too much time in Italy.” 

Valentino can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his chest. 

“It’s not funny,” Marc says, almost whines. “It’s a tax thing. Between all the time I spend here, and time at the factory—not enough in Spain, apparently.”

Shrugging, Valentino taps one finger on the table. “We could get married.” 

Marc snorts. “Would that help?”

“I don’t know. I am very bad to ask about tax advice, remember?”

“Me too.” Marc stabs a piece of his salad—viciously, in Valentino’s opinion. 

“Don’t frown. It will be okay.”

“I can hide here. It is difficult for you to be in Madrid.”

“It will be okay,” Valentino repeats. “And remember, we can always get married.”

He thinks he deserves it when Marc throws a slice of bread at him. 

——

iv.

Clouds hang heavy on the mountains in Spielberg, threatening rain but holding off for now. Valentino leaves Luca with a last pat on the shoulder, weaving his way up the grid towards Franky’s starting spot.

It’s slow going, stopped every few steps, shaking hands with people he recognises, people he doesn’t.

“Valentino—Valentino!”

It’s Laverty, and Valentino doesn’t mind that because he doesn’t tend to ask stupid questions. He indulges the interview, long past acceptance of the fact that he built his own mythos and will never be left alone for the rest of his life. Yes, he’s doing well, thank you. Yes, it’s nice to be on the grid. Yes, he’s proud of his boys. Yes, he’s still enjoying racing with BMW. 

“And a final question,” Michael says. “You seem like you and Marc Márquez have finally buried the hatchet. Is everything put to bed? How did you manage it?”

Maybe Michael Laverty does ask stupid questions. 

Perhaps he should have been expecting it, because clasping hands before a race, sharing a smile under the podium—people notice. Especially when the norm used to be nothing at all, or worse.

“Ah, you know.” He has plenty of shields for the media, and it’s no problem to pull out an old favourite. “We talked. Dinner with candles. It is all going very well. Maybe soon we get married.” 

Michael laughs, loud and boisterous, like Vale hasn’t just wrapped up the truth in a pretty package and presented it as a joke. He smiles, camera-easy, and returns Michael’s ciao. 

It’s only when he turns around that he realises Álex and Bez, lined up side-by-side on the grid, are staring at him. 

——

v. 

Misano is hot, sweltering August-end heat. Valentino is sweating under his cap and sunglasses, pressed in a red throng of Ducati engineers. One-two. Red on red. 

It’s Marc who’d won, victorious in the battle of weaving-turning-diving along long straights and through heavy-brake corners. Pecco had given him a good fight, an Italian classic of a race; he’s smiling at Marc, learning to enjoy the scrappy thrill of battle as well as the ease of a flawless win. 

Marc’s shining, beaming at his team, smiling down the cameras, alive under the sun. Valentino swallows down the urge to kiss him, if only because their comms officers would kill them both. 

The podium has never seemed so long. Media obligations have never seemed so long. It’s an age before they’re alone, motorhome door locked, and Valentino has Marc, to himself, finally.

He used to think Marc was too much for him, in danger of eclipsing him, their implosion inevitable as two brilliant stars orbited closer, closer, too close. Too much light for the world to handle.

If he met that version of himself now, Valentino thinks he would shake him. 

Marc glows, yes, but there’s a brightness that only Valentino gets to see, one that erupts out in starbursts of ecstasy when they’re together, when Valentino is pushing inside him, when Marc is staring up at him like there’s nothing else in the world. 

Valentino stops, earning a petulant glare; even that’s breathtaking. How—how—he can’t find the words.

“I think,” Valentino forces out, elbows taking his weight, “I want to marry you.”

Marc blinks, face suddenly cutting, incredulous. “You are telling me this now?” He’s a livewire, crackling with sparks, hot with triumph, shooting static through Valentino’s skin. He’s beautiful. Valentino wants to see this for the rest of his life, so yeah, he’s saying it now. 

He tilts his hips, and the disbelief is gone, washed away as Marc gasps. It’s something like reverence now—but not how it used to be. Nothing that Valentino could shatter this time, even though he still wants to hold it close. 

Contrary as always, Marc winds fingers through his hair, pulls him down for a breathless kiss—and Valentino smiles into it, because he can do this, he can have this effect on Marc, still. Still. 

“Vale—” 

He’s helpless when it’s Marc. Still. Always. 

When they’re finished, when they’re lying curled into each other, Valentino breathing heavy into Marc’s hair, Marc looks up, eyes narrowed. 

“You did well today,” Valentino tells him softly, and the hard expression is gone once again, replaced with a different kind of wonder. 

“Did you mean it?”

He knows what Marc means. “Yes.”

Marc nods. “Ask me again. Another time.”

It’s—Valentino smiles again. “That was not a no.” 

——

+1 

It’s not a bad crash—it’s not, not by the metrics of this sport, not compared to what it could have been, what it has been in the past. 

It’s not bad, but it could have been: Marc, bumped wide by Acosta, unable to save it, sliding helplessly through the corner apex—and Bez, unsighted, trying to avoid the recovering KTM, sailing past his braking point towards Marc, and almost—almost. 

It’s not bad, but it was close, and when Marc is back in the paddock, when he’s speaking to cameras, when he’s with his engineers, there’s something wild about him, something faraway sitting behind his eyes, and Valentino knows. He knows.  

(He still dreams, sometimes, of Austria; not of the crash, but the feeling of it, the prickle at the back of his skull, the cold finger-brush of something not right. The almost that he didn’t see coming.) 

So he waits. Marc is settled enough, trusts him enough, to reach for him when he needs him. Valentino trusts Marc enough to let him. 

The knock on his motorhome door comes long after the chequered flag has fallen. Valentino doesn’t get up, knows Marc will let himself in.

“Sorry. Pedro wanted to talk—I am not angry, but good he apologised.”

“That’s okay,” Valentino says, gentle. 

Marc drifts, loose, unmoored, towards the sofa, folds his legs underneath him, presses into Valentino’s space. Valentino lets him, waits for him to speak.

Marc is shaking. Not a lot, just enough for Valentino to notice when he takes his hand.

“Okay?”

He’s not, of course he’s not, but it’s a door nudged ajar, an opening if Marc wants to take it.

“That was—close.”

“Yeah.”

“I was—watching the bike.” Marc swallows. “Just—that was all I could do. Watch it coming towards me.” 

Valentino pulls their joined hands up, presses a kiss to the back of Marc’s. 

Marc’s next exhale trembles in the space between them. 

“You’re okay.” 

“If Bez didn’t turn—” 

If. Almost. “You’re okay,” Valentino says again, because he needs to hear it himself. Marc’s fingers clench in his. “Okay? Look, you are holding my hand. You’re okay.”

It won’t be long before Marc is through this, before he’s smiling, before he’s raring to climb on his bike again. Not yet, though. Valentino knows—he knows.

“We should get married,” Marc says abruptly.

“I have been saying—”

“Seriously.”

Valentino takes him in: pinched eyebrows; hair flattened from his Ducati cap; pursed lips. “I think I am offended, that you only ask me after today.”

Marc pulls his hand away, the laugh jolting out of him. “Valentino—”

“And you are asking me in a motorhome—really, I would have taken my hoodie off at least—”

“Vale,” Marc groans, but he’s there, he’s smiling, he’s back. 

He can’t stop a smile twitching the corners of his lips in return. “Yes?” 

“That was not a no.” 

Valentino takes his hand again.

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

"Sam?" you ask seeing the blonde man behind you.

"Hey!" he exclaims coming forward and pulling you into a hug. You stood there in shock that you were actually meeting these boys and that they were coming to watch you race.

"Hey!" Another voice says from behind Sam, he was taller with dark hair and you knew it was Colby.

"Hey, Colby?" you ask looking over him and he nods.

"Can we post some pictures off us all together?" Sam asks seeing as you guys were all at the airport.

"Yeah sure! I'll drive you guys to the hotel then yeah?" you ask looking over them. You all take a selfie, you stood in the middle of the two of them with a big smile on your face. After taking some more photos you take a rucksack from what was at Sam's feet and he tried to protest but upon seeing how easily you picked up the heavy equipment filled back he let you help out.

"Are you guys doing any filming while you are here, or is this strictly vacationing?" you ask looking over at them while you all clamber into the lift.

"We haven't planned on doing any big filming, just TikTok's at the race and stuff! We want to come back here though as there's so many more places..." Colbly answers glancing over at you.

"Okay, well let's get you guys set up in the hotel and then my treat and I'll take you both out for food" you grin and they both nod eagerly.

You take them to the carpark and they look around trying to find out which car is yours.

As you start to walk all the way towards the back Colby starts to complain as to why you'd park so far away when there's so many available spaces towards the front.

When they walk up to your New Model Ferrari, your question is answered.

"Holy shit, that's a nice car!" Sam exclaims looking over it, not evening daring to touch it. You whip the key out your pocket opening the boot where you strategically place their bags. One of them would have to have a bag or two in the second back seat because of the sport aspect to the car.

"I really should have brought the Audi" you sigh, looking at the bags in the back before you slowly close the boot. Sam and Colby sharing a look with each other.

"I call Shot Gun!" Sam cries going to the front driver's side door.

"You aren't driving my car, Sam!" you giggle knowing he hasn't realized where he's stood.

"Right, yeah I forgot we're in the UK" Sam laughs but see's Colby getting in the passenger side door.

"Snooze you loose buddy!" he exclaims making you laugh.

The drive to the hotel wasn't too long, you guys spoke about anything that came up in conversation. It was all so natural as if you'd known them for years and you felt so comfortable in their presence.

You helped them into their hotel room, while Colby made a little video to put on his Instagram story.

"Hey guys, it's Colby. I'm of course here with Sam and we're here in England again" he shows the camera the outside of the hotel that was in the Hilton on the edge of the Silverstone Race Track. "But we have a very special guest that we are being shown round by today. Y/N Y/L/N!" he says panning the camera to you and showing them you.

"Hey!" you grin before Colby switches the camera back on him and Sam.

"We're going to go live here later, so go comment under my latest twitter post all the questions you guys want to ask and we'll answer any questions you guys have an discuss what is up and coming for the three of us!" he grins before ending it with a little peace out sign.

"That gives us time to discuss over dinner yeah?" Sam asks and you nod.

You guys all head on a train into London to get some food from the city rather than staying around Silverstone.

"So, have you guys thought of any locations you want to investigate?" you ask, knowing there was definitely some in the UK that they hadn't done here in the UK, but you travelled round so much that you were pretty much willing to go anywhere.

"We were thinking of going back to Australia, we did it at the start of the year and we got some really interesting footage while we were there" Sam offers.

"I don't think we've done enough in the UK either, there's some great places in Wales, and Scotland we haven't done too!" Colby suggests, he loved when they visit here, it always had some of the best energy whenever they came here.

"Yeah I feel like you guys don't want to rinse America of its haunted spots, so either of those would be cool! There's so many like haunted places worldwide, I guess it's just an issue of asking permission of whether or not you can get to view it like solo and be able to have the place to yourself!" you admit, understanding why they probably hadn't done the Paris Catacombs or Bangarth Fort in India or Proveglia Island in Italy.

"Well, it's up to you maybe we can ask what the fans think tonight. We have time, I cant imagine Y/N will be free for filming for a while anyway right?" Colby asks, again. He was fully aware of your driving schedule but he knew it was a lot of exhausting travel.

After lots of talking and getting to know them you all went back to the hotel, you set up Colby's phone in their room and started and insta live while you and Sam had the Tweet up that Colby posted earlier in the replies.

"Hey guys!" Colby smiles as he watches fans flood into the chat already starting to ask questions in the chat.

"Okay guys, we'll only be answering questions from the tweet we sent out on the shared account earlier okay?" Sam laughs seeing people asking who you were and what you were doing there.

You were laughing when you saw fans asking if you were Colby's new girlfriend. They were the ones that were obviously Sam and Colby fans and didn't venture into motorsport.

There was others in the live defending you, trying to explain who you were.

"Y/N you wanna introduce yourself?" Sam asks seeing the majority of comments be asking who you were and what you were doing with the boys.

"Okay, so for the Sam and Colby fans I'm a MotoGP driver, so I drive motorbikes around race tracks all over the world, really really quickly! I made a silly drunk tweet saying I wouldn't be scared to collab with these two and here we are!" you grin, as people start flooding the comments.

"Yes, guys she is very fast! We'll be cheering for her at Silverstone!" Sam says looking at the more comments flooding in.

"Okay guys, we are moving onto your twitter questions now. No more answering from here!"

"Okay the first one I found is, is Y/N good at what she does?" Sam says before raising and eyebrow.

"Well, Sam and Colby haven't watched me yet. But you can see all of my races of YouTube!" you smile politely.

"She's a better driver than the both of us, I'll give her that!" Colby exclaims looking at him phone seeing the emoji spam.

"Where are you thinking of investigating next and will it be with Y/N?" you read out, scrolling through the twitter thread trying to find good ones.

"Next one coming out wont be Y/N because we haven't even filmed with her yet, and I think we might be filming with one other person before her depending on schedules. so maybe Y/N can be a hell week guest if the timings right? But... again not sure if we'll want to do something with her before then, incase that's too much for her to ...yano handle!" Colby explains while smirking as you turn to hit him in shock.

"I would be fine on hell week! I'll smash anything, any challenge let me rephrase that you give me and I will do it!" you grin.

"Mmmmm, we'll see!" Sam teases.

"I mean, while we are here in the UK, would you have time to do something. We've got some contacts we could whip something up?" Colby asks reading the instagram chat seeing that everyone's wondering why you aren't doing anything soon as you don't have to be in Austria until August the 16th.

"I mean, I'm down..." you grin, wondering where they could possibly take you.

"Okay, guys you heard Y/N if we can get something sorted we may be filming in the next few days after the race!" Sam exclaims happier.

Once you'd sifted through most of the questions about who you were and why you were with the boys you got onto the more random questions that were just sort of get to know you.

"When do you prefer to work out, morning or evening?" Sam asks, looking from Colby to you.

"I'm definitely an evening guy, I tend to be more proactive around that time and I've never been one to wake up early with a lot of motivation for the day" Colby explains before Sam nods and agrees that he prefers the evening.

"As and athlete I have a set plan and that means I work out in both the morning and the evenings but I honestly prefer the morning because it feels to me like I've got it out the way!" you giggle and Colby looks over at you shocked.

"You work out twice a day?" he asks with a raised brow.

"Yeah, I have to have really good core strength for on the bike" you nod.

"What's your go-to comfort food?" you ask looking between them while they have a thoughtful expression.

"Mmmm probably like my mum's cooking something like her mashed potato or her lasagna" Colby offers when thinking about it for a little bit.

"Oh! I didn't even think of my parents cooking, I went for more of a guilty pleasure and went for Taco Bell Burrito!" Sam nods and then they turn to you.

"Well, comfort food for me has to be healthy so I actually learnt from good friend of mine and F1 driver Lando Norris about this chicken and pineapple wrap that he has and once i tried it ... just stuck in my head 24/7 on a loop" you laugh, before finding a picture of you and Lando eating them.

"Chicken and Pineapple?" Sam asks with a frown on his face and you just chuckle.

"Don't knock it until you try it!" you exclaim.

"Suppose you enjoy pineapple on pizza too!" Colby jokes.

"On cheat day i do yes!" you grin.

You guys answer a few more questions before you agree that you need to go to bed as it's media day tomorrow and you'll have to be up early.

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55

[fall0utmind]

MEDICAL LEAK AU pt2

Part 1 here

Chapter 2 is up on ao3

🤍🤍

Please be advised of content warning for suicide - no descriptions but some cruel words - see ao3 for sections to skip and message me if you need to.

Feedback is always appreciated

Would you still love me if I told you my darkest secrets?

Ch 2-

~3k

They stumble through the doorway to the motorhome, Marc instantly collapsing onto the worn couch tucked into the corner. Alex has procured a blanket from somewhere and is busily tucking it around him, refusing to let Marc out of his sight. He bustles around the small kitchenette, busying himself with making some coffee.

Neither of their parents were able to attend the race this weekend. Marc doesn’t know if he is grateful for that, or not. They both knew, of course. It had been a testing time for the family, the fallout with Valentino, along with the public backlash, and Marc’s declining mental health had left him heartbroken and hopeless. After his first attempt, Marc returned to his room stripped bare. All signs of Valentino Rossi expunged whilst he was in a hospital bed; the only reminder was his broken heart. It had just made Marc cry harder at the time, Roser wrapped around him in his childhood bedroom. It had taken him many years to pick up the pieces after that, with several other falls along the way. But he takes comfort in the fact he is still here, life has beaten him down over and over; he has been kicked (literally), beaten, and spat out by both Vale and the media, but he always kept going. His family has made it out, they are safe, and he is safe. And really, that is all he can ask for.

Alex observes Marc with increasing concern. He has been on the sofa, swaddled in blankets, for 45 minutes with no signs of movement. His coffee mug is forgotten in his hands, as he stares blankly at the wall, no doubt revisiting the years that haunted them both. As much as Marc likes to pretend that he is unaffected, Alex knows that those years did lasting damage to his psyche; he has noticed in the way he acts around others, how he no longer trusts so easily, and how he seems to be acting around almost everyone except a select few people. He knows that his older brother harbours a lot of guilt for the past, thinking that he had done Alex some kind of disservice. Alex is just glad he still has an older brother.

At some point a Gresini representative knocks on the motorhome door, speaking to Alex in hushed tones. After they leave, Marc numbly listens to his brother relaying the extent of the damage. The media has found out about Marc’s suicide attempts in 2015, but no one knows the details, and it is hoped that it will stay that way. So far, no other records have been accessed, or at least not published. Legal is already working tirelessly to understand what has gone wrong, but for now there is nothing Marc can do. News has spread fast, and Marc does not doubt that by tomorrow the entire grid will know about how fucking pitiful he is. The thought makes his head hurt and his eyes water.

“You should try to get some sleep. The team are putting out a statement about respecting your privacy but for now there is nothing more we can do”.

Marc nods slowly, feeling adrift amongst all that has happened today. He rises unsteadily to his feet and shuffles to the bathroom. He flicks the switch and blinks heavily at the harsh lights which blind him. He almost doesn’t recognise the person in the reflection, with a pale face and hollow eyes. He shudders, it reminds him of a time when every mirror would render the same hideous portrait of despair every day. Marc pointedly avoids looking at his reflection again. He knows Alex won’t leave him alone tonight, fearful of the unhealed wounds the past has left which have once again been reopened. Instead, with a resigned sigh, Marc finishes in the bathroom and hauls himself into bed, Alex curling up on the other side. The position is so reminiscent of their younger years, filling him with a hollow kind of sadness. A heavy blanket of exhaustion weighs upon him, and that, alongside his brother's soothing presence, lulls him into a deep sleep.

*

Marc awakes to an empty bed and the sound of knocking on their motorhome door. He takes a moment to recentre himself. It must be around 8 am, given the way the light spills in from the window. It is Saturday morning in Misano and yesterday the entire MotoGP world discovered arguably his biggest secret. Marc isn’t sure good morning is appropriate.

The hushed whispers of two familiar voices filter in from the living area, clearly speaking softly to let Marc rest. He groans and blindly feels around for his phone, before remembering that Alex had taken it off him at some point yesterday. It was probably for the best that he didn’t know what the media were saying right now. Bastards.

He rolls out of bed, grabs a pair of sweats and the first t-shirt he sees (it is definitely Alex’s, given that it’s way too long for him) and stumbles into the kitchen, where a cup of coffee is already waiting on the counter. He has never been more grateful for his little brother and his worldly knowledge that 8 is too early for Marc. He’s a little shocked to see Aleix Espargaro sitting next to his brother on the sofa, both watching him with matching worried expressions. He would laugh at the sight of the two men mirroring each other in such a dad-coded way, if not for the current circumstances. Instead, he frowns back at them. Aleix rises to his feet, approaching Marc cautiously, giving him a chance to move away, before drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

The older man holds him for some time, Marc’s head tucked into his neck. As he pulls away, Aleix’s hands come to the side of his face, holding him gently.

“Promise me you will tell me if it happens again, I do not like the thought of you in so much pain. But now I see that you have already been through it. You should never have had to do it alone, Cariño.”

His eyes are anguished but sincere throughout his speech, observing Marc with undisguised worry and affection. Marc can’t stand it and looks away once Aleix has released him, worrying his lower lip. The older man takes this as his cue, thanking Alex for his coffee, and quietly making his way over to the door, not before shooting him a concerned glance.

“You will let me know if anyone gives you shit today, I will keep an eye out for you. Look after yourself, Marc.”

And with that, he’s gone, the quiet snick of the door behind him. Marc raises an eyebrow at Alex.

“What was that?”

Alex sighs, “He is concerned about you, hermano, he has always had a soft spot for you. He is annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner.”

“I hide it well”

“I know”

*

The rest of the morning is relatively normal. The people he interacts with are evidently unsure of the acceptable conduct for this situation; Marc finds it terribly amusing, in a dark kind of way. He has decided the best course of action is to pretend nothing has happened in the twisted hope that if he ignores it, everyone else will too. He’s sure his old therapist would be delighted. The security presence in the paddock appears to have suspiciously doubled overnight. People are staring, he can feel it in the way the back of his neck prickles, but no one approaches him. He doesn’t care if they must bring in the goddamn military if that’s what it takes to prevent another PR disaster.

He makes it to the pitlane in record time, dodging all signs of human life, taking the back alleys wherever possible. He enters the rear entrance of the Gresini garage, finding his crew to check in before qualifying. He is pleased with the bike set-up from yesterday, feeling confident in the pace this weekend. On the bad days, Marc thinks he will never know the feeling of winning again, that he will never experience a champagne shower from the top step of the podium, the world chanting his name. That he will fade into irrelevance, a has-been of the sport, once Valentino Rossi’s great rival, now just another name. But this year is the closest he has come in 3 years, and he is not willing to let go without a fight, because Marc Marquez is synonymous with winning, it is his purpose and his destiny. If he is not riding, if he is not winning, he does not know who he truly is.

He watches the junior categories warm up, reminiscing on those days of his career, before the pressure and before Valentino. He is glad to see David achieving so much this season. He sees a younger version of himself in the boy and it scares him, terrified that the young Columbian will get burnt in the same way that Marc did. He vows to do everything in his power to protect him but let him grow into the world champion he is destined to be. They already training together, and Marc can see the way he is rubbing off on the teenager, he just hopes that does not become a curse.

*

The second free practice of the weekend occurs without a hitch, landing both Alex and Marc into Q2, much to the chagrin of the Italian fans (and really, could people not let it go by now?). Marc is determined not to let the recent events hinder his performance. Despite this, he is increasingly aware of his rising anxiety about facing the others on the grid. His mind is consumed by thoughts of judgement and disgust, creating pictures of his colleagues deserting him, refusing to be seen with him as in 2015. No matter how hard he tries, even after his talk with Aleix this morning, he is frantic with worry, unable to sit still.

“You will wear a hole in the floor if you do not stop soon.”

Alex appears from around the corner, watching him pace.

“We need to get ready. Are you feeling okay?”

Marc can’t face the idea of putting the younger through even more pain because of him, so he simply nods in agreement, refusing to meet the unconvinced look Alex is no doubt giving him.

He already has his leathers on, so he grabs the rest of his kit, and starts towards his crew, Alex heading in the opposite direction. He shoves down his fear and greets the people waiting for him with a plethora of fist bumps and hugs. He is grateful that his team are treating him as usual, seemingly recovered from yesterday’s shock. Some had wrapped him in a hug earlier this morning, others laying comforting hands on his shoulders, unabashedly showing their support and filling him with warmth. He holds onto that feeling as he prepares to ride, knowing a few more people are fighting in his corner.

*

Marc feels alive. The bike is singing underneath him, so responsive to him. Every move is calculated to perfection, cornering on the edge of impossible - he’s probably giving the guys in the garage a heart attack every lap. But he feels like he’s flying, whipping around the track on a bike that loves him as much as he loves it. He knows he’s putting in good times, his pace almost matching the newer Ducati, something which is the talk of the paddock at the moment. The move to a different constructor has brought a new lease of life to his career, quieting the doubts and prompting the whispers: “Marc Marquez is back”.

By the time the checkered flag falls, Marc is on top of the world. His mind wiped clear of the media, Valentino, and 2015. He doesn’t know where he placed, and it isn’t until he looks up at the timing board and sees his 93 at the top of the list, that he allows himself to grin.

Marc rides back to the garage, tailed by Alex, still grinning under his helmet. He is greeted and is greeted with a warm reception from the team, cheering as he and his brother come to a halt. He is rained in congratulations from his team, hands slapping his back and wide smiles directed at him. It is then that he spots Dovi. His old friend is standing to the side, a proud smile face. Marc has no idea what he is doing here, but he isn’t about to complain, having missed the older man in recent years. Dovi was one of the few people who had his back all those years ago, for which he is endlessly grateful. He jumps off his bike and almost straight into Dovi’s arms, uncaring of the cameras trained on the pair.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, can I not come and see my friend outperform everyone in the sport that we both love?”

Marc huffs a laugh in response, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. He knows why Dovi is truly here, despite his friend’s bullshit, but he cannot bring himself to be annoyed about his obvious weakness. It is nice to have a friend who is not Alex around. He knows affection is rolling off him in waves but simply does not care -pleased at the ease that is quick to settle between them, despite the years.

“I will be with you in a few minutes, go annoy someone else whilst we debrief”

Dovi laughs at that, making Marc grin, all teeth, in return.

Debrief is a quick affair, the team are delighted with p1, and simply want to talk about the race set-up, as well the minute areas for improvement on track. They release Marc after 20 minutes, giving him proud smiles and comforting touches as he leaves. He is once again overwhelmed by his love for the team which has re-awoken his passion for the sport which has taken but also given him so much.

A quick scan of the garage tells him Dovi has found one Alex Marquez to annoy, much to Marc’s amusement. He grabs his phone off the table (he had regained possession of it from Alex earlier) and turns it on for the first time in 12 hours, desperate to check his messages since he has 5 minutes to himself. He scrolls through his notifications.

His manager and parents have messaged, the latter asking him to call them when he has a chance, although he’s sure they have probably spoken to Alex, explaining the lack of urgency. He has a message from Casey Stoner, telling him to keep his head up and to ignore the media, although his choice of words is a little stronger. Marc lets out a startled laugh, warmed by the unexpected gesture from the older man. The next text makes him stop in his tracks, confusion bubbling inside him. It’s from an unknown number, and simply reads “Stop playing games.” A sense of unease fills Marc as he deletes the message, unwilling to entertain whoever thinks they can hide behind a screen and say what they want, he should just forget about it. The final and most recent text is from Dani. It simply reads “Tell Dovi he’s a dick for stealing my thunder. Unfair advantage, he was already in the country. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

A hand lands on his shoulder from behind, and Dovi’s head follows. Nosy fucker. He lets out a cackle at the text, pulling away to laugh even harder. Marc very much feels like he’s missed a joke, and he has no clue who “we” refers to. He simply replies to the chat with a thumbs up and accepts his fate of being coddled by the older riders for the rest of the weekend.

*

The pole position high doesn’t last very long. Marc and Dovi are walking back towards the motorhomes when he comes crashing back down to earth. Saturdays are always a bit chaotic at the track. But today, it feels worse than usual, with people staring and murmuring as they pass. Some of the comments are less than pleasant. Marc tries not to let it affect him, portraying a persona of indifference, no matter how much the words sting. Dovi talks lowly as they walk, his presence reassuring amidst the harsh whispers washing over them, swelling in a crescendo of cruelty.

“-he should have taken more pills”

“-can’t believe he actually did it”

“How selfish-”

“Have you seen the articles? I read that-”

From the limited information he has been given, or overheard, Marc gathers that the public reaction to the news has been mixed, to say the least. Some people are outraged by the leak and the subsequent media frenzy, destroying any sense of privacy left in Marc’s life. Others have been senselessly cruel, spewing hatred online about his mental health or even going as far as suggesting that he deserves it. Marc swallows the bile in the back of his throat, unwilling to break now. He knows he can’t let the public see his defences crumble, it will only give them more opportunity to kick him when he’s down. He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice who they’re walking towards, until it’s too late.

Marc hears Valentino before he sees him, talking to Pecco in hushed tones. His rapid-fire Italian is so familiar, yet also a distant memory. He feels the way his companion stiffens as they approach the pair and senses their eyes burning into him in return. No doubt Pecco has already told the older all about Marc’s breakdown yesterday. The reminder that Valentino is once more witnessing his life falling apart is nauseating. Marc steadfastly ignores them as Dovi steers them in the right direction. A confrontation is not what he needs right now.

He doesn’t register anything is off until someone careens straight into their path, sending Marc stumbling backwards in shock. He flinches at the look of pure hatred on the fan’s face.

“You should have done it properly; you couldn’t even kill yourself correctly. The world would be a better place without you.”

Marc chokes on his breath, his eyes burning, rapidly blinking as he tries to parse the scathing words. Dovi is frozen in shock, horrified that anyone would utter such a thing. Time freezes as the people close enough to have overheard all turn to look in their direction, willing a response from Marc. Ironically, it’s Pecco who breaks the moment, face like thunder as he storms over. Marc watches in a haze as Pecco reaches them, breathing heavily and shooting a look at Dovi, prompting him to drag the Spaniard to safety. Marc distantly registers Valentino frowning over at them, a flash of unreadable emotion in his eyes as he watches Dovi tugging him away.

Marc doesn’t look back, mind too preoccupied with the stewing self-loathing in his gut and the cloud of dark thoughts in his head. As such, he doesn’t see Pecco looming over the man who spat such vicious words at him, gesturing at security for him to be removed and permanently banned. He doesn’t see the older Italian glaring at Marc and Dovi’s retreating forms, a mixture of resentment and jealousy staining his features. He does, however, hear Valentino whispering that it’s not worth it, leading a distraught Pecco away, cracking Marc’s heart clean in two, once again.

[scrollonso]

Part Of The Family — Bearnelli

Vale and his sons had always been a tight-knit family, bound not only by blood but by the bond on track at the ranch. The academy wasn’t just a place to train — it was a sanctuary, a home where riders, blood or not, became family. Whether you were an old friend or a new face, you were welcomed with open arms, but that didn’t mean you were free from scrutiny. Trust was earned, and everyone who stepped onto the ranch knew that you had to prove yourself, not just as a rider but as someone who understood the unique bond shared by Vale and his boys.

When Ollie first started hanging around Kimi, it wasn’t long before the academy boys began to notice how seamlessly the two fit into each other’s lives. It wasn’t just that they spent a lot of time together; it was the ease with which they did it. The way Kimi would light up when Ollie was around, the comfortable silences they shared, the subtle, unspoken understanding between them — it was obvious to everyone. From the outside, it seemed like Ollie had slipped into Kimi’s life as if he’d always been there.

It didn’t take long before the academy boys began to exchange knowing glances. To them, it was clear as day. Kimi and Ollie weren’t just friends — they were something more. Maybe they hadn’t realized it themselves yet, but to the rest of the group, the signs were all there. Kimi’s laugh was just a little louder when Ollie cracked a joke, and Ollie’s gaze lingered just a little longer when Kimi walked by. The way they worked together during training, almost in sync, seemed too natural to be purely platonic.

Still, in typical academy fashion, no one said anything outright. They just watched, waiting for the inevitable moment when the two would finally admit what everyone else had already figured out. The scrutiny was subtle at first, but as the days passed, the protective nature of the academy boys kicked in, and Ollie found himself on the receiving end of a series of increasingly pointed comments and warnings.

Pecco was the first to pull Ollie aside. It was during one of their post-training sessions, when the rest of the academy was scattered around the ranch, cooling down from the day’s work. Ollie was wiping the sweat from his brow when Pecco, who had been watching him for a while, walked up with a determined look on his face. Crossing his arms, Pecco stared at him, his eyes narrowing in a way that made Ollie feel like he was about to be grilled.

“Don’t hurt Andrea,” Pecco said, his tone firm, almost like a protective older brother issuing an ultimatum.

Ollie blinked, completely taken aback. His mind raced, trying to figure out what Pecco meant by that. Why would he hurt Kimi? Where was this even coming from? He opened his mouth to respond, but the words came out in a stammer. “Why would I—?”

Pecco didn’t let him finish. “Just don’t,” he cut in, his voice final, leaving no room for argument. The warning hung in the air, and Ollie was left speechless. Pecco gave him one last pointed look before walking off, leaving Ollie standing there, utterly baffled.

For a while, Ollie convinced himself that maybe Pecco was just being overprotective, maybe even a little paranoid. But then, a few days later, Franky caught him alone. It was during one of their routine training drills, and Ollie was focused on his bike when Franky appeared, his expression unreadable. He didn’t waste time on small talk. Instead, he got straight to the point, his voice low and serious.

“You better treat Kimi right,” Franky said, his tone carrying the weight of someone who wasn’t just offering advice — he was delivering a warning.

Ollie, once again, found himself at a loss for words. His brain scrambled for a response, but he could only manage a nervous stammer. “I— I don’t know what you’re—”

Franky’s expression didn’t soften. He simply gave a nod, as if to say the conversation was over, and walked off, leaving Ollie more confused than ever. What was going on? Why were they acting like this?

It seemed like everyone had some unspoken knowledge that Ollie was completely in the dark about. Each warning felt heavier than the last, and Ollie couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was happening right under his nose — something he hadn’t figured out yet.

Before long, it felt like Ollie couldn’t go anywhere without running into one of the academy boys, and every encounter seemed to end with some form of cryptic warning or veiled threat. Bez, usually the most laid-back of the group, caught him during a rare quiet moment by the garage. With a grin, he slapped Ollie on the back, but his words were anything but casual. “Andrea's important to us, man. Don’t screw it up.”

Ollie blinked, caught off guard by the comment. “Screw what up?” he asked, but Bez just walked away with a knowing smirk, leaving Ollie even more confused than before.

The next day, Cele found Ollie grabbing a drink by the track and leaned in conspiratorially, his tone more serious than usual. “We’re all watching you, just so you know. Kimi’s family. You better not mess with him.”

Ollie stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m not messing with anyone!” he protested, but Cele had already given him a pat on the shoulder and walked off, his message delivered.

By the time Mig cornered him during one of the cool-down sessions, Ollie was already on edge, bracing himself for whatever strange advice or threat was coming next. Mig, ever the quiet one, didn’t say much — just gave Ollie a long, appraising look before muttering, “You know how much Kimi means to us, right? Just… don’t do anything stupid.”

At this point, Ollie was utterly baffled and increasingly paranoid. It felt like everyone had some sort of hidden agenda, and he was the only one out of the loop. Every interaction left him more confused than the last, and by the end of the week, he was at his breaking point.

“I don’t even know what’s happening!” Ollie finally burst out, throwing his hands in the air in frustration while he and Luca were walking back to the house after training. “Every time I turn around, someone’s telling me not to hurt Kimi or warning me to treat him right. What the hell is going on?”

Luca, who had been quietly observing the whole situation for ages, smirked knowingly. “They think you’re dating,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "They did the same thing when I first brought Lance."

Ollie almost choked on his own breath. “What?!” he sputtered, stopping in his tracks. “No! Kimi’s like a brother to me! Why would they even think that?”

Luca raised an eyebrow, shrugging as if it all made perfect sense. “Well,” he started, “you two are always together. I mean, you spend practically every second at the ranch with Kimi. And he’s… different around you. More comfortable, you know? Plus, you fit right in with the rest of us. It looks pretty obvious from the outside.”

Ollie shook his head, still in disbelief. “We’re not dating,” he insisted, rubbing his face in exasperation. “How do I get them to stop thinking that?”

Luca shrugged again, a casual smile tugging at his lips. “You could try telling them,” he offered, his tone playful. “But I’m not sure they’ll believe you.”

Ollie and Kimi decided it was finally time to sit everyone down and clear up the ongoing confusion. They'd been hearing whispers and side comments for a while now, and it was starting to get out of hand. So, they gathered the entire group in the dining room, preparing themselves for what they knew would be an awkward conversation.

With everyone seated around them, Ollie nervously cleared his throat and began. "So, uh, we’ve heard some things," he started, his voice faltering slightly.

Kimi, who was sitting beside him, rolled his eyes at Ollie’s hesitance and decided to cut straight to the point. "Everyone apparently thinks we’re dating."

Ollie quickly nodded in agreement, glancing around at their friends. "Yeah, but we’re not," he clarified, hoping that would put an end to the rumors.

But before they could say more, the entire group burst into laughter. The teasing smiles on the others' faces made Kimi and Ollie even more defensive, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

"What!" Kimi blurted out, his voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "He’s like another brother to me. What are you guys even talking about?"

Ollie was quick to chime in, nodding vigorously to reinforce Kimi’s point. "Seriously, we’re just friends."

But the laughter didn’t stop. Bez, leaning back in his chair, let out a chuckle and shook his head, clearly amused by their flustered reactions, he was the same when Vale confronted him about him and Marc. "Whatever you say," he said, his tone light and teasing.

The rest of the group groaned, half-joking and half-exasperated. It was obvious they weren’t entirely convinced, but after a few more jokes, they let the subject drop — for now, at least. The tension in the room faded as they moved on to other topics, but Kimi and Ollie exchanged a look, knowing that this probably wasn’t the last time they’d have to deal with this particular misunderstanding.

About a week later, during a particularly large family meeting at the ranch, Kimi found himself standing up in front of everyone, his face flushed and his hands nervously clasped together. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he tried to muster up the courage to speak. "So, um… I’ve been thinking… And I may-or-may-not-be-in-love-with-Ollie."

The room fell into an expectant silence. It was as if time had paused for a moment. But instead of the shock or surprise Kimi might have anticipated, the reaction was quite different. Pecco let out a long, exasperated groan that was quickly echoed by the rest of the boys, who seemed almost exasperated by the whole situation.

"We know!" Cele muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Seriously, it took you this long to figure it out?" Luca chimed in, rolling his eyes as he gathered his things to leave. The other boys followed suit, their steps echoing with a casual familiarity.

Kimi stood there, frozen in place, his face a mask of disbelief and confusion. He turned to look at Ollie, who was blinking in stunned realization. "Wait, so… everyone knew except us?"

"Obviously," Bez called over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he walked out of the room. The rest of the group followed, their laughter and chatter fading as they left Kimi and Ollie standing in the middle of the room, completely dumbfounded and caught off guard.

As the last of the footsteps receded, Kimi and Ollie exchanged a bewildered glance, their minds racing to process what had just happened. The realization that they had been the last to know about something so significant left them both speechless, adding a new layer of awkwardness to their already complicated situation.

Kimi and Ollie remained in the center of the room, the weight of the situation settling heavily between them. Kimi stared at the empty doorway where the others had just exited, trying to process the wave of information that had just crashed over him.

"How… how did everyone know?" Kimi finally managed to ask, his voice tinged with bewilderment.

Ollie, still grappling with his own shock, shook his head. "I have no idea. I thought we were being subtle."

Kimi let out a disbelieving laugh, his eyes scanning the now-empty room as if expecting an explanation to materialize out of thin air. "Subtle? Everyone knew we were dancing around something, and you didn’t think anyone would notice?"

Ollie’s face turned a shade of pink, a mix of embarrassment and frustration evident in his expression. "I didn’t think it was that obvious. I thought we were doing okay."

"Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret," Kimi said, trying to force a sense of humor into the situation to ease the tension. "I guess we just didn’t see it."

Ollie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, what now? Do we just… go with it?"

Kimi took a deep breath, his gaze meeting Ollie’s. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to dissolve as they stood there, confronting the reality of their feelings. “Maybe it’s not about just going with it,” Kimi said softly. “Maybe it’s about acknowledging what’s been there all along, eh?”

Ollie’s eyes searched Kimi’s, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt. “Yeah, I guess we should actually talk about this,” he said, his voice steady but filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Kimi nodded, feeling a surge of courage. “Agreed. But before we dive into all of that, maybe we should just—” He hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer to Ollie. The distance between them felt charged, and he could sense Ollie’s own nervous energy.

Ollie’s eyes widened slightly as Kimi got on the tips of his toes and gently cupped his face with both hands. The touch was tender, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Kimi leaned in slowly, giving Ollie ample time to pull back if he wanted to.

Ollie’s breath hitched as their faces drew closer, and before he could second-guess himself, he closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss that gradually deepened as they both gave in to the moment. The kiss was a mixture of relief, affection, and unspoken understanding — a confirmation of the feelings they had both been trying to navigate.

When they finally pulled away, both Kimi and Ollie were breathless, their eyes locked in a gaze filled with newfound clarity.

“I guess that’s one way to handle it,” Ollie said with a small smile, his hand still resting gently on Kimi’s cheek.

Kimi chuckled softly, his heart still racing. “Yeah, I think it’s a good start.”

As Kimi and Ollie stood in the middle of the room, still processing their kiss, the door creaked open. Kimi’s brothers, who had been lingering just outside, peeked in with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Luca, with a smirk on his face, was the first to speak. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene before him.

Pecco, with a more puzzled expression, stepped into the room, glancing between Kimi and Ollie. “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Ollie and Kimi quickly pulled apart, their faces flushing with embarrassment as they realized they had been caught in the middle of their little intimate moment. Kimi looked at his brothers, his cheeks red with a mix of shame and frustration. “Guys, seriously? You couldn’t knock?”

Luca chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “We were just coming to see if you two were okay. And, well, it looks like you are.”

Marco nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “Seems like you two had a lot to talk about.”

Ollie rubbed the back of his neck, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, we did. But now we’re, uh, a little thrown off.”

Kimi’s face softened as he glanced at Ollie, then back at his brothers. “Well, now that you’re here, I guess you’ve figured out what’s been going on.”

Luca shrugged, his smirk widening. “Yeah, we figured it out a while ago. But it’s nice to see you two finally acknowledging it.”

Franky stepped forward, offering a supportive smile. “If you guys need any advice or just want to talk, you know we’re here for you.”

Kimi and Ollie exchanged relieved glances, their tension easing slightly at their brothers' acceptance. Kimi gave a small nod, appreciating the support. “Thanks. We’ll definitely take you up on that.”

As Kimi’s brothers left the room, still chuckling and exchanging knowing looks, Kimi turned back to Ollie, taking a deep breath. “Well... at least it’s out in the open now.”

Ollie smiled, squeezing Kimi’s hand. “Yeah, it is.”

[the-offside-rule]

Marc Marquez (Gresini) - I'm Back

Requested: yes

Prompt: 57) "I am loving the helmet hair."

Warnings: nope

The scorching asphalt of the MotoGP track still radiated heat as Marc Márquez guided his bike to a respectable second-place finish. The cheers of the crowd mingled with the ecstatic shouts of his team members as they greeted him in the pit lane. As he parked his bike, he ran towards his team, jumping into them as all Marc felt was numerous pats on the back.

Sweat glistened on his forehead as he removed his helmet, his adrenaline still surging from the intense race. Amidst the chaotic celebration, Marc's eyes sought out the one person who mattered most to him in that moment; his girlfriend, Y/n. He spotted her just to the left of him, a proud smile gracing her lips as she waved at him. With a grin, he made his way over, helmet in hand.

"There you are." He said, his voice slightly hoarse from the exertion of the race. "Did you see that?" He pressed a gebtle kiss onto her cheek as Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck. Y/n chuckled, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Of course I did. I am so proud of you, babe." Marc's heart swelled with pride at her words. Leaning in, he pressed another quick kiss to her lips before pulling back, his grin widening. "I had to come over and celebrate with my favorite person." He said to her. Y/n playfully nudged him. "Flatterer. How's it feel to be back on the track?"

"Like I never left." Marc replied with a shrug, though a hint of nostalgia tinged his words. "But it's good to be here, I couldnt have done this without you." Y/She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, I know. I'm basically your lucky charm." He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "You definitely are." Y/n's gaze shifted to his disheveled hair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And I must say, I'm loving the helmet hair." Marc ran a hand through his tousled locks, giving her a playful look. "You mean this masterpiece?" He laughed, knowing full well how ridiculous he must look. She nodded, still grinning. "Absolutely. You should wear it like that more often."

"Maybe I will." He teased, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. "Just for you." Y/n laughed, swatting his arm playfully. "You're impossible." Marc's smile softened, his gaze lingering on her face. "I love you." He said, the words sincere and heartfelt. "I love you too." She replied, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "I should go," Marc said reluctantly, giving Y/n a quick squeeze. "But I'll see you up there, okay?" Y/n nodded, her eyes shining with pride. "I'll be cheering for you the loudest."

With one last smile, Marc turned and made his way towards the podium, his heart light with the knowledge that Y/n was waiting for him, her unwavering support a constant source of strength. And as he stood atop the podium, the roar of the crowd echoing around him, he couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world.

[lxndonorris]

fluffy surprise - Marco Bezzecchi

Y/N x Marco Bezzecchi Theme: Fluff Marco has a fluffy surprise for you x word count: 840+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

The new year started just two weeks ago, but it feels like it's been a few minutes. Life tends to be hectic, and at times, it feels like everything and everyone is moving at light speed.

You're walking through your apartment, carrying multiple little boxes at once. It's that time again, and you feel like changing the living room decoration. There are so many little pieces—figurines, books, and pictures—that need to be adjusted to leave the old year behind.

You're putting up some new pictures you took with your boyfriend, Marco. He was the one who approached you during a night out, and it was so much fun. For two months now, you've been dating, and it's just perfect.

When he told you about his profession as a MotoGP pilot, you were intrigued right away. The way he spoke about it all made you fall in love with the whole sport as well. Even though the schedule might become an issue in the future, the two of you are certain to rise above it.

You put the last stack of boxes down, ready to join the others in the basement, and you hear the door at the end of the hallway creak open.

"Y/N? It's me, Marco." You hear his voice echo through the hallway as he steps inside.

"I'm in the bedroom." You say this with a huge smile forming on your lips. He wasn't sure if he could make it, so his arrival is an even better surprise.

Marco takes his jacket off and makes his way toward you. Hearing his footsteps approaching, you turn around just in time to see him enter the bedroom.

"Hey." He says so happily and leans forward, kissing you softly. You embrace his soft lips on your own, and subconsciously, you run your fingers along his firm arm until you reach his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Mhmm." Marco purrs before he pulls away, tilting his head and watching the stack of boxes sitting behind you on the bed. "You already started?" He says this, a shy smile spreading across his face.

"I'm already done." You tilt your head as well, almost teasingly, and squeeze his hand lovingly. "So, the rest of the day is ours alone."

Marco licks his lips, but he acts a little weird: he blushes and pulls his hand out of yours to run it through his beautiful hair. "Very good." He chuckles, looks down, and his face flushes with even more color.

"Is everything okay?" You say, and that's when you notice him hiding something beside his back.

"Yeah, yeah." He nods and lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes sparkle a little; a hint of shyness is hidden inside them, which sends shivers down your spine. "I've got something for you." Marco's voice is a little rougher than usual as he reveals a little, colorful bag hidden behind his back.

Your heart quickens with anticipation. "Marco." You say it in a higher-pitched voice. "You shouldn't have."

Curiosity fills the air all around you as he hands you the bag.

"I saw this and thought of you." Marco's face lights up as a slight smile plays on his lips. He stroked his own chest once before running a hand through his hair again.

You feel your face and your entire body heat up as well. Just holding the bag lets the excitement ignite a fiery spark inside your belly.

Carefully, you open the bag, revealing a fluffy cat plush with its soft fur and big button eyes instantly capturing your attention. "Ohhhh." You let out a sound, so soft yet so telling. The little plush stares into your eyes, causing you to smile so, so brightly.

"It's so cute." The same sound escapes your lips, and even though no one might ever decipher it, Marco's smile widens as he starts to giggle.

"I hope you'll like it." He says it softly as you pull the plush out of the bag. His cheeks flush with a mix of nerves and excitement. "I thought it might keep you company when I'm not around." Marco explains.

A warmth spreads through your entire chest as you hug the push close. "It's perfect." You exclaim, unable to contain your joy.

The two of you share a moment of laughter, his initial shyness melting away. With a tender smile, he pulls you into a hug, the simple gesture of sealing the sentiment behind this thoughtful gift.

"Thank you, Marco." You steady yourself against him as you start swaying slightly.

"You're very welcome." He purrs again.

In that embrace, you feel a connection that speaks louder than words ever could. He places a kiss on your forehead before he separates himself just enough for you to still feel the warmth of his body.

"I know the right spot for her." You glance at the soft cat plush, and together, you make the living room.

Right there, on the now empty shelf, you put her as Marco hugs you from behind again.

[marquez-junky8920]

Okaaaaay SO I've been totally neglecting this blog lately. Life has been super chaotic recently and I'm finally settling down after almost a year of absolute chaos and stress. Your girl is done with this bullshit.🥲

ANYWHO - I come back here to this wonderful app today and see that I have 300 followers!? Last I left it, I had around 230 and I've not been active on here in forever. Thank y'all for all the support even though I've been on this unofficial hiatus. It means the world to see that y'all still read my fics and support my work! 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

All this to say... In honor is 300 followers, should I write another fic? I still have 8 requests left in my inbox. Let me know... 👀😏

[lucy90712]

Marc Marquez- Enemies

Signing for the pramac team and getting to race in MotoGP was something I'd dreamed of for many years and I was so excited about it but it has turned out to be my worst nightmare. You see when I got to race once in the class as a replacement rider I managed to make an enemy without really trying who has been ruining my life now that I'm here permanently. I thought that I was racing well and being respectful of everyone there at the time but clearly Marc Marquez didn't agree or found some other reason to dislike me because now he really seems to hate me. Even when I went back to moto2 I was always hearing his opinion on my racing and he seemed to be friends with everyone else but me which was really frustrating as I just wanted to be civil with him I mean we didn't have to be friends but no he chose enemies. That didn't change one bit when I moved to MotoGP if anything it got worse as it always seems like he pulls silly manoeuvres just on me during races or will pull up behind me when doing practice starts just to psych me out.

Last season I let him get the best of me towards the end and said and did some stupid things which I really regret but I'm determined not to do the same this season. I have moved up to the factory Ducati team this year after doing pretty well last season and I'm determined to show them what I can do and prove that it was the right decision to give me the ride. So far this season I've done pretty well not finishing outside the top 10 apart from one time the brakes broke and I had to jump off the bike and getting a few podiums but it's been a struggle to adapt to the bike as it has so many different features but recently I feel like I've been doing better especially as I was just a tenth off the win at the last race. At this race I'm determined to finally get my first win with the team and get them some good points for the championship.

Typically this weekend we are at Sachsenring where both me and Marc are really good. The team have been telling me not to have expectations as the track isn't really suited to the bike but I'm determined to do well here and show Marc that he has some serious competition. Since I moved to Ducati me and Marc have become each other main rivals as we both end up on about the same lap times and roughly in the same positions in the race and now he's just a few points ahead in the championship which I'm looking to close even more in this race. We are yet to go out on track but I'm really feeling confident and I've been watching the last few years races in between to study the track as well as where the bike seems weak so I know where I can and can't push which I'm hoping will play to my advantage as long as I've interpreted things correctly.

The media attention this weekend has been insane and I've done more interviews than ever all because this is where they believe they will really see mine and Marc's rivalry come to the surface. Usually I wouldn't like too much attention but I've been trying to use it to my advantage and get my name out there as a serious contender for the championship fight. The biggest problem with this is that there are constantly cameras in my face like now that we are preparing for fp1 there is at least 4 cameras on my garage with 3 of them focussed directly on me which is an issue as they always break my focus when I'm trying to get into the zone. Eventually I had enough and just sat on the bike in front of the garage with my helmet on to help block everything else out until the team were ready for me to go.

Like always I was one of the first out on track and set an early lap time before coming in again to see how it compares to what others did. My time was pretty good but Pecco was a few tenths quicker which meant there was room to improve so I hoped back on the bike and head down pit lane but when I turned around to make sure I wasn't too close to anyone Marc was coming out his garage right behind me. Generally I don't mind him following me as it means I'm faster and he wants to use me as a marker or for slipstream but this weekend I didn't want him to as he probably has a slight edge on me so using my slipstream would only make him faster but I guess that's what racing is all about. After another set of laps I came in to check the data before one last time attack and just as I got in they put a replay of one of my laps where Marc got incredibly close behind in a corner and was inches away from taking me out, it was hard to watch it was that close but luckily I didn't notice actually on track so I didn't lose focus.

~~~~~~~~~~

Every other practice ended much the same way with Marc following me around even when I pulled out of a lap he would do the same just to stick with me. His little plan wasn't working though as I have the quickest lap time going into qualifying with him 4th. Through the weekend I've been predicted to get pole which I would love but Pecco is also looking really good and seeing as we have the same bike there's a good chance he could beat me to it. For some reason this weekend I'm really feeling the nerves which is unusual as I mostly only get nervous right before the start of a race not for qualifying but today I'm all over the place. My nervousness must be quite obvious as the team have been trying to help keep me calm and even Pecco has been trying to help which was sweet but it hasn't really worked I'm still just as nervous which isn't what I want when trying to get my first pole position.

As qualifying got closer I watched q1 to see the lap times and who was coming through and their times weren't that near what I knew I could do so that calmed my nerves a little but when it was time to get on the bike all the nerves came right back. For qualifying the team wanted me to go out alone first before coming back in and going out with Pecco so we could help each other which I was fine with as it would be good for the team if we could both qualify on the front row. The plan quickly went wrong when I left the garage and Marc followed right behind me for the whole outlay and then got even closer when we both started our first flying laps. This didn't got well for him though as he went in too fast on one corner and had to hold back a bit while I set the fastest time in the session and then slowed down so I could go back to the pit which I did and the team went over the plan again. I went out first with Pecco right behind me as he was currently 5th but as we were going down pit lane Marc cut in between us and I wanted to slow down to get back to position but I didn't want a penalty so I had to keep going and hope that Pecco could use Marc as his target instead of me.

All of that threw me off my first lap a little bit and I made a few mistakes but I had one more go at it so I put my head down and forgot all about everything around me and focussed on doing a good lap. As I crossed the line I felt good but I had no idea where I actually qualified as there were more people still to taken the checkered flag and most of them had red sectors from what I could see on the screen. Getting round to the practice start area I kept checking every screen until everyone had crossed the line and I was still on pole. I actually got pole position, my first pole position at probably the most important race for me which felt so good as I've been waiting for this day for forever. While checking the screen I saw that Pecco got 2nd and Marc was 3rd which meant that hopefully I had a bit of protection at the start of the race from Marc and his antics.

Getting into parc ferme the whole team were excited and they all congratulated me even if they were part of Pecco's side of the garage which juts goes to show how close the entire team is. Pecco himself came over to congratulate me too because as much as we are rivals on track we are good friends off track and always happy for one another even if it means getting beaten. Marc on the other hand wasn't quite as nice he simply came over and patted my back before walking to his interview without saying a word which has become the norm with him even when I make an effort to properly congratulate him. Just when I thought that I would be done with his antics for the day I had to do my interview and the first thing they asked was my response to a comment Marc had made about how I wouldn't be a threat in the race as I was really pushing just to put that lap time in. Hearing what he said really hurt as when I have worked to hard to get to where I am right now and to get my first pole position is something I've been excited about since I joined the class and to have it ruined because of one stupid comment is really annoying. Not to mention that when I was younger I really looked up to Marc as he was achieving great things and breaking records which is what I dreamed of doing so for him to hate me so much for seemingly no reason ruined all those childhood memories of watching races and wanting to do what he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

After many interviews and press conferences all questioning my ability to hang on in the race or asking about Marc I wasn't excited about my pole position anymore and I'm still not even now that the race is starting in under and hour. I just can't bring myself to be excited about it when I know how tough the race is going to be and that everyone's eyes will be in me to see if I succumb to Marc's predictions. Usually before a race I'm a bit nervous but adrenaline usually takes over and makes me excited to get out on the bike but today I'm the opposite there isn't a single shred of excitement I'm just dreading having to go out there in case I fail and ruin the good reputation I have built for myself. To calm myself down I often watch whatever race is on before and today is no different but while stood at the pit wall I found my mind drifting to thinking about how I would take each corner and what I would do if I was overtaken at a certain part of the track which is not at all what I was going for.

Eventually it came time for the race to start and all the mechanics had left the grid meaning it was all down to me now and no one could do anything to help me. Luckily the warm up lap was first which helped me to feel more confident as the bike felt good just like it had all weekend despite changing a few things for the race. Once back in my place on the grid the lights came on and I watched them closely waiting until they finally disappeared which is when I set off. My start was pretty good but the bike was a little out of control into the first corner but I kept it together and came out the first corner still in first which was great but it meant I had no idea who was behind and if Marc had managed to pass Pecco or if someone else entirely was there. By the 3rd corner I really got into the race and forgot about who might be behind me and just focussed on myself and my race as otherwise I knew I'd start to make mistakes which is not what I want to do.  

After 5 laps Marc caught up to me and kept attempting to overtake but he could never make it past as I either out-braked him or simply didn't let him past which made the crowd cheer every time which spurred me on to keep going as they enjoyed the fight and so did I. For once I was winning the battle with Marc as usually he can get the best of me but today I'm not going to let it happen this is my race and I won't settle for second just to not ruffle some feathers. After a few more laps Marc made a mistake and went incredibly wide which I took advantage of to create a few tenths gap which made me feel a lot more comfortable. The gap increased lap by lap for a good majority of the race but in the last 5 laps it started to close no matter how hard I pushed my tyres were just gone and I was losing grip. As much as I didn't want to I had to let Marc catch me and hope that I could do what I did earlier and hope that the tyres didn't let me down.

Marc quickly caught me and passed a few times but each time got him back almost instantly that was until he went up the inside when there wasn't really a gap for him. Instantly I felt myself losing control and the next thing I knew I went tumbling into the gravel eventually stopping with Marc's bike on top of my ankle which was throbbing with pain. As much as I was in a lot of pain I was more angry than anything as I was on to win my first race but as usual Marc had to go ahead and ruin it by making a stupid manoeuvre. He ran over and attempted to pick his bike up and I wanted to tell him to go away but I wanted the bike off my foot more so I let him try although in the end he needed help from the marshals who took what felt like forever to arrive. Once the bike was off my foot Marc helped me walk to the moped that was waiting for us which he drove to the medical centre where my team were waiting to help me. They assessed me in the medical centre and I had just dislocated my ankle which was a relief as everyone in the team was worried it was broken but I hadn't and I should be able to recover quickly enough for the next race.

When I left the medical centre Marc was sat outside waiting so when I came down the steps he tried to talk to me but my crew chief stopped him as he knows about our rivalry and how much Marc annoys me but for once I actually wanted to talk to him and see what on earth was going through his head when he made that move. We went back to my motorhome so I could sit and rest my ankle and so we could talk in private but it was awkward as we both sat down in complete silence for a few moments not being used to being in the same room as each other.

"Y/n I'm so sorry about that I shouldn't have gone for that gap and I feel so bad that I hurt you" Marc said breaking the silence

"I'm not bothered about this race as much as it's frustrating I just want to know why you hate me so much and don't tell me you don't because it's so obvious" I said just waiting answers once and for all

"You aren't going to believe me when I say it" Marc comment

"We'll just go ahead and say it and we'll find out if I believe you" I quipped urging him to spit it out

"Well when you first came in as a replacement and I saw you during media I thought you were amazing but then you were better than me and I felt threatened as people kept comparing us and saying you were giving me a run for my money and I hated that so I then hated you" he explained

"Wait so just because I was better you hated me?" I questioned

"Yeah and it didn't help that I thought you were incredibly beautiful and I didn't want to catch feelings so I pushed you away in anyway possible which didn't work at all because I ended up catching feelings" he added

It took me by surprise that he liked me in that way because when we first met I was attracted to him but because he had been so awful to me I had pushed those feelings to the back of my mind as I thought he clearly didn't feel the same. Hearing him say that made me relive the first time I met him and how I said to my friends that I was going to struggle to focus if he was around. Oh how things changed very quickly but those thoughts didn't go away they were just overshadowed by the rivalry we both had.

"You know I felt the same when we both met and I would have loved to be friends at the very least but I couldn't take the way you treated me" I explained to him

"Can we maybe try this again and go out to dinner or something even if it's just as friends to get to know each other and forget about this rivalry?" He asked

"I'm up for that but if you knock me off like that again it's all over" I joked

We both hugged each other and agreed to do out together when I was feeling better s d if you'd have told me that I would be happy about that just a few hours ago I would have laughed at you but here we are. It felt good that we had seemingly made up and could put this stupid rivalry behind us and become friends or even maybe more if all goes well which I wouldn't be against.

[sivyera]

dating Pedro Acosta would include..

pedro acosta x fem!reader

a/n: fluff but there is also some smut part so, MDNI, 18+

༺☆༻

when it comes to racing, Pedro is really passionate so before race be prepared for at least a small quickie or him being buried in your thighs cuz that calms him down

he also says it brings him a good luck so

after race he has A LOT of adrenaline so once again be either prepared for praising sex that's after a win, where he praise you like "you're such a good girl for me" "i won for you, princesa... you deserve this and much more"

he'll be all soft and cuddly and warm yk

but be also prepared for very rough sex when he lose, that's a whole different story

the adrenaline is boosted with anger so he has bigger stamina than ever, he'll be like "fuck...ngh you can cum one more time, come on" "you're such a slut for me, i love it- ugh.."

he'd call you all different nicknames but mostly princesa, cariňa, baby, angel

every time he sees you in his merch, he goes all warm and soft inside

but when he sees you in his home clothes, like his t-shirt in which he sleeps in, where his scent is, it gives him a completely different feeling

he gets possessive and proud, it also makes him horny asf

he's post you on instagram a lot, because he's very proud to be your boyfriend and he thinks the world needs to know

matching pyjamas with sharks for sure, it would be his fav thing and i'm telling you he'd put it as a wallpaper (a photo with you and him wearing those pyjamas with sharks, you kissing his cheek while his arm would be wrapped around your waist)

late night rides on his bike

to be honest he'd probably fuck you at least one time on his bike, somewhere private tho because he's not sharing you wit anyone

he loves cuddling with you face to face, really close to each other, his hand wrapped around you while playing with the ends of your hair

his favourite places to kiss you are for sure your lips, collarbone and thighs

watching horror or comedy movies with you are also one of his fav things to do with you, he has you close and if you ever scared of some scene in the horror movie, he'd wrap his arms around you and 'protect' you but he'd always laugh a bit, maybe even tease you a bit

whenever you cheer for him on a race, he blushes under his helmet

he's looking for you every time he's on a track even tho it's just for a second, you're his motivation

he never fails to make you laugh, it's like his superpower and to be honest he does it all the time on purpose because he finds your laugh adorable

he'd wear your hair band on his wrist and he'd probably never take it off, not even for the race, he has a small piece of you there which helps him A LOT

if you can ride a bike, he'd race you for fun aaand you'd probably win because he'd let you

if you cannot ride a bike tho, he'd either teach you or he'll give you just a ride, depends on what you choose

when he knows he's absolutely serious with you and you with him, he'll get your name tattooed

after all he's a good guy so take a good care of him, because he cares about A LOT and he really loves you more than you can imagine

[kingofthecotas]

postscript | ao3

future fic | ~1.5k words

love writing post-reconciliation with no idea how they got there

——

Marc gets in three and a half hours after he was supposed to.

Storms in Japan meant a delayed flight out of Tokyo, a missed connection in Doha, and landing in Rimini just after two in the morning. By the time he collects his bag, finds his car, and makes the drive home, he’s ready to sleep for the next twelve hours.

The house is mostly dark when he opens the front door, holding his breath as if that’s going to make him any quieter, and gently slides his keys onto the hall table. There’s a light on in the living room, though, and he slips down the hallway, leaving his suitcase by the door.

He hasn’t had enough time here yet, caught in the winds of a busy season, but there’s traces of him: Ducati cap slung on the coatrack; a pair of cycling shoes under the stairs, the decorative glass jar filled with the peppered colours of Aragón stones—they’d given it to him on the podium along with his trophy, said this place is yours, and he’d had to bite back tears.

He throws his coat over the banisters, over a BMW WRT jacket, and follows the warm light down the hall.

Valentino is sitting up on the sofa—well, propped up by his loosely balled hand against his cheek, knuckles pressed into his face. The throw blanket, the one he hates, is twisted around his thighs; Marc had snagged it from the household section of some English supermarket, and Valentino likes to complain that it shits fluff everywhere, it’s all over my sofa, it’s all over my jeans, Marc. His eyes are closed, shadowed in the lamplight.

Marc swallows a fond smile and kicks his shoes off, leaving them in the middle of the rug, before he slides himself onto the sofa beside Valentino and pulls the blanket over his legs.

Valentino blinks out of his doze, heavy eyelids and scrunched expression, but it all softens when he finds Marc next to him. “You’re back.”

“Shit journey,” Marc whispers. “You didn’t have to wait.” He always waits.

Valentino shakes his head. “I fell asleep watching the, ah, IMSA. Actually.”

“Of course.” The TV is dark, no laptop in sight, but Marc lets him have it. “Must have been exciting.”

“Mm.” Valentino yawns. “You must be tired. Very hard to be a MotoGP rider these days. All these first-class flights.”

“Terrible, yes. I’m comfortable here, unless your back cannot handle it.”

A smile cracks. Victory. “I am fine.”

“Good,” Marc says, and stretches up to kiss him.

The first time they’d done this again, pressed their lips together after nearly ten years apart, Valentino had shoved him against the wall too hard, overeager, and Marc had nearly headbutted him in the nose and they’d had to laugh at themselves—Marc thinks he would have cried otherwise, at how apart they’d grown, how they’d forgotten how to move together.

No such problems now; they aren’t starving for each other, trying to breathe it in after years of suffocating. It’s—and Marc never thought he would say this about Valentino—easy.

Marc usually runs hot, Valentino cooler, in a way that makes Valentino roll away in the heat of summer nights, grumbling get the fuck away from me, and curl around him as soon as the temperature drops again. His feet, under the blanket, find Marc’s legs.

“Vale,” Marc hisses, because he may as well have pressed an ice cube against his ankles. It’s late October, and Valentino’s core temperature appears to be the same as that of their fridge.

“We can go to bed.”

“You said you were fine.”

“I am fine.”

“Put some fucking socks on.”

Valentino just laughs into the top of Marc’s head. “Ah, you are tired. We should go to bed, yes? You must be stiff from the plane.”

Because he’s laughing, Marc acquiesces, downs blades. “Fine.” His arm is sore, and from the way Valentino is rubbing it, it must be obvious.

They might play at sword-fighting, feints and jabs that are incomprehensible to anyone else—Pecco had watched them bickering in Misano, forehead pinched, until Valentino accepted defeat with a delighted laugh—but in the quiet, between duels, it’s gentle.

“I can get the hot water bottle,” Valentino offers, “or I put the electric blanket on the bed while you were away. Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” Marc whispers. Just hard airport seats and the autumn-night chill. He’s got the rest of his life to get used to it.

“Come on,” Valentino says, soft now. “Ducati will not be happy if I am not taking care of their rider. Plenty of rest before the next race. You know how it is.”

“Oh, but I thought you were watching the endurance race?”

“Probably for the best, you know.” Valentino lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I might sign up to race in another championship if I am not careful.”

“Give you something to do, no?”

“Ah,” Valentino says, “but who would wait up for you with the light on?”

“Not you, you fell asleep.”

Another huff of laughter. Vale lets him get away with a lot these days, silent apologies Marc has already accepted for transgressions long since forgiven. Valentino’s eyes had been huge the first time, uncomprehending, what do you mean okay?

Forgiveness had always come easy to Marc, relatively speaking, even with Valentino. Especially with Valentino.

They peel themselves off the sofa, untangle the blanket—Vale picks a thread of fluff from his jogging bottoms with a sigh, then bends down to scoop up Marc’s abandoned trainers and a long-forgotten wine glass. Marc folds the blanket, places it over the sofa arm, waits for Valentino to head towards the hallway so he can follow. Glass on the hall table: they can wash it tomorrow. Shoes under the stairs. Suitcase left by the door.

“Who has your trophy?”

“Someone in the team.” Marc shrugs. “It will get home somehow.”

“Too many this year for you to keep track of, hm?”

“One hundred and eight,” Marc reminds him, sing-song, and almost relishes the flash in Valentino’s eyes. There’s no danger in it, not anymore.

“I will have to make Pecco work harder, then. We are training on Wednesday.”

“Promise I won’t run him off the track.”

“You are getting soft,” Valentino says with a smile that’s all teeth, but holds the door to their bedroom open and flicks the light switch.

“Like you?”

“Maybe.” And he says it like he doesn’t mind. “Brush your teeth, you smell like you have been on a plane for twelve hours.”

“I have no idea why that is.”

“Mm.”

When Marc is finished in the bathroom, quick shower, teeth brushed, shivering a little as he dries off, he crawls into bed and can’t hold back a sigh at the warmth beneath his skin.

Valentino watches him, so fucking smug—Marc used to hate that expression, used to grit his teeth and lift his chin against it, but now it’s closer to satisfaction, that he was right, that Marc needed something and he got to give it.

“This is the best thing we ever bought,” Marc says with conviction. “My favourite thing in the whole world, maybe.” Álex can laugh at him for having an electric blanket, my God, you’re old, but the heat of it against his arm is heavenly.

“Your favourite, hm?” Valentino smiles again, easy as breathing. “I will remember this.”

There’s no prodding, no you said it wasn’t bad, no see, I told you, wasn’t I right? No knife sliding through the chink in the armour.

“Eh, you are up there as well. Maybe third on the list.”

“So high?” Valentino stretches out his leg, lets Marc move closer. “There must be at least ten bikes you like more than me, yes?”

“It is close,” Marc murmurs, “but you have a lot going in your favour.” His hands find Valentino’s waist, his stomach—still toned, racing GT cars is no walk in the park—and he presses his cheek against Valentino’s outstretched upper arm.

“Yes?”

“Well, you put the blanket on the bed.”

“Ah, yes.” Valentino lets him shift, shift again until he’s comfortable, without complaint, and offers him a tired smile. It’s one of Marc’s favourite smiles, because it’s one just for him. “This is okay?”

Marc closes his eyes, sighing at the brush of fingers on the back of his neck. His arm will be stiff tomorrow, but this will help, and he has ridden through worse. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Vale repeats, and his fingers curl through Marc’s hair. “I bought eggs for breakfast also.”

“You are getting soft,” Marc tells him, grinning loose and easy where it might have been sharp, once.

Valentino only smiles back, and the part of Marc that still gears up for a fight, buried deep but there, stands down. Three years of this do not erase everything that came before, but every minute they spend like this is another coat of paint over the bloody stain. That’s fine; he has time.

He’s got the rest of his life to get used to this.

[ray935sworld]

Mini Rossi is gonna have a trampoline at the ranch and a children swimming pool or something like that which she has to share with her adult brothers, her father's surprised adoptions, the adult men that won't go away.

The boys covering the road to the ranch with chalk drawings of their number/ signs while Gigi adds hearts and sun and flower or wtf a child draws.

Franky chilling in her paddling pool.

Bez and Cele doing tricks on the trampoline and constantly face planting themselves.

All of the doing Bobby car races (they let Gigi win)

[loohs-world]

Fabio Quartararo x reader

fabioquartararo ✓

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user Fabio being a father is everything to me

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fabioquartararo Si en tant qu'épouse tu as toujours été fantastique, en tant que mère tu as prouvé que tu avais une force inépuisable pour prendre soin de notre fille et que tu réussis quand même à avoir une patience sans fin pour me supporter. Il ne fait aucun doute que j'ai trouvé le bon compagnon avec qui partager la vie et qui, au fil des ans, m'a procuré de nombreuses joies. @yousername ❤️

yourusername Je t'aime mon amour d'ici à la lune mon prince charmant ❤️🥹

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[scrollonso]

Thank You — Strollini

The sun was high over Vale’s ranch, its golden rays beating down on the sprawling landscape. Dust floated in the air, kicked up by the bikes that roared across the dirt track. The heat was intense, making the earth dry and cracked, but the academy riders were unfazed. They were in their element, cutting through the sweltering afternoon with the precision and confidence of those born to ride. The track was their playground, each twist and turn a familiar challenge they eagerly embraced. Laughter rang out above the growl of engines, a sound of pure joy that echoed off the surrounding hills.

Among the seasoned riders, there was one figure who stood out — not because of skill, but because of his hesitance. Lance Stroll, usually at home behind the wheel of a F1 car, was out of his depth. His grip on the handlebars was too tight, his posture a little too stiff. The motorcycle beneath him felt foreign, its power more raw and unpredictable than the refined machines he was used to. But despite the nerves gnawing at him, he was determined. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, though it was more from sheer willpower than genuine confidence. He wasn’t about to back down, not here, not in front of Luca’s brother and friends. The embarrassment of admitting he wasn’t cut out for this would be too much to bear.

“Caro, you sure you’re okay with this?” Luca called out, his voice carrying a blend of concern and encouragement. He slowed his pace, falling back to keep an eye on Lance. He could see the tension in the way Lance handled the bike, the mix of caution and determination that marked every move.

“Yeah, I’ve got this!” Lance’s reply came quickly, his tone firm but betraying a hint of the anxiety he felt. He forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to convince Luca — and himself — that he could handle it.

Luca gave a small nod, though his eyes lingered on Lance, the worry not entirely erased. He knew how stubborn Lance could be, how much pride he took in proving himself. But this was different — this wasn’t the controlled environment of a racetrack he knew inside out. This was something wild, something that could easily go wrong. Even as the others zipped past them, their bikes leaning gracefully into the corners with practiced ease, Luca’s focus remained on his boyfriend. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

Lance, meanwhile, did his best to keep up. His focus was razor-sharp, his mind blocking out everything except the path in front of him. The roar of the engine, the dust flying in his wake, the sun beating down on his back — it all faded into the background. He was getting the hang of it, finding a rhythm, even if it was slower than the others. The turns were still tricky, each one a battle to stay upright, but he was doing it. He felt a surge of pride with each successful maneuver, a growing belief that he could pull this off.

But as they neared the last stretch, something inside him urged him to push harder, to prove that he could do more than just keep up. He wanted to impress Luca, to show the others that he wasn’t just some car driver trying to play in their world. He twisted the throttle, feeling the bike surge forward, the speed intoxicating. For a brief moment, he felt the thrill of it, the exhilaration of matching the pace of the others.

Then it all went wrong.

As he approached the next corner, Lance misjudged his speed. The bike wobbled, the back tire slipping on the loose dirt. Before he could react, the bike skidded out from under him, the world tilting violently as he was thrown off. He hit the ground hard, the impact jarring every bone in his body. Pain exploded through him, radiating from his wrists as he instinctively tried to break his fall. The breath was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping as he lay on the ground, his helmeted head resting in the dirt.

The sounds of laughter and chatter that had filled the air just moments before died instantly. The other riders, catching sight of the crash, skidded to a halt, their bikes kicking up clouds of dust as they did. Everyone, Marco, Pecco, Franky, Cele, and Mig, all turned their heads toward the scene, their smiles fading as they registered what had happened.

Lance lay there, unmoving, his bike a twisted heap a few feet away, smoke curling up from where the engine had stalled. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with a sudden, sinking realization.

For a moment, no one really moved. The dust settled around Lance’s prone form, the world eerily still compared to the chaos of just moments before. The academy riders exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

Pecco was the first to speak, trying to lighten the mood. “He’s probably just winded,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual cocky confidence. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. “I mean, he’s not used to this, right?”

Marco forced a chuckle, though it came out strained. “Yeah, he’s probably fine. Just needs a minute to catch his breath.” But his eyes didn’t leave Lance, the doubt creeping in.

Franky and Cele stayed quiet, their attention fixed on Lance, who still hadn’t moved. Mig hesitated, taking a step forward as if to check on him, but then stopped, unsure of what to do.

Luca’s heart was pounding in his chest, the sound of his own pulse loud in his ears. Something was wrong — he could feel it deep in his gut. The others might have thought Lance was just being overly cautious or exaggerating the fall, but Luca knew better. He could see the tension in Lance’s body, the way he wasn’t moving his hands, wasn’t trying to get up. The laughter, the easygoing banter — it all felt wrong now, like a distant memory from a different day.

Without a second thought, Luca pulled off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. He sprinted toward Lance, his boots kicking up dirt as he closed the distance. His breath came in quick, shallow bursts, fear gripping him tighter with each step.

“Lance!” Luca’s voice cracked as he called out, panic lacing his words. He dropped to his knees beside Lance, his hands hovering over him, afraid to touch but desperate to do something, anything. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Lance groaned in response, the sound low and pained. He tried to move, to lift his head, but the effort made him wince, and he collapsed back onto the ground. “Ange… I think… I think I broke something,” he gasped, his voice trembling with the effort of speaking. "God this is so fucking embarrassing" He almost laughed, shaking his head at himself.

Luca’s eyes widened as he saw the unnatural angle of Lance’s wrists. His heart skipped a beat, but he forced himself to stay calm. “It’s okay, amore,” he said softly, his voice steady and soothing despite the fear gnawing at him. “Don’t move, alright? Just stay still.”

He reached out, his hands gentle as he took hold of Lance’s arms, careful not to cause any more pain. “I’m right here,” Luca continued, keeping his tone light, almost tender. “We’re going to get you fixed up. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Lance winced but tried to smile, though the effort was weak. “I’m such an idiot… I should’ve just said no,” he muttered, frustration and pain evident in his voice. “This is so embarrassing.”

Luca shook his head, brushing a few strands of hair from Lance’s forehead with a feather-light touch. “Don’t say that,” he murmured, his tone full of affection. “You were amazing out there. You tried something new, and that’s more than anyone could ask for. We’ll laugh about this later, okay?”

The others, realizing the severity of the situation, quickly gathered around. Marco’s usual bravado had melted away, replaced by a concerned frown. Pecco’s earlier smirk was long gone, his face serious as he looked down at Lance. Franky, Cele, and Mig stood a little further back, their expressions grim.

Marco knelt down beside Luca, his voice low and urgent, afraid to freak Lance out. “We need to call an ambulance. He might have broken both his wrists.”

Luca nodded, but his focus remained on Lance. “Marco, can you make the call?” he asked, his voice still calm but carrying an underlying edge of urgency.

Marco fumbled for his phone, his hands trembling slightly as he dialed. “They’re on their way,” he said after a moment, his voice tense. “They’ll be here soon.”

Luca turned his attention back to Lance, who was starting to look a little pale. He kept his hands on Lance’s arms, not moving them but offering a constant, reassuring presence. “Hey, look at me,” he said gently, trying to keep Lance focused. “We’re going to get you to the hospital, and they’ll take care of everything. Just keep breathing, okay? You’re doing great.”

Lance’s breathing was shallow, each inhale a struggle against the pain, but he nodded slightly. The fear that had gripped him when he first hit the ground was slowly ebbing away, replaced by the comfort of Luca’s voice, the warmth of his touch. Even through the pain, there was a sense of relief that Luca was there, calm and unshakable.

Luca smiled down at him, his eyes full of warmth and affection. “We’ve got you, Lance. You’re going to be just fine,” he whispered, leaning in closer so Lance could hear him clearly. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

The sound of approaching sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Luca didn’t look away from Lance, didn’t let go of him even as the paramedics arrived and started to work. He stayed right there, his voice a constant, soothing presence, guiding Lance through the pain, through the fear.

As the paramedics carefully moved Lance onto the stretcher, immobilizing his wrists with practiced precision, Luca kept talking to him, his tone light and reassuring. He climbed into the ambulance beside Lance, holding his hand the entire time, his touch gentle and steady.

The other riders watched as the ambulance sped away, their faces a mix of guilt and worry. The ranch, once filled with the sounds of laughter and the thrill of racing, now felt quiet and empty, the weight of what had happened settling heavily over them. But even in the midst of their concern, there was a quiet respect for Luca’s calm, for the way he’d held it together when Lance needed him most.

The ambulance ride to the hospital had been tense, but Luca never let go of Lance’s hand, his calm presence a constant source of comfort. As they arrived at the emergency room, the paramedics quickly wheeled Lance through the double doors, the cool, sterile air of the hospital a stark contrast to the hot, dusty ranch. Luca stayed close, his heart racing, but his demeanor steady.

Nurses and doctors took over, assessing Lance’s injuries with swift efficiency. They began speaking in medical terms that blurred together in Luca’s mind, but he stayed focused on Lance, squeezing his hand gently every now and then to remind him he was there. Lance’s face was pale, the pain evident in the way he bit down on his lip, trying not to let it show too much. He’d always been tough, but this was different — this wasn’t a race crash; this was a different kind of hurt.

“Okay, Mr. Stroll, we’re going to take you for some X-rays to see the extent of the damage,” one of the doctors said, his tone professional but kind. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Lance nodded, his eyes flickering to Luca, who smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be right here when you’re done,” Luca promised, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Lance’s forehead. “You’re doing great, caro. Just hang in there.”

Lance managed a small, grateful smile before the doctors wheeled him away, disappearing down the hallway. Luca stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched them go. The calm he’d maintained for Lance’s sake was starting to crack, worry seeping through the edges. But he knew he couldn’t let it take over — not yet.

He found a chair in the waiting area, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady himself. The hospital was busy, the constant hum of activity around him almost soothing in its familiarity. He’d been in places like this before, with racing accidents and close calls, but this felt different. This was Lance, his Lance, and the thought of him in pain, of him being hurt, was almost too much to bear.

Time seemed to drag on as he waited. Every few minutes, he checked his phone, responding to the messages from the academy boys, who were anxiously waiting for updates. They all felt guilty, even though no one could have predicted what had happened. Luca reassured them that Lance was in good hands, that he’d keep them posted as soon as he knew more.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached Luca. “Mr. Marini?” he asked, recognizing him from the emergency room earlier. Luca stood up quickly, his heart leaping into his throat.

“How is he?” Luca asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. “Lance has fractured both of his wrists,” he explained, “but the fractures are clean, and we’re optimistic that with proper treatment and rest, he’ll make a full recovery. We’ve set the bones and put casts on both wrists. He’s going to be sore for a while, and he’ll need some help with day-to-day things, but he’ll be okay.”

Luca let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relief flooding through him. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “He’s just coming out of anesthesia, but you can go in. He’ll be in some pain as he wakes up, but we’ve got him on medication to help manage it.”

Luca nodded, thanking the doctor before heading down the hallway to Lance’s room. When he entered, the sight of Lance lying in the hospital bed, his wrists encased in white casts, brought a fresh wave of emotion. But Luca pushed it down, focusing on the relief that Lance was going to be okay.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open as Luca approached, his gaze a little unfocused from the lingering effects of the anesthesia. When he saw Luca, a small, tired smile tugged at his lips. “Hey,” he croaked, his voice raspy.

“Hey, you,” Luca replied softly, pulling a chair up beside the bed and taking Lance’s hand — the one that wasn’t too sore — in his. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a truck,” Lance admitted, his smile fading as the pain began to register. He shifted slightly, wincing as he moved his wrists. “But the doctor said it’s just a few fractures, right? Nothing too serious?”

“Yeah,” Luca confirmed, squeezing his hand gently. “They’ve set the bones, and with some rest, you’ll be back to your old self in no time. But you’ll need to take it easy for a while. No more trying to show off, okay?”

Lance huffed out a weak laugh. “Yeah, lesson learned,” he muttered, though there was still a hint of self-reproach in his tone. “I’m sorry, Luca. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Don’t apologize,” Luca said firmly, leaning in closer so that Lance could see the sincerity in his eyes. “You did your best, and that’s all that matters. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so worried.”

Lance looked at him for a long moment, the weight of his own fears and guilt slowly easing under Luca’s gentle gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

“Always,” Luca murmured, brushing a soft kiss against Lance’s knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”