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I see the vision

BezSava Addams Family

Bez is Gomez Sava is Morticia

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is rubik Wednesday?

BezSava Addams Family

Bez is Gomez Sava is Morticia

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I think about them so much, so much

The skin tone difference, the frame difference

Franco would've devoured Alex's skin, his hair, his hands.

Kissed the scars, the moles, laughed about the lack of body hair.

Pressed lips to fingertips, then knees.

I once read from ff Franco saying to Alex "you deserve to be kissed sweetly" and like.

yeah.

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dovquez supernatural au with marquez bros as winchesters and dovi as cas send post

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the bezsava fic is done idk what else to say kinda sexual at the beginning but not in detail and vaguely at the end and dick cock is used once each because of course it is

1800 words

A Thought Experiment

If you were to ask them, Bez and Sava would vehemently deny knowing what the other looks like undressed.

And they would both be liars for it.

In fact, both would deny knowing much of anything about the other save for what is common knowledge around the paddock, but if you were to look at the apples of their cheeks, you would see a light pink start to form. One would assume this would be from the nature of the question, and one would be very, very wrong.

If you were to somehow project the minds of both riders, in the moments after asking, onto a screen, you would see rather similar scenes just from different perspectives.

Bezs would be a bit difficult to look at with how blurry the image is—not to mention the limited range of movement he had that night. Even still, you would be able to see the closeup outline of a man with his head thrown back, arm tense where it grips the hair on Bez's head.

On Savas, you would see a head of soft curly brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes filled to the brim with tears not yet fallen, and pink lips stretched thin from the sheer size of the cock between them.

Through both you would hear the sounds of grunting, choked-off moans, and of course vain attempts to not choke. Oh, and the faint sound of people still partying outside the bathroom they were currently in, but as none of them knew this was happening, they aren't important.

So to get back to the main point of this thought exercise, denial. If the only two people to know an event happened deny it did, does that mean the event never happened in the first place? Of course not! Don't be silly. Especially not when both participants regularly find themselves thinking about that night to let off some steam. Definitely not when both participants can't look or interact with each other without thinking about it and hoping to get another taste.

All this to say none of it matters if they only ever interact on the rare occasion and Marco Bezzecchi never joins Aprilia and his teammate doesn't get injured, taking him out for the better part of a season, and Lorenzo Savadori doesn't race in his place...

Well, shit.

So, as it turns out, if you want to avoid interacting with the guy who has been the main subject of your fantasies for nearly three years, maybe just maybe don't join the team he's a reserve rider for, Marco.

Which brings us to now, inside a restaurant packed with mechanics and friends, fortunately, to celebrate the 2025 British Grand Prix and its winner, our very own Marco Bezzecchi. Let's watch this situation unfold.

Lorenzo Savadori sits next to a, rightfully, cheery Marco Bezzecchi with a smile so big you'd think he'd won the race instead of listening to the shorter man ramble about something or another, suppressing every urge to do something stupid like declare his undying love for the man next to him for everyone to hear. Fortunately for Sava, one of the mechanics chooses the second before his breaking point to stand up, raising a glass and declaring, "To our winner, Marco Bezzecchi, and to many more in the future."

Whilst Bez is distracted by all the cheering, Sava decides to do the bravest thing a person could do in that moment and run away to the bathroom to avoid doing something that would stop him from being able to race in Qatar. Once in the bathroom, Sava takes a moment to calm down and splash his face with cold water and not think about Bez's lips and what they looked like wrapped around his—he splashes his face again. 

Sava has known since long before 2022, long before he knew Bez existed, that he was as straight as Bez's hair and has had to deal with the knowledge that he either races or comes out, not both. will probably never get to do both, not publicly at least. So, he did what he had to; he didn't act on his queer thoughts and never spared a man a second glance. Which worked so well, and for so long, until Marco fucking Bezzecchi, the unapologetic, beautiful bastard that he is. Now he hasn't just spared a second or a third glance; he's spared hundreds, if not thousands, of glances. Even now with that mullet, he's the most beautiful thing Lorenzo has ever seen.

After how many bad haircuts does it stop being a crush and start being love? 

At that thought Sava splashes his face for a third time and decides he should probably leave the bathroom and slowly die from embarrassment at every thought he has about his current teammate.

As he sits down, Bez turns to him. "Are you feeling tired? Some of the guys were talking about heading to a club if you wanted to go," and really, who can blame Sava if he needs the question repeated because he was staring at Bez's eyes? Because it's loud, he couldn't hear; because it's loud, not because he wants to see what Bez's eyes look like when he's begging. You have no proof.

If Sava was a smart man, he would've stayed at the hotel that night, maybe had a wank whilst picturing nipple piercings and awful tattoos; alas, he is not, so obviously he went to the restaurant, and of course he agreed to go to the club with Bez and too large of an amount of their colleagues.

Once there, Sava heads straight to the bar to order two drinks, one for himself and one for Bez. As he walks over to the table the others have settled at, he calms himself down and promises himself that he's going to let himself enjoy tonight and not wallow in self-pity over his adoration for the smaller man. 

The night wears on, drinks are downed, stories are shared, dancing is done poorly, and people make sure a steady supply of alcohol is given to the winner, so by the time 2AM has passed, Sava is suitably tipsy and Bez looks on the verge of being blackout drunk. Most people had cleared out of the club by this point, as most people aren't racers and do have work on Mondays, which leaves Bez and Sava in a booth by themselves.

Bez, by no means, is a man afraid to get touchy with other people; in fact, he finds great comfort in hugging and leaning on his friends and has yet to be disappointed by a butt slap or ten from the mechanics. And this moment is no different; despite the ample amount of room, Bez has pressed himself up against Sava to show him a video on his phone.

As the video ends, Bez ducks his head into the other's neck and sighs softly, "I can't stop thinking about it, you know?"

Sava laughs, thinking he was talking about the video on his phone. "I can't blame you; it was a great video. You should send it to me."

"Eh?" Bez pulls away from where he had nestled into Savas's neck with an expression that reminded Sava of a kicked puppy. "Do you not remember? at the club when you came to the ranch three years ago? You seemed to enjoy it, but maybe I wasn't as good as I had hoped."

And it was in that moment so many emotions flew through Savas's body it was like they were having their own grand prix. After a couple seconds and the furrow in Bez's brow deepening, Sava finally responds, "Of course I remember that night; it was perfect—well, not perfect because it was on a bathroom floor, but you were amazing, and if anything, I wasn't good with how long I lasted, but you were amazing, and I've also thought about that night."

The grin that breaks out on Bez's face at that would have onlookers thinking Sava had just solved every problem Bez has ever had and not just told him he remembers the tipsy bathroom head the younger had given him three years ago. The pure unfiltered joy on his face made the embarrassment of admitting everything he just did worth it, "so you want a round two? and three? and many, many more?" the shorter asks now almost on top of the other.

'Did I pass out?' sava thinks not having expected Bez to both remember and be this unrestrained in his pursuit after so many months of subtle glances, light blushing and touching that toes the line between friendly and romantic. 'The things alcohol does to a man' sava's mind supplies before realising hes yet to say anything out loud, "what?" Smooth, Sava. smooth. "well yes i would love to, but you are very drunk right now so let's maybe get you back to the hotel, and we can talk about this when you are a lot more sober."

Bez pouts and the kicked puppy look is back though slightly less strong no less effective for it, "I dont have whiskey dick though?"

"I– you know what? good to know" Sava sighs and resigns himself to having a conversation about consent with Bez at some point. Now, Sava has to try and get the clingier man back to the hotel without injury or getting arrested.

Much to Sava's amazement the walk back to the hotel was rather uneventful save for Bez barely being able to walk by himself. By the time they get back to the hotel Bez is half asleep already and yet still managing to cling to Sava like a buoy.

So after all that and managing to get bez's key card from him he finally gets Bez to a bed and he can go back to his own room and they can get this all cleared up in the morning.

Except Bez has a strong grip and is refusing to let go of Savas arm and when Sava was imagining Bez pleading it wasn't exactly drunkenly pleading for cuddles. "please stay," Bez begs once again managing to look like a puppy with the way he stares up at Sava "I'll behave, I'll be a good boy."

Sava is still not a strong man. He caves. Immediately.

So sava kicks off his shoes and gets into the bed and straight away gets an armful of Bez who is currently just wearing a tshirt and boxers. As Bez finally passes out Sava can't believe this is real and its actually happening.

they will have to have a long and awkward discussion come morning, but it will hopefully be worth it. At the very least, it's a problem for tomorrow.

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THIS IS FINE RIGHT???

1400 words and 39 sentences is fine right?

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1400 words and 39 sentences is fine right?

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the fic is going great :D

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fuck it we ball fuck it we ball fuck it we ball fuck it–

anyway gonna try to write fanfic the first time in my life and it might be porn? who knows i havent written it yet

also if people have tips/tricks for writing please help ive never written fiction outside of a classroom/exam

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reverse age au

Vale: can I sit there?

Marc: thats my lap?

Vale: doesn't change the question, Marc.

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now i know id be good at this cause I just realised im on the aroace spectrum lmaoooo

ughhhh I could be so good at writing porn but I cannot put my ideas into wordsssss instead I gotta yell into the void and hope someone else gets inspired by me ;–;

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ughhhh I could be so good at writing porn but I cannot put my ideas into wordsssss instead I gotta yell into the void and hope someone else gets inspired by me ;–;