#Bezzetti

[marco-bezzecchi]

Cele riding bezz’s bike and calling bezz “Marcolino” 🥹🥹

[hotmessmaxpress]

Cele can’t stop staring at the tattoo. He’s not sure when Bez got it, but now that he knows it’s there it is all he can think about.

They haven’t spent time with each other in weeks, seeing each other only for short moments in between other commitments. Now that they’ve got time together, though, Cele finds he has nothing to say.

Bez talks for the both of them, catching him up on the cult he’s been spending time with, and whipping out his phone to show him some Instagram posts he has saved. Celestino can’t say he cares, but he also doesn’t have to fake enthusiasm. He easily gets excited about things just because Bez is excited.

Still, the tattoo. It’s a distraction from the world around him, and Cele is only vaguely aware of Bez talking.

“When did you get that?” Cele asks, gesturing to where the tattoo has been peeking out from the top of Bez’s shirt.

Bez, who was clearly in the middle of a sentence Cele wasn’t listening to, is thrown for a moment as he tries to figure out what Cele is talking about.

“Oh! The tattoo? Pretty recently. Over the break.”

Cele hums in acknowledgement.

“Why there?”

Bez flushes and gets a wicked smile on his face.

“For hand placement. It’s where your palm goes if you want to-“

The noise Cele makes is humiliating. It stops Bez in his tracks and he begins laughing.

“Here,” he says, still laughing at Cele.

He grabs Cele’s hand and drags it up to his neck, pressing his palm to the number. Cele’s fingers close instinctively, wrapping around Bez’s neck with just a little pressure.

The air is sucked out of the room and suddenly it doesn’t feel like a joke. Bez is still smiling but his pupils have blown wide and dark. They’re both breathing heavily and Cele starts to feel like they’re on the precipice of something.

Bez’s hand drops away from Cele’s hand, leaving it there. Cele doesn’t know how they got to this point so quickly.

He stares at Bez for a long moment, waiting on the other man to break the tension and laugh it off, or shake Cele’s hand away.

He doesn’t.

Cele tightens his hand around Bez’s throat and kisses him.

[formulapookie]

🦂🌊

Don't speak just feel bezzetti, 2.1 k words

smut under the cut

There must be something like 35 degrees in this god forsaken room right now.

The smell of sex and Bez’s cologne is filling up Cele’s nostrils, making him dumb. Well, dumber than he already is.

He's been on edge for what? Two? Three hours maybe? Maybe even more, he  doesn’t fucking know.  The only thing he knows is he needs to cum, needs to have his release or he’s he’s going to go fucking mad.

Bez smells so good, sounds so perfect, everything he does or says get him more and more aroused. 

“You’re so good Celin, so so good, behaving so perfectly for me, only for me yes?”

Cele nods, hes so fucking hard he wants to cry, he needs Bez to make him cum, then he wants to feel the older inside, again, until he can’t even say his name anymore.

His senses are enlightened, multiplied a hundred times, each little movement of Bez’s hand on his cock feels like a hundred degrees more rising in his stomach.

He moans louder when Bez presses into his slit, making his back arch and his eyes water more.

“Don’t lose control Celin, keep being my good boy, and I promise I’m letting you have a nice reward at the end”

Cele nods again, he needs it.

Needs to cum as much as he needs to breathe, maybe even more than that.

He feels Bez’s lips on his neck, so fucking hot, he leaves a bruise there, Cele bets he’s full of them by now, that sensation is the only thing keeping him from detaching from reality.

“Celin, are you still with me?”

Cele nods again, moaning at Bez’s movement, his thigh twitches under Bez’s attention, and the older uses that weakness to place a hand there, his stupid long and hot hand keeping him still.

“Don’t. Move.”

Cele wants to beg, needs Bez to fucking act on his delayed orgasm now, because he wants to cum. 

“Wish I could see your eyes now amore, crying from this, so full with need I would give you everything you ask for”

Cele makes a muffled sound, he wants that too, wants it so much it hurts.

He can’t touch, see or speak, he can just hear, smell and feel.

In all honesty this situation is his fault, he decided to get Bez jealous, he was the one who basically flirted with the barista, he went and glued himself to Pecco touching and giggling at his muscles.

It’s only fair Bez chose this as a punishment for his actions.

He moves his fingers, well at least he can move them, the bloodstream hasn’t been stopped completely by the pretty red ropes tying his arms together behind his back.

The ropes feel hot against his skin, he’s sure he’ll have marks from them as soon as he gets them off.

He’s sat kneeling on the bed, his abs are tight, tensed up, he knows Bez must be liking the view.

He wishes he could see it, but the blindfold is too fucking thick in front of his eyes, he can’t even see a little bit of light through it.

Bez has been touching him for forever now, after fucking him and filling him up, he can feel his boyfriend’s release still inside him, a unholy squelching sound every time he moves slightly.

Bez kisses the corner of his mouth, still never stopping his strokes.

“You want to cum I bet”

Cele nods once again, he can’t even fucking talk with that fucking gag ball he’s got, he’s just drooling around it, getting it wet and shiny.

“Like your dick when I tease too much” Bez had said at the view.

“I don’t think you deserve it yet now do you? I’m really really upset by the little stunt you pulled today, you know”

Bez stops his movements, Cele presses his legs together for a bit of friction but bets slapped on his thigh.

“No no bimbo, you can’t do anything, do I have to tie your pretty thighs too?”

No no no no he might just die if this shit happens now.

He shakes his head, he just wants his release, wants to beg for it.

“If I take off the blindfold will you behave?”

Cele nods, he’s been doing that an awful amount of times now, he needs to look at Bez in the eyes, maybe he’ll take pity, maybe he’ll let him cum.

Or maybe he will just look at him and make him needier without actually giving him anything.

Both options are really attractive.

“Ok then, I’m taking it off, you deserve it”

Bez’s fingers dance around the string tying the blindfold for as much as two seconds before pulling it and letting the fabric fall, finally letting Cele see a bit of the room around him.

It’s night, but there’s a soft light from the bedside table and the moon shining through the window so he can actually see Bez’s expression, even if it gets him a bit to gain back his sight.

“Oh Cele now you can look at yourself, so pretty for me” Bez takes his chin between his fingers and turns him to face the mirror.

He can’t lie, he’s hot like that.

Black hair disheveled and messy, dry tears at the corner of his eyes, drooling around the gag ball and his dick hard in Bez’s hand.

“You’re so beautiful bimbo, I would’ve let you cum hours ago if you didn’t act like a slut at the party, you know that right? But I think now you’ve earned it”

Cele tries to get out a “please” but with the gag ball on it only comes out a muffled sound, making Bez smirk.

“Let’s do this, since you behaved so good when I took off the blindfold you can cum twice, ok?”

Cele can’t even nod this time because Bez gets his hand around his dick again and strokes.

“I’d say the first just with my hand and the second one while I fuck you”

It’s not even a question, Bez knows Cele will like it, knows he wants it bad.

The older shifts to be directly behind him, he can feel the hard on pressing on his back, Bez’s lust filled eyes staring at his figure in the mirror.

He starts kissing at his collarbone, Cele forced to look at himself as he crumbles under Bez’s touch.

His boyfriend resumes his movements around his dick, slow, calculated ones, each dragging him closer to an orgasm he’s been chasing for way too long.

He can see that damn “12” tattooed on Bez’s ring finger, and seeing it wrapped around his cock makes him feel owned.

“If you look away I’m stopping bimbo, so if I were you I’d look at myself”

It’s filthy, but so good, degrading in a way that gets Cele hot under his skin. He moans again when Bez passes a thumb on its head, shivers all over his body.

The older sucks a hickey on his neck as his strokes quicken, his hand working faster and faster to get him off.

“Be good bimbo, cum for me, cum all over my fist”

Something that sounds vaguely like “Marco” comes out Cele’s mouth before he arches his back and finally comes, hot white liquid flowing out his dick like a fountain, he’s never came this hard before, he’s rolled his eyes back, he can feel electricity in each of his limbs, his brain is completely empty, just pure pleasure filling every inch of his body.

“Fuck I didn’t think you could cum that hard look at you, you’re still leaking eh, look how much you had in you”

Bez hasn’t stopped smirking since he took off Cele's blindfold, probably he’s been doing that since before even.

Bez’s fingers are completely coated with cum, white and glistening, and he’s already thought of a way not to waste it.

“Gonna fuck you now yes? You behaved well but I'm still angry by your little act from before, so you’re gonna keep that little toy in your mouth mh? So you are not so loud when I fuck you stupid”

Cele begs with his eyes, to please please please let him free to speak and scream his name.

“I love that you think looking at me like that will get me nice Celin, but it won’t work tonight, you actually have to face the consequences of your actions, so maybe next time you will think twice before acting like that”

Bez puts a hand on his back, he’s fucking hard again, he wants to cry.

“Spread your knees, good like that”

Cele barely manages to follow the order Bez is pushing two cum-coated fingers inside, spreading him way more than necessary, this is just a way to remind Cele he has no power in this, every ultimate decision is up to his boyfriend.

“You’re gonna take me so well aren’t you? Would you take the others too like this? The barista maybe?” Cele shakes his head, Bez adds a third finger and finds his prostate, but Cele knows he can’t cum until he’s been fucked and Bez gave his permission. “Or Pecco? You seemed so interested in his arms today, you were clinging to him, if you needed attention so bad you could’ve just begged me to fuck you like very other time, instead you had to act like that and now look, you’re being punished”

Cele’s entire body shivers, he wants to get fucked so hard he can’t think anymore, not even about the gag still in his mouth.

He moans again and looks up meeting Bez’s gaze in the mirror.

“You want to see how beautiful you look when I fuck you? I’ll show you”

Bez gets a hand tangled in cele’s hair, tugging at them slightly and making sure he has to look in the mirror.

He aligns his dick with the younger’s hole, which by now is all pink and spent.

“Perfect” he whispers before pushing inside, burying himself deep already at the first thrust, leaving no time for Cele to focus that he’s already pounding him in the mattress, holding his head up by his hair and using his other hand to squeeze his ass.

Bez is nice, usually. Romantic, caring, sweet, considerate. But right now he’s fucking him like he hates him, and God it’s hot.

Cele can’t look away, he watches himself get pathetically more and more aroused for Bez, absolutely wrecking him, his pace fast and deep, almost dirty, like it’s something to be done in a great rush and secrecy.

“You look good like this, you know? Crying and moaning under me. Might have you do it more often amore”

Cele is so fucking sensitive, at everything. Words, touch, thrusts, sounds.

So when Bez groans directly beside his ear it’s really not his fault if he almost comes, and it’s really not his fault when he gets on the edge again once his boyfriend calls him beautiful again.

Once Bez starts kissing at the nape of his neck he feels like he could never ask for something better in his life.

He’s being fucked senseless, yeah, seeing stars at every thrust, but the kisses are tender, loving, possessive in a sweet way.

Cele thinks about Bez’s tattooed finger curled around his neck, branding him like a property, and he’s on the verge again.

When Bez starts losing the rhythm Cele finally knows he’ll cum soon, Bez likes filling him up when he just had his release, because he’s oversensitive and clenches around him in a way that makes the older go crazy for it.

“Fuck I love you Celin I love you”

It doesn’t take long from there, just a few more thrusts, and then Cele is coming again, just as much as the first time, untouched, moaning around the gag in the desperate hope Bez will actually pity him and take it off.

Luckily, orgasms get Bez vulnerable at his pleas, and he immediately removes the toy and lets it fall on the bed, letting go of cele’s hair and turning the younger’s head slightly just to manage to kiss him deeply, moaning in his mouth when he finally cums inside the boy.

For five minutes after that, neither speaks, they just calm their breaths down, Bez unties Cele’s wrists and arms are sore, reddish, itchy even.

Bez kisses all over his neck to say sorry if he’s been harsh, cele answering he was, but he liked that too, so there’s really no need to worry.

“You really looked hot with that thing, only downside I couldn’t kiss you” “Yeah, true” “Can we kiss now?” “Yeah of course amore” “You owe me all the kisses you didn’t give me while fucking me” “oh it’s a lot eh, I warn you” “I love your kisses. I don't care how many you give me, I just need them”

Bez smiles, pressing a chaste kiss on Cele’s lips then letting him get overwhelmed by the insane amount of kisses he deemed fit for that moment.

“Love you”

[v3lnys]

my love, come back to me

Marco Bezzecchi/Celestino Vietti – 1.4k words

note: not very proud of this, but i wanted to write something not as detailed as i usually do :)

Bezz thinks it's a little hard to understand Cele sometimes. He thinks he should be good at it by now, growing up together and dating for a few years, but Cele can still be so enigmatic, a little closed off. It's not hard to guess the facile emotion he may be feeling, especially when Cele is sulking, it shows up fairly easily. But it's hard to get inside his brain, understand what caused it or how it really makes Cele feel, hard to understand what he's thinking, how he's dealing with it.

None of the guys really suspected anything, not even Bezz, not until Cele started drifting away, fading out of the picture by choice. They were a little too preoccupied with their own shit during the season, trying to make time for each other, but ultimately a little lost in their own stuff.

Bezz would check in, taking the feeble responses and excuses without much thought when he should've dug deeper. Cele always relents if he's persistent enough. And it's not like Cele was dying, or planning to, but he was almost withering away by the time Bezz grew concerned enough to pry. Bezz had every right to pry, that kind of came with the ordeal of a relationship and caring about someone, but Cele was more independent and Bezz was trying his best to respect it. In the end, he felt like maybe he respected it too much, it probably wouldn’t have gotten so bad with more insistent check-ins.

It wasn't until Bezz's routine started feeling void of the Cele shaped presence that he took a more physical approach than just texting and calls or facetime while Bezz cooked for himself and Rubik. One day Bezz just showed up at Cele's place, concerned with the slight reluctance he was met with when he brought up the proposal to come over.

Cele was never particularly tidy with his spaces, liked to keep them 'lived in', but this was just. Different. Dirty clothes on the floor, unmade bed, days old dishes waiting to be washed in the sink. Cele didn't look his best either. Paler than normal, curls wild and grown out, unshaved beard. It made Bezz's heart break, something in his chest tightening at the thought of Cele – his Cele – suffering in silence as they all went about their lives, taking his lackluster excuses at face value.

Bezz wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Not when Cele was fidgeting around like he should've even felt guilty about anything. He helped clean the place up, took the medication off Cele's nightstand with shaky hands. Bezz couldn't even read it properly, thought he really might cry if he read what it really was. But the bottles and weird names were telling enough, Bezz was somewhat familiar with it all. They prescribed him all kinds of different shit when he was having a hard time getting his head in order earlier in the season.

They showered together, Cele practically melting against Bezz's chest the whole time. It must've been so relieving, finally getting to bask in the physical contact, the closeness, the care. Bezz sat him down on the bathroom counter after, gently held Cele's face as he shaved his scruffy beard. It immediately made Cele look younger, a little more alive and Bezz could already see the life coming back to Cele's face, eyes. It was nice. Getting to take care of him, even if he should've done it sooner.

With the blinds wide open, the fall brightness filtering into Cele's apartment, everything was coming back to life. Bezz's boy was coming back to life. Coming back to him.

Cele wasn't that good with opening up about his feelings, clearly, but they talked about it, kind of. Cele was a little more lively after they ate, ordering take out because the kitchen pretty much only housed redbulls and ingredients that Bezz wasn't qualified enough to craft into a meal. They migrated to Cele's bed after, fresh sheets and all, Cele's head pillowed on Bezz's chest, talking quietly about it all, Bezz finally deciding to push a little. He wanted to understand.

A few weeks passed. The guys were clearly happy to have Cele around again, checked in more, Bezz could see that Cele liked it even if he didn't let on. He fucked his collarbone at the last race, Bezz made sure he was there to take care of him. They barely spent time apart, but it was good.

The season's over and they're pretty much glued together, apart from the occasion plans that Bezz's friends make and invite him along, Cele has his own stuff too. But they wake up together and they fall asleep together, they take Rubik out for walks. They meet up with the guys and it's good, it's normal again.

Cele is half on top of Bezz again, one arm around his waist, cheek squished against Bezz's pec. It's pretty fucking cold in Cele's apartment so it feels cozy to be like this, all tangled together like they're one creature. Bezz plays with the curly strands of Cele's dark hair, he thinks he really likes the length. Long, but not too wild. Cele doesn't have to wear the sling anymore, still, his doctor told him not to put too much stress on the injury. Bezz doesn't think Cele will listen to the doctors though.

They've been in this position for ages, talking and just. Enjoying each other. Rubik is sleeping in his fluffy dog bed and Bezz loves this, it feels so perfect and domestic that he could cry.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asks when they've been silent for a while.

"Yeah. Okay," Cele mutters an answer, but doesn't make any move to get up for a while, not until Bezz starts untangling their legs.

He's wearing Bezz's hoodie, soft and clearly loved, big on Cele just like it is on Bezz and everything about it just compels Bezz to draw him closer, kissing him easily, softly.

They go outside and it's cold, a little windy, already dark outside even though it's not even that late. Cele's wearing a light blue puffer jacket, celeste. It matches Bezz's, although his is camo print. They hold hands as they make their way through the quiet street, talking about whatever. Bezz doesn't remember the last time life felt so right.

The skatepark is empty even though it's not that cold yet. Bezz tugs Cele towards the tallest ramp, runs up and sits on the edge, waits for Cele to do the same. Cele tries, but doesn't gather enough momentum, slides back down and he laughs, bright and easy. It's so fucking nice. Hearing Cele laugh like this. The next time he succeeds, sits down beside Bezz and they're both smiling at each other, leaning towards each other for a kiss.

Bezz reaches into his pocket, there's a brand new pack of cigarettes, still in the plastic wrapping and all, that he bought this morning, intending to share with Cele. It's unhealthy, but it's almost like a treat now, not like a good few weeks ago when he was chainsmoking during the early stages of the whole recovery thing for Cele. It was hard. It's better now, so much better. They only smoke together, it’s easier to lose the habit that way.

His lighter has a little scorpion sticker on one side, a wave sticker on the other. Cele holds his cigarettes between his index and middle fingers, palm open – Bezz read somewhere that it must mean Cele's a dreamer. He thought that was fairly accurate. Bezz holds his cigarettes like they're a joint or something, Cele teases him for it. They hold hands, fingers intertwined and resting on Bezz's thigh.

The ashes fall down the ramp, the skaters will be fine, the wind will scatter them. When they slide down, they stand there for a moment and Cele starts rubbing his hands together, always running colder than Bezz. He takes Cele's hands and blows warm air on them, can smell the lingering smoke on their hands and it's kind of lovely, he finds that he likes the smell.

It's properly dark outside when they get back to Cele's apartment. Bezz puts on a shitty TV drama and they settle on the couch, Cele curling up against his side again like it's his natural position. Maybe it is because Bezz likes holding Cele, sharing kisses whenever he turns his head. Rubik is a warm, solid weight on the other side of Bezz. Cele plays with the frayed strings of Bezz's hoodie, something for his nervous hands to busy themselves with.

Life is good and Bezz really loves Cele. He loves him so much that he could never put it into words. But it's okay, they have some weird silent connection, Cele understands him and Bezz is starting to crack the deeper codes that reside in Cele's subconsciousness.

[bezzplaining]

source: delusion

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

hello! for the kink prompts, how about 11 & 27? pairing is up to you :)

bezzetti: 11 (dacryphilia) + 27 (feminization)

It hits Celestino like a knife to the guts—Marco’s snotty, heaving breaths, and the tears running black down his cheeks. He thinks pretty, then tries to drop that thought like he touched something hot. The burn lingers, though, aching and perverse.

“Bez?” He grits out. “Marco? Marco? Marco, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

Marco shakes his head, puts a hand over his Celestino’s. Pecco and Carola had done his nails like the tricolore, which was fun four hours ago, and now it isn’t, because Celestino wants to suck on his fingers and doesn’t know how to ask for it other than with a low, wordless groan.

Also, he’s still crying, mascara streaming over his face, lashes thick and clumpy. It’s—Celestino needs to stop looking. Stop thinking about—

“It’s fine, Celin. Good tears, I promise.”

He doesn’t really believe that, because Marco was sort of teary before, when he apologized for ruining his birthday—which was stupid. Celestino ruined his own birthday.

But also, Marco feels big inside him, and he has his thumb right over where Celestino is open and sloppy around his dick. He hadn’t told him—but maybe he should’ve. It’s a lot more than two fingers. Or three, especially when he fucks in. Hurts, in a white-hot, way, way, way too good pain, but it’s still pain.

“Alright,” he manages to say. “Is it about the club?”

Marco’s mouth—red, red, painted red—pulls, so yes. “You were very nice there.”

Celestino wasn’t, not really. Just was annoying right on a guy’s face until he almost got punched, and they were both thrown out for making trouble, Marco right behind, heels clicking against the sidewalk.

He plans on saying it, but Marco picks that moment to pull out to the tip of his cock and fuck back in again. Air rushes out of him, and also a frankly embarrassing noise, gutted, like he swallowed his own tongue. It’s the high of Celestino’s life, and he can’t even see it happen, not through the flappy hem of Marco’s skirt that he didn’t take off.

He topples forward, pins Celestino against the bed. Another keen slips out, and he doesn’t have it in himself to hope it hadn’t. Marco makes this reedy noise back at him—he’s stopped crying, mostly, but keeps sniffling, his face blotchy. When he catches Celestino’s looking, he tries burying it on the crook of his neck.

The impulse tears through him like an electric shock. Mean, too. Celestino wraps his fingers on the hair growing on the base of Marco’s neck and pulls. His eyes glisten, and his lips fall open, slack.

It’s a good birthday. An amazing birthday. He’d been hitting up clubs before anyway, with a fake ID that Luca had made for him.

This is nicer.

“Shit, Marco, look at you, you’re so beautiful,” Celestino babbles out, hysterical, light-headed, his fist tight on those curls. It knocks his teeth to the side—bellissima.

And Marco wails when he comes inside him.

[anitalianfrie]

bez and cele <3

[marco-bezzecchi]

The way these two love each other 🥹

Also cele not using his 🌊🌊 wave emoji in his instagram post so bezz does it for him 🌊

[motoyaoi]

going into the new year still loving motorcycle rpf. god bless

[markotheartshark]

bez being found out by cele 🫣🫣🫣

[formulapookie]

i love doing these

i think bez and cele should soundproof their room like rosquez

[v3lnys]

my take is that franky and mig have a civil union, cele is their witness/adopted son and bezz is cele's silly bf that frankymig are fond of

[bezzplaining]

Protecting his bf 😾

[nooripoori]

bezz watched cele and decided to unflop aswell

[anitalianfrie]

Shitty footage to support my claims

[marco-bezzecchi]

I love how every time the vr46 academy posts another one of their vlogs it basically turns into a day in the life of gay racing husbands marco bezzecchi and celestino vietti