#pecco/luca

[star-s-631]

Through the years. (Pecco and Luca for anon!)

Pecco and his beautiful (boy)friend!! I need to draw them more coz they’re so cute together

[bezzplaining]

he's a simp in all the universes

[lagunaseca2013]

how does pecco tell his parents that he's pregnant in the teen pregnancy au? how awkward is the eventual valentino safe sex talk for both luca and pecco? Do they eventually have another kid way later in life luca unintentionally having kids that have the same age gap as him and valentino?

hi anon! this ask honestly got me to open a google doc for this thing which is more than I can say for half the wips I’ve talked about here lmao. as always things kind of got away from me so I hope I’ve answered your questions but tbh I feverishly wrote half of this in the actual tumblr app bc I was so inspired so. apologies if it’s not that good! but cheers <3

—

“Pecco?” Carola picks up on the fourth ring of his ninth attempted call. She sounds groggy and confused, like she’s just woken up, probably because— “It’s four AM,” she groans, “you just woke me up. What’s wrong?”

Pecco swallows against the lump in his throat, the words getting stuck in his mouth. He can’t think of a single thing to say, though he’d spent the entire five-hour drive to Turin agonizing about it. In his defense, he couldn’t really do his best thinking when he kept having to pull over to throw up. Most of the time he wasn’t dry heaving on the side of the road, he’d spent going 200kph and trying not to have a panic attack.

He’s breathing heavily, trying desperately not to burst into tears again. Pecco knows if he’s silent for much longer, Carola will either hang up or call the firing squad, the best big sister ever, even if his skin is crawling, just thinking about facing her right now. In his. . . .state.

“I’m outside,” he croaks, finally, his voice sore from disuse and crying and, god, so much throwing up. “But I forgot to bring my keys.”

Carola is silent for a moment, but he can hear her taking slow, steady breaths through the crackle of the line. “Stay there, I have to turn off the alarm for the gate.”

—

His mama nearly has an aneurysm when he slinks down the stairs, late in the morning. He’d slept tucked into the corner between Carola’s bed and the wall like he hadn’t since—well, probably before he moved to Pesaro. Or hit puberty, whichever came first. After his sister had tugged the explanation out of him, she’d refused to let him go to sleep alone. They'd huddled together under her soft floral sheets and she’d pressed a curious hand to the slight swell of his belly that he couldn’t even really look at without getting nauseous, an expression of wonder on her face that he hadn’t yet encountered from anyone who knew about the—

“Francesco!” His mama interrupts his downward spiral, pressing two warm hands against his cheeks. “Is that Valentino not feeding you properly? You have to come sit down and eat, eat piccolo! You’ve gotten too thin!”

For once, his stomach doesn’t rebel at the plate of brioche, and his mom happily flits around the kitchen tidying up in the way she does when she’s trying to figure out how to approach a conversation. She frowns when he pushes away the espresso she’d left for him, and asks for warm milk, but carefully hasn’t asked him what the hell he’s doing here, why he hadn’t told them he was coming home. Why he’d shown up in the middle of the night and couldn’t bring himself to face her. Since he was little, Pecco has always been. . . .different, when it came to emotional matters, and his mama had learned long ago to let him come to her when he was ready.

Pecco doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready for the conversation they’re about to have. In fact, he barely gets down half a slice of bread before he’s running to the bathroom, hacking it all back up, the thing inside him rejecting it all anyway. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until his mama pulls him in, rubbing soothing circles into his back and reaching up to brush tears off his cheek. “Oh, bambino,” she sighs, heavy with concern. “What’s going on?”

—

He’d insisted on waiting for his papa and Carola to return, mostly because he was pretty sure he was only going to be able to handle the conversation once, and he really needed his sister’s support to even attempt it. His mama had fussed over him for the rest of the day, forcing him back into bed with bowls of broth he’d thankfully been able to keep down. She’d even taken his temperature, humming thoughtfully when it was perfectly normal, though Pecco thought, uncomfortably, that they both sort-of knew he wasn’t that kind of sick.

Unfortunately, crushing Carola’s hands like a lifeline and staring back at his deeply concerned parents, it feels even worse than he’d imagined.

His papa is the first to break the silence. “Francesco,” he says, slowly, like he’s afraid Pecco might bolt if he’s too loud. “What’s wrong, piccolo?”

Pecco swallows hard, his fingers trembling where they grip Carola’s. He feels like a child again, sitting at this very table, confessing to crashing his scooter into the neighbor’s mailbox when he was fifteen. But this is so, so much worse.

“I—” He chokes on the word, his throat tight. His mama’s face is open, patient but worried, while his papa frowns, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Carola wriggles one of her hands out of his deathgrip to pet the curls at his nape reassuringly.

“I’m pregnant,” he finally blurts out.

They all freeze for a moment, pure disbelief. His mama’s breath catches audibly, her eyes widening in shock. His papa blinks at him like he’s misheard.

The silence stretches unbearably. Pecco’s heart is hammering so hard he thinks he might actually pass out. There's a high possibility he's going to throw up again.

“Scusa?” His papa’s voice is strangled.

Pecco licks his lips, his mouth dry. “I’m pregnant.” His voice wavers slightly, but the words come out clearer this time. “I found out a few weeks ago.”

His mama makes a soft noise, pressing a hand to her mouth, her eyes shining with something unreadable. “Oh, Francesco. . . .”

His papa, on the other hand, looks confused and concerned. “But—how? That’s not possible, that’s not—you were tested, at birth, they said—you were not. . . .” He gestures vaguely, like he’s searching for an explanation in the air.

Pecco shrugs weakly. “Turns out I am.”

Silence again, Pecco's shoulders are tensed up nearly to his ears. Carola's free hand grips the back of his neck firmly, like she thinks he'll try to make a run for it.

Then, suddenly, his mama’s chair scrapes against the floor as she stands. For a split second, Pecco braces himself for yelling, but instead she kneels down, pulling him into her arms. “Oh, bambino mio,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. “You must have been so scared.”

As soon as she says it, Pecco finally shatters. He crumples into her, sobs tearing from his chest, months of anxiety and fear draining out of him all at once. His mama holds him tightly, rubbing soothing circles against his back, whispering soft reassurances into his hair.

Carola reaches over, rubbing his shoulder, and even his papa, still looking completely out of his depth, awkwardly places a hand on his back.

“It’s going to be okay bambino,” his mama says firmly, pulling back just enough to cup his face. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Pecco sniffles, his breath hitching. He’s exhausted, terrified, still fucking nauseous, but for the first time in weeks the knot in his chest loosens, just a little.

—

It’s terribly hard to focus on what Valentino is saying when Luca looks this good, Pecco realizes with dawning horror, the third time he zones out of the lecture, staring at Luca’s hands. His long fingers are folded neatly in his lap, the perfect picture of proper and respectful, if Pecco couldn't see that he was still sporting a semi under the table.

In their defense, Valentino had walked into the apartment unannounced in the syrupy hour after lunch, but before Pecco’s third daily nap, when he had the best chance of seducing Luca into messing around on the couch. He’d then decided, seven and a half months into the unplanned pregnancy, that catching his brother with his hand up Pecco’s stretched out tshirt was cause for the safe sex talk he’d been “meaning to get around to” for the last five years.

Valentino, completely oblivious—or maybe just choosing to ignore the heavy tension radiating between them—leans forward, elbows on his knees, and clasps his hands together like he’s about to deliver the most important race strategy briefing of his entire life. Pecco wonders, idly, if this is what he looks like when Uccio shows him “telemetry” on his iPad.

“Look, I get it,” he says, nodding sagely. “You’re young, you’re in love, you’re horny—”

Pecco makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Luca chokes on his own spit.

Valentino waves them off and keeps going. “But you clearly haven’t been careful enough, considering. . . .” he gestures vaguely at Pecco’s belly, which is currently both peeking humiliatingly out the bottom of his tshirt and pressing up against the edge of the table.

Pecco glares. He knows he's gotten huge recently, and he's been feeling particularly sensitive about it. “Wow, grazie, Vale. Really, I hadn't noticed.”

Luca, to his credit, looks genuinely sheepish. “It’s not like we didn’t try to be careful,” he mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck. “We didn't know Pecco was a carrier.” Pecco feels his face heat up at the reminder.

Valentino levels them both with a sharp look. “Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Even if Pecco hadn't been a carrier, it is still the safest to use a condom!”

Luca groans, tipping his head back against the couch. “Mio Dio, if this is your way of giving us the condom talk, you’re about seven months too late.”

Valentino ignores him, finally in the rhythm of his tirade. It's an interesting look on him, considering it's usually Uccio who attempts any kind of lecturing about the behavior of the Academy. “You know, there are many ways to be safe. Barriers, timing, communication—”

Pecco shoots Luca a sidelong glance. Luca, who is still, inexplicably, half-hard in his boxers. Luca, who just an hour ago had been shoving his tongue down Pecco's throat against the couch cushions, murmuring things that had absolutely not been about barriers or communication. Things much more aligned with how they'd ended up here in the first place.

Pecco swallows hard. This is kind of his second worst-nightmare, just below getting knocked up mid-season on the list. He hasn't even let himself think about how Valentino said they were, jesus, in love, and neither of them even protested it. Pecco has been in love with Luca for as long as he can remember, but he's always known Luca just saw him as a friend. Luca, of course, is just having sex with him out of convenience.

Meanwhile, Valentino is on a roll. “And don’t think that just because you’re already—” another vague hand-waving gesture at Pecco’s belly. It's kind of amazing that they're this far along, and he's in his thirties, and can't bring himself to say it. “—That you shouldn’t still be careful. Pregnancy hormones can make you want to go at it like rabbits, but you need to be mindful of—”

Pecco shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and his gigantic belly jostles the table enough to knock over the sad vase of dead flowers he'd gotten Luca for Father's Day. He's spent approximately ten minutes in one position, so his back aches enough to make him want to scream. “I am not listening to this anymore.”

Valentino raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You think I wanted to be here?” He throws his hands up dramatically. “You think I enjoy this? But I’m responsible for both of you!”

“Vale,” Luca interrupts, desperate. “We get it. Be careful, use protection, don’t fuck up again. Lesson learned. Can we please never talk about this again?”

He squints at them for a long moment, weighing his options, then sighs, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But if I find out you’ve been reckless again,” he points an accusatory finger between them.

Luca glares. “What, you’ll ground us?” He gestures at Pecco's belly. “Bit late for that.”

Valentino pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am just trying to make sure you know how to have safe sex,” he sighs. “I don't want either of you to have to sacrifice more than you already have because of another—” he stops himself, just in time, but Pecco knows he was going to say, what he was going to call their baby. A mistake. He sees it reflected back in his eyes, in everyone’s eyes, lately. His skin crawls every time he visits the ranch, seeing Mig and Franky’s looks of pity. Nicolo’s barely-hidden derision. Bez hasn’t been able to look him in the eyes since he started showing for real, months ago.

The second Valentino finally leaves, after he gives them the dish of food from Stefania that he had come to deliver in the first place, an excruciating round of hugs, and a parting shot about prenatal vitamins, somehow managing to keep his set of keys in the rush to kick him out—Pecco lets his head thunk onto Luca's shoulder with a dramatic groan.

“I will never forgive you for giving him a key. We aren't having sex again until you get it back from him!”

Luca snorts, reaching over to place a warm palm over the silver of belly not covered by the tshirt. “You say that now, tesoro.”

Pecco lifts his head up, raising an eyebrow.

Luca smirks. “Where were we?”

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

CHEV my excitement at u reblogging that prompt list…… immeasurable…. may i please suggest 22 and/or 45 with whoever you’d like <3

pecco/luca: 22 (truth or dare/party games) + 45 (realization of feelings at the Worst Possible Moment)

“My turn!” A black-haired girl giggles, sort of slurring, and spins the bottle.

Pecco tries not to fidget. He can’t, really; is pressed against Luca on the far end of a couch, his skinny elbow jammed against his ribs. They’ve been sitting like this since the game started, and Pecco feels like a dog with a shock collar. Luca would notice if he moved too much; think that maybe he wanted to—

The bottle wobbles dangerously. His canine digs into the side of his cheek, a fine pinprick of pain that he can focus on rather the cool brush of Luca’s knuckles on his wrist when he reaches for his vodka soda.

It stops.

On Luca.

The girl giggles again and clambers on his lap. Pecco’s close enough to smell her perfume—sweet and dizzying, suckerpunch thick in the air. Close enough to hear Luca’s breathless, strained chuckle.

His hands come up, very pale against her tanned thighs. “Hi, Clara.”

Pecco drags his eyes from them—looking might just burn him, or at least, he thinks it might, his head heavy, something rotten and acidic burning in his throat. Easier to stare studiously at the wine stain on the white, white, white wall. He can’t be looking at them too much, or it’s going to be weird.

He’s pretty sure it’s already weird. His skin prickles, three sizes too small.

“Hi, Luca,” she says breathlessly, sloppily, almost against Luca’s small mouth. Pecco himself downs what’s left in his cup, feels it crumple in his grip. “Congrats on your—on your podium? Anyway, congrats.”

“Thanks, I—”

The girl—Clara—grabs him the chin and drags Luca for a kiss. Pecco is watching again, his palm cold, clammy, pressed against his knees. There’s a round of cheers, of laughter, but Luca seems happy to flip them off, to laugh against her lips.

It’s—fine. Of course it doesn’t bother him to kiss some girl in front of an audience. They are his Pesaro friends, who Valentino told him introduce Pecco and Balda to now that they’ve officially moved there. Said that it should be good to know people in the city, a bit too much like Pecco’s mother.

They lost Balda half an hour ago. It hadn’t felt like a problem, until then.

Clara climbs off Luca’s lap, her eyes huge and shiny. She’s left a thin, glittery smear around his smiling mouth.

He leans back on the couch, smug, a long, lean line of contentment. Christ, Pecco thinks, red-hot, and something tugs inside him, a fishhook tangled in his guts. He wants—

Pecco freezes, shrinks into himself. He doesn’t. He swears he doesn’t.

It barely takes five minutes for Luca to turn his head to the side, breath brushing against the shell of his ear. Pecco wants to die, sort of. There are two girls arguing—if the guys don’t need to kiss, they shouldn’t, either.

“Do you want to go looking for Balda?”

“Yes,” he hears himself say, pathetically thankful.

[verdemint]

blushing princess bride-to-be pecco in his white dress being carried to the altar by knight bez to prince luca

But oh! who is pecco gonna choose? The loyal knight bez? The cold and distant prince luca? How can pecco choose in this situation?

and then get ready for the trashiest erotica/romance novel of ur life

[formulapookie]

2+8 pecco/luca :)

2 (branding) + 8 (breeding)

Ok so actually it’s not even his fault, Luca simply looks divine tonight, dressed all smart and perfect and with his hair perfectly in place.

It’s totally normal that Pecco wants to ruin him and make him scream his name. Totally.

And what’s even more normal now that he thinks of it is wanting to leave marks everywhere, on his neck most of all, his neck and his chest for sure, because fuck he’s too hot and people apparently like to stare a bit too much.

That guy, Vale’s friend, especially, he hasn’t fucking taken his eyes off Luca for one second, and he’s been standing awfully close to him for a while now.

Luca is completely unaware of the flirting it would seem, and Pecco is sure of that because he spent something like one year constantly trying to hit on his boyfriend and they only got together because Pecco got the courage to kiss him at Luca’s birthday party, and the older had been so surprised he thought it was a joke, and Pecco almost hit his head against a wall, Luca kept saying “I never thought you were flirting, I thought you were just being nice”.

But that guy knows damn well what he’s doing, placing his hand on the small of Luca’s back, making jokes, laughing at every stupid thing Luca says, complimenting his outfit on top of that.

He’d want to drag Luca to one of the many rooms the Ranch offers, but he obviously can’t, it’s Vale’s 46th birthday party and they really can’t leave just to fuck, or ask Vale for a room, and they can’t simply go to some room, because they’ve all been locked to avoid exactly this. Plus Vale doesn’t have a clue the two of them are dating. 

Only Bez and Cele know, they may or may have not walked in on Pecco getting fucked against a wall a few months back, and since then he hasn’t fucking heard the end of it.

“Scared you’ll lose your boyfriend Franci?” “Shut up Bez I’m not scared” “Jealous then? That guy would eat Luca alive if he could” “i’m gonna punch you” “Nah you won’t you love me” “Go bother your boyfriend instead” “I would but he’s in the bathroom trying to calm down and stop his legs from shaking so much, it’s not like he can walk back in here looking clearly fresh fucked no?” “You are disgusting, there’s people here, it’s Vale’s party” “Yeah, that’s why it’s funnier”

Cele walks back in that moment, his hair a bit messy and the shirt wrinkled, but at least he’s not shaking, and Bez immediately goes to him and helps him sit at a table, whispering something in his ear.

Pecco feels a hand on his shoulder and he immediately knows it’s Luca, who’s holding a flute of prosecco in hand, looking at the people rather than him directly.

“Want to know what I stole from Uccio?” “Cocaine?” “Oh come on you know I’d never try that shit, no no, something more…useful for us” “Tell me” “The keys to my room”

Pecco goes still, looking around to make sure no one heard him, and once he makes sure of that he lets out a breath, fidgeting with the bracelet Luca gifted him on his birthday.

“So you want to…like, go?” “Well of course Pecchino, you think I planned to stay here all night acting put together at my brother’s party and not touch you?” “Kinda?” “Mh you clearly still don’t know me too well then”

Pecco is about to reply, but Luca grabs him by the wrist and starts walking out the party area, avoiding anyone who might look at them suspiciously. Luckily for them the majority of the guests are already wasted or drunk, so no one notices them fleeing.

They aren’t even yet to Luca’s room that Pecco  decides he has waited long enough, so he pulls Luca towards him and starts making out with him, the very obvious bulge in Luca’s pants a clear indicator they gotta go to the room right now.

Pecco lets go of his boyfriend and follows him to his room, which gets unlocked in the span of three seconds, and once they’re in it’s locked just as quickly.

“Come here” 

Luca follows Pecco’s words and walks up to him, taking his face in his hands and letting the younger cup his ass and pressing their clothed cocks together. Luca moans a bit at the action and it makes Pecco smile, especially since Luca lets go of his face to unbutton his shirt, quickly undoing all the buttons and taking it off, letting Pecco do the same with his.

They resume making out, Luca’s hands working Pecco’s fly open, palming his dick through the boxers, making him moan in the kiss as his jeans are shoved to the ground and Luca gets his hands on his pecs.

“Get on the bed” “Oh you’re demanding today Pecchino?” “Either you get on the bed and get naked or I’m leaving you like this”

Luca bites at his lip before walking over to his bed and sitting there, slowly undressing, just to get Pecco riled up more than he already is. 

“You want a blowie?” “I want to fuck you” “Straight to the point ok” “Open your legs and pass me the lube” “No need for it” “Of course you need it” “Come check yourself”

And Pecco nearly almost certainly dies when Luca spreads his legs, because of all the stupid unhinged sexy things he could’ve done Luca chose to walk around all night with a plug.

Pecco stares for a full two seconds before getting on the bed as well, pressing Luca’s body against the mattress and smashing their lips together, rolling his hips against his boyfriend’s.

He grabs both his thighs and clenches his hands around them, feeling the strong muscle of them under his palms.

“You’re” Pecco stops to leave a hickey on Luca’s neck, he hasn’t forgotten how that man was looking at him before, and he’s not gonna just stand there and let that be, he wants to make sure it’s clear that Luca is taken “really something else you know? First time I topped you were all shy and quiet and now you just walk around like this”

Pecco doesn’t waste a second of his time and he immediately tugs down his boxers and takes out the plug, tossing it on the bed and flipping Luca so he’s on his hands and knees, stroking his dick a few times before entering him with one fast and precise thrust, which hits Luca’s prostate, making him arch his back and moan, Pecco immediately covers Luca’s mouth with his hand, because he really wouldn’t like being caught at Vale’s party of all places. He’s completely covering Luca right now, and it makes the other feel incredibly good, like he’s somehow owned by Pecco.

Luca keeps moaning against Pecco’s palm at each thrusts, every single one of them aiming his prostate and never missing, basically heaven on Earth, and that’s when Pecco starts kissing his neck, then switching to biting and sucking on the spots he’s kissed, drawing a sort of necklace there, always keeping his hand pressed against Luca’s mouth to keep him quiet, deepening his thrusts and picking up his pace, until the only sound that can be heard in the roos is that of his hips slapping against Luca’s ass.

His other hand is keeping Luca’s hip up, and he’s sure he’s leaving marks there too, which is even better than hickeys on the back of his neck. Luca’s ass in fucking red now and nothing is there to stop Pecco from letting go of his hip to smack it a few times, making Luca’s whole body tense up and shiver.

“You liked that right? You want more?”

Luca mumbles something against Pecco’s palm and he stops muffling his words, slowing down his thrusts and moving his hand, having him repeat what he just said.

“Yes yes please again”

Pecco smiles and picks up his pace again, this time Luca shuts himself up by burying his face in the pillow, moans getting suffocated by that as his legs keep shaking like crazy and Pecco gets faster, he’s sure the sound of it can be heard outside the room as well.

Both his hands are on Luca’s ass, squeezing it and leaving multiple marks, then spanking him another few times, making Luca’s body jolt with pleasure.

“You’re perfect Luca I swear, everytime I fuck you it’s amazing I never want it to end”

Luca gets tight around him and Pecco is glad because despite wanting to fuck him forever he’s human and he’s much too close now. And the more he looks at Luca’s red ass marked with his handprints the more he wants this man to be his forever.

He bends over his body, biting at Luca’s ear and whispering right into it.

“If you were a girl fuck I’d get you pregnant to make sure everyone knows you’re mine, I swear I’d do it, I wanna get you pregnant so people don’t dare to touch you”

Luca’s louder moan is muffled by the pillow but it’s clear he likes what Pecco just said, and Pecco couldn’t ask for a better reaction. The younger gets one of his hands around his boyfriend’s dick, stroking it in time with his thrusts, fucking in even deeper than before, hitting his prostate repeatedly and biting down on his collarbone, leaving teeth marks there.

Fuck he wants to mark him all over, cover every centimetre of his skin with his hickeys, brand Luca as his, only his.

“Luca I’m close”

Luca doesn’t answer, too busy moaning out loud and reaching his orgasm, clenching more around Pecco’s dick and his whole body shivering as he lifts his head from the pillow, turning around and calling for Pecco to kiss him.

Pecco obliges and as soon as their lips touch it’s over for him, he’s filling Luca up, moving one hand so he can close it around his throat, forcing Luca to stay in the kiss even more, the other hand still jerking him off to make sure he’s gotten out every single drop he had in him.

When he lets go of Luca’s neck he slides out, the older feels a bit weak, his legs still shaking from his orgasm and his brain trying to get back together.

He doesn’t have the time to calm down tho because Pecco turns him around and starts kissing him again, stroking his thighs and then suddenly phishing the plug back inside him, caging his release there.

“Keep it for me, yeah? I might not get you pregnant but I can fill you up and you’re gonna walk around like this so you remember you’re mine”

Before Luca can get his answer out Pecco starts branding him again, leaving hickeys on his neck and chest, biting at his nipples, and even going as far as drawing a “P” with hickeys on Luca’s left pec, on his heart, while leaving many other even a bit further down, on Luca’s belly and hips.

By the time Pecco is done Luca is completely painted, various degrees of purple, blue and red scattered all over his body, and Pecco couldn’t look more proud of his work.

“Let’s go back, your brother will be wondering where we are” “Stay with me for the rest of the party please?” “Sure baby sure” “So they know you did these”

Pecco smirks and kisses his lips, helping Luca to dress up back again and trying to look at least presentable.

“Vale is gonna kill you, you know that right?” “I’d die happy knowing you’re like this because of me”

Luca blushes when Pecco indicates his branded neck when saying “this”.

As they get back in the party room Bez sees them and winks at Luca, who blushes, then gives Pecco a thumbs up, all while holding Cele in his lap, who simply makes a face at the two coming back looking like that.

[kwisatzworld]

Pecco Bagnaia & Luca Marini

Qatar GP - November 19, 2023

©️ MICHELIN, VR46 Racing Team

[star-s-631]

It seems like a/b/o au is a thing so I might start drawing Marc suffering from lack of connection with his ex(at least Marc thinks vale left him)mate Vale or Marc with his little pack, Diogo, Alex, David and Fermin (Fermin is there coz he’s now shares team with Alex so they might get more close

OR Luca(alpha) accidentally protect Marc from vale or bez’s alpha kind action. Luca should be omega but I love a/a so alpha pecco and alpha Luca forgive me and let me be just happy with my delulu

And all of this is what I love to see and what I wanna draw so don’t take this seriously it’s just a fictional thing;)

[bezzplaining]

franky proposing mig with a snoopy ring:

valentino proposing marc with his earring:

bez proposing cele with a candy ring(strawberry flavor):

pecco proposing luca with a ducati contract:

[lagunaseca2013]

marcnaia arranged hookups? luca coda? tell us more please im so curious

lol hi anon! I feel like arranged hookups sounds a lot more sinister than it actually is. the premise of the fic is basically gigi tells pecco and marc that they have to hang out once every race week for idk team bonding reasons. little does he know they had emotionally fraught not-really-hate-sex at valencia testing which pecco cannot get out of his head, and marc enjoyed quite a bit, so their mandatory hangouts immediately become weekly dick appointments. it’s told entirely from pecco’s pov and the 2025 season progresses as such.

the luca coda is like. okay well obviously pecco is weird and fucked up about the decade long situationship he had w luca prior to luca’s, um, marriage. marc clocks it almost instantly and is trying to get to the bottom of it for most of the main fic, except it’s so painful for pecco to even think about that he literally can’t address it in the privacy of his own mind. the luca coda is to kind of slot in the missing puzzle piece of the story, what pecco is carefully avoiding for all of the main fic. I’m actively working on the main fic (it’s called honey trap and is tagged as such on here) but here’s the intro to the luca coda bc idk if that will ever see the light of day!

—

Luca hears about it from Celin, of all people. They’re walking back from the showers together because they both like to go last; it feels cleaner, to Luca, not to have someone breathing down his neck and flicking mud at him if he’s taking too long. It’s just another quirk for Celin, who has a lot of preferences with seemingly nebulous origins.

Pecco had told Bez, apparently, and was freaked enough by his reaction to keep it from the rest of them. Celin and Bez are in some kind of symbiotic relationship that only occasionally harms them both, so of course he heard about it eventually. Or, immediately, if Luca’s suspicions are correct.

He lets it slip when they’ve nearly reached the house, amber light spilling from the windows, shadows of bodies milling around through the glass sliding doors. It’s probably going to be some kind of pasta, because Vale’s chef has been around long enough to have pre-season traditions. He’s thinking about how he’ll convince Vale to break out the good wine, instead of the cheap stuff he buys in bulk because he still views them all as children with no taste, when Celin asks, apropos of nothing: “Do you think it will end poorly for him?”

Luca pauses, huffing a laugh and ruffling a hand in Celin’s hair. “Do I think what will end poorly for who, Stellina? I’m not like Bez, I can’t read your mind all the time.”

Celin blushes, shoving him away and patting at his wet curls self-consciously. They fall exactly the way they did before Luca got his hands in them, and exactly how they did before the shower. “Marco can’t read my mind,” he says sullenly, instead of clarifying. There’s a guilty edge to his look, like maybe he was hoping Luca would understand what he meant before he had to give away more details. Probably, this is another one of those things Bez told him in bed.

“Cmon,” Luca nudges him forward. He’s hungry and he’s tired and he’s getting cold standing in the dark with his hair also wet. “If you’re not going to tell me at least let me go inside before there’s no tortellini left.”

Celin grimaces, a torn expression on his face. Luca sighs, wondering when he became a person others confessed things to. These are the consequences of getting old, he presumes. “It’s just—well,” Celin looks down, fiddling with the hem of his oversized sweater. It’s probably Bez’s, just like whatever it is that he can’t seem to spit out is also Bez’s to share. Or maybe it isn’t. “Did Pecco really not tell you? What Ducati is forcing him and Marc to do?”

Well, Luca thinks, staring as the glow of the house dims, a bit. Someone had finally remembered to draw the curtains. There’s a sinking feeling in his gut, but he can’t attribute it to any one thing. Since he’d moved to Honda, the beginning of every season has sort of felt like a million things slipping through his fingers. Things he’d once held close quietly washing away. He and Vale don’t talk about work, really, anymore.

He doesn’t ask, whatever it is that Pecco told Bez who told Celin, that Ducati is forcing him to do with Marc Marquez. Luca has never held the sort of grudge against Marc that he probably should, and they’re teammates, anyway. He does all kinds of things with Joan Mir that he rather wouldn’t.

And the thing is, Pecco hadn’t told him.

Pecco isn’t really speaking to him right now. Although—maybe that’s overselling it. It doesn’t seem to be a choice so much as a natural consequence of the ever-growing space Marc Marquez appears to be taking in his best friend’s life. Luca feels it, though. An absence so large it’s become a presence. So hot and cold, Pecco has always been. Emotional whack-a-mole.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

HELLOOOO your peccoluca changed me as a person, 4 or 15 for the ask game with them? maybe both?

pecco/lucca: 4 (multiple orgasms/overstim) + 15 (pain)

“Hurts,” Pecco whines.

Luca looks up at him through his lashes, eyes horribly blue and burning. He hums around the cock in his mouth, and it’s like he’s jamming a nail into all of Pecco’s nerve endings. He lurches, warbles a please that’s barely a word, syllables clumped together.

He pulls off, though. Pecco’s cock falls limp on his stomach, spit-cool, sore. Pecco himself falls boneless on the bed.

“Hm?”

“Hurts,” Pecco says again, eloquently, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His entire body is still shaking, those fine tremors he can’t seem to control.

Luca lets out this considering hum through his rough, scratchy voice, shoves his fingers into the hinge of his jaw with a frown to loosen it. If Pecco could make sense of numbers, or any-fucking-thing, he’d try checking the alarm clock on Luca’s bedside table. Figure out how long they’ve been at this, how much is Luca’s jaw hurting.

He can’t even get his head off the pillow. There’s this molasses-thick, unresponsive buzz in his limbs.

But he knows—at least three orgasms, Luca swallowing down his cock like a metronome, like he was testing the set-up on a tough weekend. It feels like ages ago, knocking on Luca’s door, Sepang dust in his mouth days after flying out, sleepless, angry and fucking done with advice, racing, everyone.

“Is it bad?” He asks, smooths down his hand over Pecco’s sweat-slick thigh.

Even that makes him ache, skin prickling wherever Luca touches, a few sizes too small. Once, when Pecco was young, he touched a live wire by accident. Stood there wobbling and clinging to it until Carola pushed him off. That comedown was a little easier, less bits of himself to wrangle back in place. He thinks he has sand scraping and itching along his joints, cotton in his head.

“Too much,” Pecco says. Words slip like soap in his mouth—no, no, no, no, it’s good, I promise, except it stopped being good ten minutes ago and also, can you please, Christ.

Luca raises his eyebrows. “But is it bad? Should I stop?”

Pecco could cry on him, lashes wet and heavy each time he blinks towards Luca’s nondescript, tasteful, pearl gray ceiling. He pants instead, into his shaking, sweaty palm, through a sound that echoes an awful lot like a sob.

“I won’t get hard again.”

Honestly, just thinking about it makes him tired. He’s probably a few years off setting a record, or something ambitious like that. Pecco wishes it didn’t leave him cold and jittery, though, shutting down Luca’s plans. It settles in his stomach leaden and frizzing, a champagne high gone wrong.

Luca taps against the seam between his thigh and hip. Pecco’s leg jolts.

“I really won’t,” he babbles out, in a rush, sorry, sorry, sorry, I want sticking to his teeth.

“You weren’t hard the last time either,” Luca cuts in.

Pecco was a little too busy dying to notice, two of Luca’s elegant, birdboned fingers shoved inside his ass, Luca’s nose pressed against the thatch of hair on his groin, the bed liquid under him. He can’t even summon embarrassment, though he thinks that maybe he should.

“I’ll let up if you really think you can’t,” Luca offers, very gently.

Luca’s gentleness doesn’t mean anything, never does. He’s bent low again, cheek resting on his stomach, staring straight at him. Unmoving, sure, but Pecco can feel his cock, hard and needy and wet when it bumps against his leg. Can feel—oversensitive and boiling—those small twitches of his hips.

Pecco nods once, tries to work his way through speaking—

Luca’s mouth is on him immediately. He’s trying to choke on something mostly soft, sloppy, drooling. Pecco howls, tries to curl into himself, away.

Pecco keeps—sobbing, yes. He keeps sobbing, fingers buried in Luca’s hair, pulling so hard he feels some strands stick to his hand. The word shatters into a kaleidoscope of too much, too soon, nerves firing in the wrong directions, his limbs spasming.

He might as well have been set up wrong, wires crossed somewhere low in his belly. Time trickles by, laced with this white-hot, pitiless pain. Pecco doesn’t get hard—he said he wouldn’t, he did. But Luca only tugs at his wrist until he gets to lace their fingers together, stops with his limp dick held inside his mouth. A question in his fine, arched eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pecco whimpers, hears it through this cottony staleness plugging his ears.

And so Luca keeps going, mostly sucking, his tongue laving attention over his tip. He rubs himself against the hair on Pecco’s leg, and Pecco settles on it—tries to, at least. Lets the ache on his dick, on all of his nerves, ebb and flow like it does halfway through a long race. His thought scatter, scamper.

He’s half asleep, dead tired, raw around the edges. Distracted.

Luca gets mean. Of course he does.

It’s just—just a flash of teeth, scraping down his cock, Luca’s nails raking over his balls lightly. Pecco can’t even scream. Chokes on something wet and quiet, tears on his cheeks, and comes, barely a trickle. Doesn’t quite fall out of his body as much as he stops feeling it entirely, systems fried, vision whited out for a blissful second.

Luca pulls off, sucks in air hungrily—it breaks into a gutted noise that brands itself into his mind. “Fuck, Pecco,” he hisses.

He works his hand over his cock in those ugly, desperate twists, staring at Pecco slack-jawed, awed, vaguely hysterical, drenched in sweat.

It barely takes anything. One, two, three, four grinds against his own calloused, dry palm, deep and desperate like he’s fucking a cunt, and he spills all over Pecco’s stomach, over his spent, aching dick. The heat of his gaze prickles like a needle, makes him feel everything again. It hurts, hurts, hurts, so sweetly that he closes his eyes and lets it lull him to sleep.

[formulapookie]

luca sir-

maybe calm down your hormones will you?

[kwisatzworld]

Pecco Bagnaia and Luca Marini are checking the weather conditions during the Moto3 Qualifying.

[strawbunni-shortcake]

Peccoluca been yearning from day one....

[bezzplaining]

oh wife is mad

[lagunaseca2013]

Ohhh ive been having some thoughts about teen pregnancy au pecco/luca that actually ends up as a pecco/bez coz im annoying like that lol

GOOD MORNING ANON!! u must tell me allll your thoughts about this. I am frothing at the mouth a little bit. there’s so many factors about pecco/luca that work in a teen pregnancy drama—when pecco lived in luca’s childhood home, moto2 teammates, general lovesick puppy eyes they’re giving each other in every video since they were teenagers. but really what happened when I posted that thing was that I saw those pics of pecco holding turbo like a baby in his lap and was hit by a vision of sad teen pecco in a hospital bed holding a little baby who also has sad pecco eyes. and they’re both staring up at luca pitifully and luca understands immediately what guys who say they would kill and die for their families mean.

it’s also about like. a drunken mistake that pecco inexplicably was not able to bring himself to abort. he and luca have fooled around before but that was the first time they had full on penetrative sex and it was as horrifying as it was incredible. before they fucked pecco had plausible deniability that he wasn’t 1) gay 2) desperately in love with luca. everyone knows that a couple handjobs and the most emotionally intense post race bj of all time between buds doesn’t count. getting fucked in the ass and possibly accidentally saying I love you is like. well. he and luca had been avoiding each other for weeks when he first starts noticing symptoms……..

he takes bez w him to the clinic but doesn’t let him go to the appointment with him (needs emotional support but can’t bare to have anyone see him vulnerable like that. girl……..) tells the doctor about his constant nausea, sore nipples, irritability, inability to stay awake. the doctor very gently asks him if he’s sexually active. he very badly lies about it. the doctor takes blood to run some (vague explanation) tests. pecco sits there for fifteen minutes wondering if he has an std and if that means that luca has fucked other people and was lying about also being a virgin and wanting to kill himself for it. then the doctor comes back and is like. we’re going to do a routine ultrasound to look at your. uhhhh organs. it says here you’re not a carrier? pecco confused staring at the tiny blob on the screen shaking his head. the nurse comes in with the test results and the doctor like looks down at them, back up to pecco who is starting to feel a terrible sense of impending doom, then back to the ultrasound of a fetus in utero like. mr. bagnaia, we have run some tests and……..

pecco stumbling out like an hour and a half later and bez is pacing around the waiting room convinced he’s dying. pecco completely numb bc he just found out he’s a carrier via GETTING KNOCKED UP. and refusing to say a word about it just curled up in the passenger seat silently sobbing. bez is beside himself worried but has no idea what’s going on. takes them through a drive thru and buys him a ginger ale bc he knows pecco’s been throwing up nonstop for days. they sit in the parking lot while pecco takes small sips and pretends that he’s not shaking. bez very gently asks him if he’s okay and makes sure he knows he can tell bez anything. pecco shrugging and saying he has to talk to someone else about it first.

pecco hiding it from everyone for months and just looking increasingly sick and wearing insanely baggy clothes, and riding way past the first trimester. maybe everyone finds out bc he crashes during a training race at the ranch and panics and is like sobbing in the dirt and everyone is freaking out bc they think he’s injured and he drops the NO THE BABY bombshell. luca stumbling back from him shocked, horrified, face white as a sheet. vale kneeling next to pecco like pecchino tell me what’s wrong what’s this about a baby? bambino you have to breathe so you can tell us how to help you, whatever is wrong, if you are……..in trouble, it is probably not too late. pecco crying hysterically and shaking his head still unable to tell anyone anything.

I……..have not thought much about the rest of how they got to point a to point b lol. for the drama, I like to imagine this is around 2015, so pecco’s second-to-last season of moto3, luca’s first year of moto2 question mark (my understanding of luca’s career is shaky at best sorry). and also something else happened that year. can’t remember what.

basically the rest of this goes pecco has to drop moto3 that year because of (cough) injury from training accident, luca confronts him about it but not in the way where they talk about their feelings! that would be too easy! it’s more like, why didn’t you come to me, I feel responsible, I will take care of you, please let me take care of you. it lowkey makes pecco feel even worse bc he’s terrified that he’s just ruined luca’s life, up until that point he’d been trying to convince himself to have the baby old fashioned style in secret and then quietly put it up for adoption (that was absolutely never going to happen for the same reasons he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it) but now everyone knows and he hasn’t even told his parents yet.

it’s kind of unclear to me if luca was actually racing moto2 in 2015 or just doing wildcard entries? but either way pecco does not let him drop whatever kind of season he’s having but being apart makes them both extremely miserable. pecco is like. living with them, terrified of stefania, too ashamed to face vale (dw girl he’s got bigger problems this year), clinging to luca but hating himself for it. they are somehow not in any kind of relationship just. living out of luca’s room together. sharing a small bed. going to sleep facing opposite sides and waking up spooning etc. when pecco hits the crazy horny stage they do end up starting to have sex again but they’re STILL not talking about it or being in a relationship about it. it’s a fucking mess.

for maximum pecco torture points luca is somewhere else in the world when he goes into labor, early of course, so his mom and carola also aren’t with him yet. luca pulls an ultimate nepo baby moment and takes vale’s private jet and best believe makes it to pecco’s bedside in time for the birth of their daughter. sad teen pecco crying in pain convinced he can’t do it, luca letting him squeeze the hell out of his hands brushing his curls back from his sweaty forehead kissing him, reassuring him that he’s the strongest bravest most beautiful person that luca knows.

so. who’s last name do we think she has?

okay sorry anon this was crazy long. yet another mpreg to add to my arsenal. if u see this pleaseeee dm me/send me another ask bc I’m desperate to know how bez gets the girl in yours!!!!