Elippo - Blog Posts

“You text too much,” Filippo murmured, head tilting back for Elia’s mouth on his neck, working his way down, Elia’s hand sliding under the collar of his shirt.

The corner they’d chosen was dark, a table shoved in a back of the bar for this specific purpose as glasses clinked around them and people laughed at things Filippo couldn’t hear.

“Since when?” Elia asked, not sounding too concerned. His fingers slid over Filippo’s chest and if Filippo had seen any other couple doing this, he might have rolled his eyes. That was the thing about Elia, though. He didn’t mind shit like this when it was Elia.

“Since Eleonora is getting suspicious.”

“You text more than I do,” Elia argued, mouthing among Filippo’s jaw. “You sent seven texts in a row the other day.”

“I was trying to pick a shirt and you were absolutely no help at all.”

It was Elia’s fault anyway, that he was sending so many texts, keeping him ‘glued to the phone’ as Eleonora had said. Filippo had left Eleonora at the flat after Elia’s text had popped up on his screen, her suspicious gaze following him out the door, her parting, “If I didn’t know you, I might think you were in love,” echoing in his head all the way down the stairs. He knew his sister and she wasn’t stupid–she’d figure it out eventually. He wouldn’t be able to brush her off forever, especially not to meet up with Elia at a gay bar and makeout in the corner.

Elia pulled back to look at him, his eyes dark and warm as he smiled at Filippo, his hand that wasn’t down Filippo’s shirt pushing through the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“I told you you look good in everything.”

It was a bald-faced lie and Filippo rolled his eyes. “Even the mesh shirt?”

“Especially the mesh shirt,” Elia replied, pulling Filippo’s mouth to his for a long, lingering kiss that almost made Filippo groan, hands grasping Elia’s waist.

It just wasn’t fair what Elia could get him to do, without even asking. Elia has simply appeared one day, tumbled into Filippo’s life and stayed there. And now he had Eleonora asking about boys and saying shit about being in love.

An unexpected thrill ran through Filippo’s stomach when Elia pulled back, his mouth curved into a smile, something warmer and softer between them as they sat too close in the back booth. He’d told Eleonora that there were plenty of guys, but the truth was, there was just one, and he was leaning into Filippo right now, as though all he wanted to do was kiss him.

It had been like this for weeks, Filippo giving in to Elia’s easy charm, them meeting up in secret places they knew their friends wouldn’t be, late-night phone conversations about everything and nothing at the same time. He hated to think that Eleonora was right, but maybe, maybe it was love.

Filippo shook that thought from his head as Elia pressed a kiss to his chin, hand sliding to Filippo’s neck. It was way too soon to be thinking about things like love, especially with Elia, no matter how cute he was, how much Filippo liked being around him. That was crazy.

But maybe there was something else they could think about.

“Elia,” he said after a minute, laying a hand against his throat, gentle, holding him back from pressing more kisses to his jaw. “How about we go to my place?”

Elia’s eyebrows went up as his gaze moved from Filippo’s mouth to his eyes. “Isn’t Eleonora home?”

Filippo shrugged, as though he didn’t know what he was implying, as though they hadn’t spent the last few weeks diligently avoiding arousing suspicion with their family and friends.

“So?” he asked, and Elia stared at him for a moment, big eyes rounded before a smile spread over his face.

“So,” he said finally, shrugging, pulling Filippo’s mouth to his, slow and warm, tugging on his lip piercing. “Let’s go.”

Grinning, Filippo didn’t get up, instead pulling Elia closer, kissing him easily. They’d go in a minute.

At night, Elia dreams of Filippo.

It’s weird, because he’s been obsessed with girls before, absolutely, so it’s not like infatuation is a new thing for him. But never has Elia dreamt with such vivid clarity and an undertone of such desperate want, longing, for someone before.

He dreams of lean abs painted like a statue of ancient Rome. He dreams of corded muscles tensing and relaxing as long fingers flick the end of a cigarette. He dreams of bleached curls and dark eye lashes; of freckles like constellations on smooth tan skin. 

He dreams of gasps and moans and whispers of “please” and “more” and “god don’t stop.” He dreams of soothing touches and bruise-educing grips; of laughter and the morning sunlight gleaming off of espresso eyes still hazy from a night of pleasure and sleep.

But Elia doesn’t dream reality. 

He doesn’t dream the careful way in which his eyes never fail to look out for Filippo across a rooftop party composed of mutual friends. He doesn’t dream of their eyes meeting and holding for an eternity, only for Filippo’s to eventually trail away when the disappointment that Elia can’t quite bring himself to make the first move after their night together weeks ago sets in. He doesn’t dream of Marti’s considering looks, or Gio’s pursed lips, or the way Luca seems oblivious to it all. 

(It’s not the boy thing, guys, it’s not that. I’m not ashamed, it’s just complicated.)

He doesn’t dream of his father slamming a Bible down at the dinner table in front of him, repeating over and over that the Santini family are good Catholics, great ones, and that good Catholic boys marry good Catholic girls and that there are no exceptions. 

It wouldn’t be hard to be a good Catholic boy. Elia likes girls without trying; he likes curves and giggles and the smell of perfume. 

But more than he likes girls right now, Elia likes Filippo.

Elia wants Filippo.

And Elia is nothing if not selfish.

So he looks up at the dark ceiling, watching the way shadows flicker as cars pass by. Then he glances towards his bedside table.

02:43

To Filippo Sava: can I come over?

Maybe you could write a fic where marti, nico, Eva and ele realized filo check out Elia

It’s when the boy’s figure has full disappeared along with his friend around a corner that Filippo plops his chin on his palm and shows off his most winning smile.

“You know, I’m beginning to think that maybe Elia and Sivia won’t be a good match after all.”

Eva looks up from her phone, “What? Why?”

Nico, on the other side of the table, cocks a single eyebrow up and all at once, his gaze flicks to the space Elia had occupied and disappeared from. There’s a thump from under the table, and Marti jerks in place, throwing a wild look to his boyfriend. Filippo blinks at Nico’s serene expression.

Whatever. Nico always was an odd one.

Filippo shrugs and turns his attention back to Eva, “Seems wrong to torment the kid with a girl he doesn’t even like.”

And it seemed right to keep the kid uninvolved with anyone until Filippo could properly formulate a plan to introduce himself.

Eva sets her phone flat on the table. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you’re into him?”

“Into him? Me?”

“Oh so you wouldn’t fuck Elia?” Ele chimes in with all the smugness that only a baby sister watching her brother squirm could muster.

Marti holds up a hand, “Wait. Wait what?”

“Filippo is into Elia and is now trying to sabotage my plan.” Eva points at Filippo, “Elia is straight.”

An easy, carefree counter, “So was Marti until he met Nico.”

Marti’s outraged, “Excuse me?”

“Well that’s not true. Haven’t you met Giovanni Garau?”

Nico’s eyebrows raise further, “Wait, what?”

Filippo bows his head a this clusterfuck of a conversation, “Fuck me. Nevermind, set him up with the blonde harpy all you want.” Filippo slides his phone out of his back pocket and checks the time, “I’ll get to him first. Martinico, my boys, where are you guys playing with Elia and the small boy? I think I’ll join in for a bit.”

I was wondering if you were gonna still post the continuation of that Elippo fic ? No pressure / not trying to rush , just wanna make sure I don’t miss it if you’re still planning on posting it

I know! We had some minor delays on account of studying and life, but here go with the continuation of THIS ELIPPO FIC.

——-

Filippo feels…

Well Filippo doesn’t really know if he’s felt much of anything recently. 

The first week– when Elia left him alone in his apartment with a half-eaten, meticulously chosen meal and a half-empty bottle of wine– is kind of a blur. 

He and Elia had been apart for longer than a week when they were whatever. Granted, not much recently, but one week wasn’t such a stress. But then the next week hit and Filippo just felt weird. Like he’d see something in the park or hear a funny joke and his thumb would immediately flit to Elia’s contact icon to…

To what? Tell him? Let him know that he was thinking about him? To want to share bits of his day with him?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t do that anymore. Which was… whatever. It was fine– it was–it was Elia’s choice because he wanted more than Filippo was willing to give.

It was fine. 

Keep reading

Request: Can you write an Elippo fic where Elia is in Filippo’s room and he doesn’t know the song (last clip) and Filippo was like HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW RAP FUTURISTICO and so he start playing it out loud and sing it to Elia doing dumb moves and at “tranne te” part screaming at his face and then kiss him like the Patatine e Marmellata clip?

Keep reading

Can someone recommend some really good elippo fanfic I've dug myself a deep tumblr hole and I don't think I'll ever leave it 😅

(I did not mean to do this but as soon as I drew the background, I knew they were outside. And @belledamsceno made that post about the lake...)

—

A cool breeze swept off the lake, and Filippo shivered, more at Elia’s fingers scraping over his side as he dragged Filippo’s shirt up his stomach.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you invited me to the lake with the boys,” Filippo murmured, tilting his head to brush his lips against Elia’s, gazing down at the beautiful boy beneath him, cheeks flushed pink in the early morning sun, a hickey still visible on Elia’s neck from last night.

Filippo hadn’t expected to find himself outside as the sun rose over the lake, tree leaves dappling the ground as the breeze rustled through the branches. He would have preferred a soft, warm bed, but those appeared to be few and far between at Gio’s aunt’s cabin.

Elia smiled up at him, fingers curling around Filippo’s neck. “I wanted to get you alone before everyone else gets up.”

“If we had the bed…” Filippo said, but he knew it was pointless.

“I didn’t know Gio was going to bring Sofia,” Elia murmured, pressing soft kisses to Filippo’s neck, in just the right way that Filippo felt himself melting at the touch.

“But you did know Marti was going to bring Nico,” he replied, breathing in the scent of soap lingering on Elia’s skin. It didn’t really matter. Either way, he and Elia’s chances at getting the bed had been slim to none.

Truth be told, as much as Filippo would bring this up later, he didn’t really mind sleeping on the couch, being roused at God knew what time so Elia could drag him out to the shoreline, pushing Elia into the grass and greeting him with long, sweeping kisses while Elia laughed and his cheeks went red.

Ella’s eyes were closed as Filippo gazed down at him, a soft smile on his face like he was waiting for Filippo to kiss him, and Filippo didn’t deny him.

He should have hated it, Filippo thought as he leaned into Elia, chest to chest, their bodies warm despite the breeze, his hand curled in Elia’s hair. Elia’s lips were soft, following the slide of Filippo’s. He should have hated being outside this early in the morning, having to watch the boys play FIFA for hours, watching Martino gaze lovingly at Nico every time he said anything.

He should have found it all profoundly irritating, but he didn’t. He liked waking up to Elia in his face, tugging him up, barely enough time to throw on a tee shirt before stumbling out the door. He liked the way Elia leaned into him on the couch while Luca complained about Gio outscoring him, Elia’s hand warm on his thigh. He liked catching Elia sometimes, giving him that same look that Marti gave Nico, though Elia would never admit to it.

“What?” Elia asked when Filippo paused, smoothing back Elia‘s hair.

Shaking his head, Filippo smiled. “There’s a little inn in town. Maybe next time we come up here with the boys, you and I can get a room.”

Elia grinned, eyes lighting up. “How romantic.” He said it teasingly, but Filippo was fairly sure Elia’s cheeks went a little redder at the thought.

“I’m very romantic,” Filippo assured him, kissing Elia slowly, sliding his tongue inside his mouth, fingers tightening in Elia’s hair until Elia moaned and arched into him, fingers bunched in Filippo’s hem.

“Fuck,” Elia mumbled against Filippo’s lips, taking a breath before sighing contentedly, breaking apart for just a second, foreheads resting together as the leaves overhead rustled gently.

Filippo should have hated this, this romantic, making out in the dewy morning grass, gazing at Elia’s parted pink lips, heart-thudding kind of stuff. The kind of stuff he would never have thought possible with someone like Elia.

But he didn’t. He might even be content to lay with Elia outside in the chill morning breeze until the sun fully rose, until Elia’s skin was pink for a different reason other than Filippo laying on top of him.

“Do you think the guys are up?” Elia asked after a long minute, the only noises the rustle of the leaves, water lapping at the shore, and the distant twitter of a bird somewhere.

“Maybe,” he allowed, but he didn’t care about the guys. Not right now. Instead, he tilted Elia’s chin to his, catching Elia’s smile. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“Then we should stay right here,” Elia agreed, nodding against Filippo’s lips, and Filippo merely smiled, kissing Elia easily. They’d stay right there.

Boyfriend, let’s go

Who me?

Well duh. You’re really thought I wanted to keep us a secret?

I-

He's so excited

“I’m the perfect roommate! Because it’s like I’m not there. You can’t see or hear me… Unless you want some company”.

It’s like as soon as I have something else to work on, all I want to do is write fic… So okay, who am I to fight my impulses?

***

The smell of food wafted through the air as Filippo pushed open the front door to the apartment and he paused as he set down his camera bag. Eleonora’s cooking certainly didn’t smell like that on a regular basis. The chances of it being his mom were also slim, and he headed for the kitchen, poking his head curiously around the corner.

A smile spread over Filippo’s face as he caught sight of Elia, his back to the door, stirring something on the stove.

“What are you doing?” Filippo asked, stepping inside and watching Elia whip around, spoon clattering on the stovetop, as though Filippo surprised him.

“Fuck, Filo, make a sound next time,” Elia said, letting out a breath, but he didn’t seem upset, dipping his finger in something on the stove and holding it out. “Here, taste this.”

Amused but not surprised, Filippo stepped forward obediently, licking the white sauce off of Elia’s finger. He caught Elia’s wrist, holding him steady, meeting Elia’s smirk.

Keep reading

Eleonora sighed at the mess on the counter, the espresso machine that hadn’t been cleaned in days. When Eleonora had children of her own, they would certainly learn how to clean up after themselves. Not that Filippo was her child, but it certainly felt that way sometimes.

Setting about cleaning up, Eleonora dumped the dishes in the sink, wiping down the countertop and grimacing at the coffee stains on the tile.

“Oh.” A surprised voice behind her made Eleonora pause, glancing at the doorway to find an awkward-looking Elia wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and a shirt Eleonora knew was one of Filippo’s. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

Shoving away her surprise at finding Elia in her apartment at nine in the morning, Eleonora shook her head.

“It’s after nine,” she said instead, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter as Elia lingered in the doorway.

Keep reading

heyy, i love your fics ❤ could you write a continuation of the fic where nico tells the boys about his first kiss with nico, but this time it's elia talking to them about filippo, i need more elippo fics

Elippo party #4!

*

“You don’t get to complain about me kissing Nico anymore,” Martino said from the chair, and Elia had to pull away from Filippo’s mouth to look at him.

“Since when do I do that?” he asked easily, receiving three equal pairs of raised eyebrows as Marti, Gio, and Luca looked at him.

“Since forever,” Martino reminded him, glancing pointedly at the way Elia was firmly ensconced in Filippo’s lap, Filippo’s arms around his waist.

Keep reading

My last contribution to our elippo party! This one is for all the Italians: I hope you’re okay and you’re making the most of being at home. Stay healthy! - Beware, there is smut ahead.

*

“How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?” Elia asked from where he lay, head hanging off the end of Filippo’s bed, barely suppressing his yawn as the felt the mattress bounce underneath him and Filippo crawled up beside him.

“Bored of my company already?”

Rolling his eyes, Elia smiled at Filippo, scooting back so his head wasn’t hanging off the end. “Just wondering how long the country is going to be in quarantine.”

He supposed he was lucky Filippo hadn’t said no to the idea of Elia joining him during the quarantine, or more lucky that Eleonora hadn’t nixed the idea. He doubted Filippo would have said no either way.

Keep reading

could i bribe you into writing more elippo with telling you it'd make my quarantined ass happy while reading it ?

Bribe me with comments and reblogs ;) that’s all it takes.

*

Wiping the sheen of sweat off his brow, Elia sighed, watching the hem of the curtains moving in the feeble breeze coming from the fan in the corner.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, blinking at the ceiling, lit up only by the sun outside. The lights were off, the living room bathed in shadows but it was still ridiculously warm even as he lay on the hard wood floor. “I would give anything for some air conditioning.”

“Repair guy said he was coming,” Filippo said from beside Elia, eyes closed, hand on his stomach, as though he was actually enjoying this.

“Before next century?” Elia didn’t know how long it had been since Filippo had pulled him down on the floor, saying it would be cooler somehow. Elia wasn’t sure why he’d believed that.

“You know what sounds good right now?” Filippo said, ignoring Elia’s sarcasm. Elia sighed in response, shoving his hair off his sticky forehead. The fan in the corner wasn’t nearly strong enough to blow away the hot, thick air swirling around them.

“Cold air.”

“Gelato,” Filippo said with a soft hum. “Ice cold, dripping through your fingers, sticky and wet and delicious.”

Elia blinked slowly at the ceiling. He wasn’t thinking about gelato as Filippo spoke, his mind wandering to other things wet and sticky. Fuck, though, it was way too hot to be thinking of that shit. Elia was pretty sure if he tried to move, he’d be stuck to the floor.

He wasn’t sure where Eleonora had run off to--probably somewhere that wasn’t ridiculously hot. Elia wasn’t sure why they couldn’t do that, why they were stuck waiting for the repair man.

“You’re sticky,” Filippo said, breaking Elia out of his thoughts, hazy and tired, as though the heat was weighing him down. He barely glanced over at Filippo’s finger tracing up his arm.

“It’s hot,” Elia said, as if Filippo didn’t know. As if the apples of his cheeks weren’t pink, a flush crawling up his neck.

“You can go if you want,” Filippo said after a minute, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. “Call Marti and see if his A/C is working.”

A part of Elia wanted to. He wanted so badly to not be sweating anymore, aching for some kind of relief that the pitiful fan was not providing. He could just leave, leave Filippo waiting for some guy who may or may not show up for hours. If he wanted to, he could have done it hours ago when Filippo had rolled him out of bed and announced the A/C was out.

But he was still here, his shirt discarded a long time ago, down to his boxers as he rolled onto his side, propped himself up on his elbow to gaze down at Filippo.

Filippo didn’t open his eyes, almost appearing asleep as Elia let his eyes graze over his shoulders, down his chest, the fox tattooed on his ribcage, the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his underwear.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said finally, brushing Filippo’s hair behind his ears. He’d been letting it grow out lately, starting to curl again, the bleach at the tips fading back to brown. Elia found he liked it this way, but then, he liked pretty much everything about Filippo.

Filippo’s eyes opened slowly, a smile curving his lips after a second. “Who knew you were so whipped.”

“Whipped?” Elia repeated, skeptical, but he didn’t pull away from Filippo, instead letting his fingers trail down his neck, leaving tracks in the sheen of sweat there. “I’m not staying for you.”

“Oh?” Filippo asked, curious eyebrows rising, like it he knew it was all bullshit.

“You know this is the first time we’ve had the apartment to ourselves in weeks. Since Edo left for the US?”

Filippo smiled knowingly. “Yeah,” he agreed, taking a deep breath as Elia’s fingers slid over his collar bone. Leaning into Elia, close enough that their noses bumped together, he tilted his head to the side, just enough that it would be so easy for Elia to kiss him. “Thought you were hot?”

He was. He was so fucking hot. But he was also very aware that Eleonora was gone and Filippo was wearing only a pair of boxers shorts, and well, they’d never fucked in the living room before and Elia wasn’t one to waste an opportunity.

“Maybe I want to be hotter,” he murmured as he closed what little distance there was between them, kissing Filippo easily, opening his mouth to Filippo’s, tongue sliding past his teeth as he rolled into him.

It was sticky skin, hot and flushed before they’d even begun, Elia’s hands anchoring in Filippo’s hair as they kissed, slow and languid, something aching in his chest when Filippo’s hands landed on his hips. 

Elia was going to make this good. He was going to make himself forget about the heat and how much he just wanted an ice cold shower. He was going to get his hand in between them, wrapped around Filippo, make him come with just his tongue.

Filippo’s soft exhale in his ear made Elia groan, biting at his jaw, hand gliding down Filippo’s stomach.

A knock on the door made Elia curse, almost disappointed when Filippo pulled away from his mouth. 

“That must be the repair guy,” Filippo said, patting Elia’s cheek with a slight smirk. “Keep that thought, okay?”

Elia certainly would, he thought as Filippo pushed himself up from the floor and pulled his shirt back on. Instead of getting up, Elia let out a breath and sunk back on the floor as Filippo let the guy in. He’d get something he wanted, one way or another.

42 or 48 dealers choice

I picked elippo for you!

*

As much as Elia hated studying for finals, it was even worse when he had to pass this exam or he might actually fail out of university. So far, his grades hadn’t exactly been stellar. Which was why he actually found himself at home on a Saturday night, studying. He couldn’t think of a worse way to spend the evening.

“When are you gonna be done?” Filippo asked as he draped himself across the couch, practically in Elia’s lap like a cat with boundary issues.

“When I know everything there is to know about chemical compositions,” Elia muttered, shifting his book out from under Filippo. His boyfriend wasn’t always one to take a hint.

“How about you take a break?” Filippo asked, pushing himself up and stroking through Elia’s hair as he tried to concentrate on reading his notes. “Five minutes. Ten minutes.”

“No minutes,” Elia replied, grabbing his book and flipping through the pages. As much as he would have preferred to pull Filippo on top of him and forget all about the exam, he couldn’t.

For a second, Filippo paused, watching Elia flipping through his book. “I got some new lube today,” he said, leaning into Elia’s ear. “Flavored.”

Elia bit back his smile as he turned to Filippo. “If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time.”

“I’m always worth your time,” Filippo reminded him, grabbing his book and shifting it from his lap. “You’d be amazed what I can do in ten minutes.”

Elia knew he shouldn’t give in, shouldn’t let Filippo worm his way onto his lap like he was doing right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to shove him away.

“I have to study,” he said, though he tilted his neck back for Filippo’s mouth to brush kisses up his throat.

“And research shows taking regular breaks helps you retain more information,” Filippo breathed, reaching for Elia’s shirt, tugging it up.

Biting his lip, Elia shook his head, sucking in a breath as Filippo’s mouth along his jaw.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” he murmured, and he felt Filippo smirk against his neck.

“Prepare to be amazed,” he said, and Elia laughed, fingers curling into his hair as his eyes closed. He was always amazed when it came to Filippo and he doubted this time would be any different.

I need you to know that I like you (I really really like you)

read on ao3

Summary: “You know I really really like you, right?” he asked, one hand moving to brush Elia’s hair off his face. The other had dropped the phone and was holding on to his waist.

“I do. And I happen to really really like you too.”

“I sure hope so,” was the reply, all too quiet for Filo’s usual exuberant manner of speaking, like it was just for them to hear.

in which Elia tries to figure out what exactly his relationship with Filippo means.

Eleonora has seen her fair share of Filippo’s morning-after dates, but a naked Elia in her kitchen wasn’t one she expected. She just hopes it won’t become a regular thing, though from the looks of it, Elia might be here to stay. She’ll have to figure out a way to deal with her brother and his annoying new boyfriend.

OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES!