eliopeach



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya rocks his hips up. “No, Hollander. Keep up. I want to meet your dildo.” He enjoys enunciating the word. Tries to give it a bit of a whiny Canadian inflection. “You remember? You told me about him, back in Vegas.”

    Hollander blushes beautifully and says, “That’s private.”

    “Hollander. I know the taste of your ball skin.”

    “That’s—Jesus, don’t say it like that. I can show you, but. Only if you promise not to be a dick.”

    “Best behaviour,” Ilya promises. “Will say only nice things.”

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    26 Dec 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 59

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    Hudson rubbed at his chest absentmindedly. "So uh," he started, eyes trailing over Connor as he took the final drag of his cigarette and put it out on the concrete. "In the least judgmental way possible, is this a thing for you?"

    Connor looked over at him and squinted. "In the least judgmental way possible?" he laughed. "What are you talking about?"

    Hudson raised his brows and shifted towards him, reaching over to press his palms over Connor's chest. "This."

    "Ah." Connor sighed and lifted one of his hands to circle one of Hudson's wrists. "Why?"

    "Dude, you grab my tits like every chance you get," Hudson laughed softly and dropped his hands to Connor's thighs. He massaged the muscles, knowing Connor did a leg heavy workout after they finished filming despite the fact that they were doing hockey scenes the next day. A satisfied groan slid past his lips as he trailed his hands over Hudson's arms, resting a palm over one of his forearms.

    "I mean, it's a good chest," he shrugged.

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    24 Dec 2025

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    “Do you want to know how it feels?”

    Shane let his hand fall back to the couch. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and lifted a brow at Rozanov. “What – holding the Cup? You’ve already made that joke once.”

    “No.” Rozanov’s fingers encircled Shane’s wrist and then he was pulling Shane’s hand between his legs.

     

    Or: Shane tops.

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    23 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    13 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Deafening, the sound of her.

    A pounding at his ear drums, an aching ream of resonance singing round and round the shell of his ears. Whipping winds howling at his eyes until he can barely see, bloodied tears pooling at his lids, catching in his lashes, courting dust, dirt, debris, the smell of the Mississippi hauled outta her riverbed and up in the air, drowning him as he tries to steady his feet. He can’t vamp. Not with his hand still holding fast to the knot of Lestat’s robe, not when the hurricane would force him, them, any direction it wanted, toss them around like a cat with a muddy-shelled roach, and vaguely he realizes that he has no idea where he’s going.

    -

    Louis and Lestat leave the shack the night of the hurricane, seek refuge in a store, navigate too many memories, argue, ache, and maybe figure out the start of a way forward.

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    04 Dec 2025