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@beingalones
beingalones is a selective to private (depending on my mood) indie writing blog. mun is 29, uses she/they pronouns and in the aest timezone. you may find triggering subject matter on my blog such as murder, smut, horror, kinda ugly tall men, etc, but you’re more likely to find me getting emotional about people touching hands accidentally. formerly ghostwifed. links below!
guidelines
characters
open starters
wishlist
wanted opposites
wanted ships
OFF CAMPUS — 1.06 "The Breakway"
"it says you have good taste," she answers, easy, without turning around, "obviously." the riddles comment makes something in her chest move, not quite guilt, not quite satisfaction. though she lets it pass. he's not wrong — she does speak in riddles, spent a long time perfecting the particular art of saying things that could always be walked back. it's useful. "i always look good," she says, to the last part, but there's no real bite in it. it's reflex, the deflection dressed up as confidence, and somewhere in the middle of saying it she becomes aware of how close her mouth is to his jaw. the warmth of him at her back. the easy way they move together like they've done this a hundred times, which they haven't, not like this. she should probably create a little distance, yet she doesn't. "you're not so bad yourself," she says instead, quieter, almost lost in the music. "when you're not making terrible jokes, but i kind of like this idea that i've pavlov trained you into getting hard." her fingers find his again against her middle, and she lets the song carry them for a moment without saying anything else. sometimes silence with oliver was easier than it had any right to be, and she hadn't quite figured out what to do with that yet.
every little volley back his way, every comment only leaves oliver more eager to remain close to her, to keep playing this game of back and forth all the way to a moment alone. he feels so reckless tonight that he's half-tempted to coax her into a quiet corner and push his hand underneath her dress. the returned compliment means enough, leaving him smirking to himself, before she prompts laughter. "shouldn't be feeding your ego, but i don't really think i could hide it when you're ass is pressed into me like that." and the last thing that oliver wants to do is break the contact between them. he enjoys it, the quiet, the moving with her, the way his hips subtly shift against hers, reminding her of his want as his hand lingers against her torso. he doesn't notice the interruption making its way over at first, leaning in to her ear so he can speak softly as his eyes remain half-lidded. "let me take you home." he wants to be alone with her, wants to kiss and touch her more than he can on the dancefloor surrounded by people. in a swift moment, there's a man making eye contact with him and then a firm hand around his arm, roughly pulling him back from rima. "woah, what the fuck?!"
"....um, and who says i can't handle it?" she gives the other girl a wide eyed stare, but the smirk on her lips echoes a sentiment a little less innocent. she's surprised when six tilts her chin up, but she likes it, the small brush of her fingers feels like pop rocks on her skin. "i think you'd be surprised at what i could handle--"
that question manages to prompt a grin, soft laughter following quickly after, because of course gin asks a question like that with the most doe eyed look in her eye. still, she sees something in her smile, a hint of something else. "i like you being all confident." she muses, holding her chin between thumb and forefinger. "it's cute."
she's rather pleased with herself when his skin flushes with a red hue, forcing herself to sink her teeth into lesser to bite back the giggle that threatens to free itself. watches as he moves to free his hands of the box, lifting her feet slightly to rid herself of the clothing and pushing it out of the way. eyes go wide when he's grabbing her wrist and pulling her flush against him. there's something about the fact that she's fully naked and he's entirely clothed still that has a warmth brewing in her lower abdomen. a vulnerability about it that has arousal beginning to coat pussy lips. head lulls backward slightly so that she can meet homme's gaze. "i'm not a very big fan of saying the word please," and while partially true, dylan simply is intending to play up the brat act. free hand moves over his groin and cupping his cock through the fabric of trousers. "what's going to happen if i'm not a good girl, grayson?" queries with a bat of her lashes, an innocent smile pulling at the ends of her lips as she uses two digits to tug his zipper down. "please use the ropes on me. happy now?" isn't wasting anytime to undo the button to pants now before her hand dives into boxers and firmly wrapping around girth. "want you to tell me how many times you've thought about this ... please."
deep down, grayson knows she's all talk. it's dylan. beautiful, sweet, irritating dylan. friend, persistent object of his desire. his grip tightens on her wrist, tempted to snatch up her other hand too as she rubs him over his pants. he hardens under the touch of that hand, a confirmation of what he'd been struggling to accept since the situation shifted so suddenly. "good girls have a much easier time getting what they want with me." he replies gruffly, not even posing the chance of punishment, though the peek he'd gotten at her ass has his mind wandering with how good it'd feel to see it burn red with his handprint. his eyes roll as she so sarcastically gives in, but he can't keep up his annoyance long, not when she's wrapping her slender hand around the length of him. his breathing becomes shallow. "you're so fucking impatient." he teases, though he allows her the chance to touch for a moment. he licks his lips and then as she prompts him and gives him that much more delicious and intentional please, the switch fully flips. grayson drops her hand, only to pull her hand out from his boxers. his hands capture both of her wrists, using his other hand to turn her around and lead her to the edge of the bed where he pushes her down face first. he takes both of her wrists again, keeping them firm behind her back as his hand reaches into the box beside her and pulls out one of the sets of rope. "you want me to stroke your ego? to get you off with thoughts of me pining over you and stroking myself imagining a moment like this?" he questions and then purses his lips. "stay still. you asked for this, you'll manage to be patient." grayson waits a beat, but he gives in. he always gives in to her. "like i was."
i want a ‘you’ve been dating my brother, but he clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so ive come to save the day even though i’m entirely sure i’d be worse for you’ kind of plot.
"it's very irrelevant. you can't have been avoiding me for weeks because of a crush you just found out about--" his jaw tics, and her frustation dissolves into something less flamable, softens until it's concern and worry, and discomfort. she's never been good at being vulnerable, it feels a little bit like ants underneath her skin. disconcerting. she tilts her head when he speaks, her brow furrows in confusion. "i didn't know you felt that way about him--enough to have a list." she answers quietly. she'd thought she understood what was happening, had pegged it down to testosterone, bizzare best friend possessiveness (she's read about it, apparently, it's a thing), or discordant personalities. but the more spencer speaks, the more disoriented she feels. they're close enough now, that she can make out the different flecks of green in his eyes and her eyes slip to his mouth for a half second before holding his gaze again. "spencer..." she bites her bottom lip, and exhales slowly. she's been here before, half convinced spencer was about to kiss her, but he never did. they never crossed that line and she'd convinced herself that her crush was a thing that needed burying. after all, everyone had a crush on him-- it was fully possible it was some kind of right of passage, that her feelings were nothing but that. but now, her clear cut certainty feels a little fuzzier, a little more dangerous and something akin to hope stirs in her gut the longer he looks at her, and she hates herself for being so quick to fall for it. spencer looks at her with soft eyes, and she just folds. it's embarrassing. "i just want the truth, okay? whatever it is. because you, avoiding me like this? i hate it. i hate not seeing you. i hate not talking to you--it fucking sucks so-- tell me how to fix it."
obviously she isn't wrong about that not being why, but spencer is still holding his cards close to his chest, showing her a peak but not giving her the full spread of his thoughts. it feels dangerous to reveal them, even with one of her own laid down on the table, bare to him. she had a crush on him. past tense, then? not now, not now that she has a boyfriend? and yet, her boyfriend remains quietened on a switched off phone. a non issue. this has to be about them. "it wasn't obvious? i haven't... acted like myself. i know i wasn't nice to him, he's an idiot but he's not that much of an idiot. think maybe he could see through it, a little..." his frown is directed at the floor for a moment, then at her feet and as his gaze lifts to hers again and his name falls from her lips, he reaches for it with two hands. he needs to stay present, not drift off with the maybes and memories that sit behind them. his shoulders slump and he swallows the lump that's formed in his throat. the truth. surely that much he can offer her, can't he? dark brows knit together and the look on her face makes his heart ache in his chest. "the last thing i wanted was to be disconnected from you, lola. i really mean that, you're like... you're my favourite person in the world. and it wasn't really about him, not when i'm completely honest about it. i don't like him, i can't lie about that, but i think..." he paused for a moment, breath catching in his throat before he was able to force the words out, though they came out softer, almost pitiful. "i guess i just couldn't deal with it, that it was him and not me." as soon as he'd put the words out there, spencer feels himself wanting to take them back, lips parting as he tries to find his bearings. she said she had a crush on him. had. "i'm sorry."
Barry rolls his eyes but there’s a playful smile on his lips at Fabian’s words. “Yes, you’re so deep and mysterious,” he teases. His words were just that, teasing. He knew there was far more than what met the eye to Fabian. He felt it whenever they were together. For every time the other man earned a roll of his dark eyes, there was no lack of moments where Fabian utterly surprised him. The fingers simply running down his arm leave a trail of fire in their wake, and Barry had already lost any hope of not caving. Not that Barry had any reason to hold back. They were both single. They were both attracted to each other. Why should Barry overthink anything else? “I have a couple ideas…” he says meeting Fabian’s gaze as he reaches up to brush his fingers across his sharp jaw. He leans in almost like he’s daring the other man to make that first move of contact. Except surprising even himself Barry closes the last few inches of space between them, kissing the other man like his entire life depended on it.
Fabian can't help but laugh, pleased by just how easy this is. He feels good, though he hasn't decided in his head where he intends to take it. It feels like he's been waiting for his window of opportunity, but he doesn't want to strike to early and run the risk of rejection. Still, he opens the floor to the possibility with his gentle touch and lingering looks. His brows lift as he quietly seems to indicate their minds are in the same place, those fingers along his jaw prompting something darker in his blue eyes. "Colour me intrigued." He replies playfully, breath catching as Barry leans in and all at once, the situation rapidly shifts. Fabian isn't mad at the kiss, instead he's hungry for more, kissing him back just as eagerly. One of his hands wraps in the fabric of his shirt, gripping it tightly to keep him close and the other hand has fingers threading through his dark hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue slides against his bottom lip and he pulls back reluctantly to breathe, exhaling against his mouth. "If this is the kind of distraction you're wanting, I think I can oblige."
“beg?” jamie echoed with a genuine burst of laughter, since he didn’t think that slater could possibly be serious. sure, she hadn’t invited him over or anything but it wasn’t like him turning up unannounced was something new. not that it was always welcome on those occasions either. however there was something steely in the gaze upon him and so his laughter soon tapered off. “you really want me to beg, slater? out here? come on, just let me in.”
that laughter that poured from his lips ignited something spiteful and stubborn in slater, though she had already known from the moment she opened that door that she wouldn't be relenting. she clenched her jaw and stared him down, her hand held harder onto the door frame, her stare unbreaking. "you heard me, jamie. you want to come in, you beg." she offered a smile now, something warm and unsettling before she elaborated. "on your knees."
" you sure think highly of yourself, " retorts, making absolutely no attempt to maneuver himself out of the other's tract; pliant as he always seemed to be when kristian was concerned. couldn't call himself prey if he willingly and freely walked right into the trap. " i've seen you perform better. you seemed kinda distracted —— was something distracting you? "
"and is there some reason why i shouldn't?" offence flashes briefly over his features, lips pursing into a displeased look for a moment at the very notion, but then kristian relaxes back into himself. he remains there in front of finn, eyes trailing over him thoughtfully before his fingers lift. quickly, his look of appreciation sours. "you think you're so much of a distraction?" they scoff, but then they smile, head canting to one side as their fingers trail over finn's jaw. "i suppose you were, seeing you stand there with all that awe and want in your stare, eye-fucking me the whole time..."
“and what exactly are we not supposed to be doing?” caia’s actually quite aware that she’s most certainly not supposed to be here, all but stopped herself from making a blood oath to a witch to keep herself away from ciro. and yet… “this is just a very casual, very normal meeting.” casual and normal, obviously the first two words that come to mind with ciro. “i mean it, c. you’re not going to get me to budge this time.”
ciro can't pretend he doesn't enjoy caia's inability to stay away, perhaps because deep down he struggles with the same issue. he's made his attempts to let her go over and over, only to once more allow himself the delicious toxicity of their bond. "i rebuke both of those words, but i fear i haven't got the self control to keep pushing you." he decides. he'll let it lead to its inevitable end, as it always does. ciro exhales slowly and then reaches for her hand, lifting her fingers to his lips for a kiss. "if you're determined to stay, we should make the most of our time together."
closed for @beingalones . . . feat. griffin. ✩°｡⋆ 🗯
the motel room he found himself in was dingy, almost a little depressing, but griffin was sure that it was exactly how the other liked it. he fixed them with a look that he hoped was withering as he sat down hard on the edge of the bed, a fine tremor in his fingers that he knew wasn't going to end anytime soon. “gotta give me at least one good reason why you made me come all the way out here,” he starts, but even the air of confidence he wanted to portray was falling flat. “c'mon. know you got one. y'should spit it out.”
hugh has been chain-smoking for the last hour, but doesn't second guess lighting another. he has an agreement of sorts with the owner of the motel, that this room has a blind eye turned to it when it's about the comings and goings or the smoking. he scoffs out soft laughter, amusement flashing over his features. they used to have a routine of sorts, but it's clear that griffin is struggling with accepting as much. he licks his lips and elaborates, cigarette wafting between his fingers. "you and i both know the drill. i say jump, you say yes sir, how high, sir, please fuck me, sir..." he pretends he'll tip someone off, griffin pretends he doesn't live for the meetings. still, it's been a month since he reached out. "what if i missed ya'?"
closed for @beingalones . . . feat. teddy. ✩°｡⋆ 🗯
“we've gotta stop meetin' like this,” it's meant to be teasing but teddy means it as anything but, fingers curled hard in the front of the other's shirt. it's cramped, their bodies pressed too close together in a storage closet that he's certain neither one of them were supposed to have a key to. his eyes flicker up, focusing on the other in the dim light before the corner of his mouth turns up, tugging them even closer. “but i can't say i'm complainin' too hard. you oughta came here for somethin', yeah?”
this is not a predicament that louis finds himself in often. unfortunately for him, he's painfully charmed by the soft utterance that falls from teddy's soft, pink lips. he stares, entranced for a moment before he swallows, dropping his gaze and smiling in spite of how warm his body has grown in the midst of being pressed against him. it's not a situation he should be in at all and yet he allows teddy to pull him closer, his eyes trailing from his eyes down to his lips once more. "and are you offering to provide whatever it is i came here for, then?" he asks in return, his hands finally reaching out for teddy's hips, keeping him nice and close. "let's not pretend we didn't both come here for a reason."
closed for @beingalones . . . feat. raine. ✩°｡⋆ 🗯
“don't be mean,” her voice pitches up, squirming against the other's hold as her brows furrow even tighter together. the southern lilt in her tone was thicker than ever, a consequence of however damn long the other had been teasing her now. she lost track of time a while ago, and she swallowed hard, back arching in the late afternoon sunlight spilling through the curtains of her bedroom. she hiccups out a whine, thighs falling apart even further. “please. please, don't — don't be mean, please touch me.”
it's easy to be pleased with the way that raine squirms, but london is even more grateful for the ties that keep her wrists above her head, secured to the headboard as they continue to enjoy the slow, torturous pleasure being inflicted on her perfect body. the corner of their mouth lifts in amusement, head cocking to the side as they put on a cruel, mimicking pout. "i don't know you're in any position to be makin' demands, baby." they point out, short nails trailing down the inside of her spread thighs, knowing she'll buck her hips for them. "you just look so pretty like this, all desperate and needy for me."
closed for @beingalones . . . feat. james. ✩°｡⋆ 🗯
“c'mon — c'mon, c'mon, c'mon,” the words are muttered more to himself than anyone else, phone pressed tight to his ear as his truck finally rumbles to a stop in front of their home. he can feel it, the anxiety lingering tight in his chest, the rush of memories from the night before only serving to make it all worse. the dial tone rings a few more times before a click, and he holds his breath for a moment before he hears the hello? on the other side. “it's jimmy, don't hang up, don't hang up, please, just — let me come in. please, let me explain.”
for all attempts to exorcise james from his life and his mind, here salvatore goes again, staring at the number that flashes on his cheap phone with hesitation. his own failures that week are one thing, but answering is the wrong call, he knows that clearly. the property is quiet now as the truck comes to a stop and sal holds his breath for a moment, before he gives in, bringing the phone to his ear and muttering a greeting. his mind is almost blank, his heart thumping hard as he listens to the voice on the other line. he knew it was him even before he answered and now as he stands there silently, he stares at the door. "what is there to explain, jimmy? you gotta let it go. we can't keep doing this shit."
Gilmore Girls — S2E15: Lost and Found
