Drabble like no Tomorrow
Hi. I'm a newbie. Mostly been surfing quiet_ones but just popped over here. *blush* I can't write smut to save my life, so maybe someone can train me? I promise to be a good studnet ^_~
Title: Lies
Pairing: Draco-Blaise // [Implied Blaise-Theo]
Summary: Draco thinks he's using Blaise. Blaise knows he's using Draco.
Warnings: I don't think there are any. Besides the obvious SLASH and ... implied sex. Er. Yeah?
He grabs me by the head and drags me to the shore
“maybe you don’t love me, but you’ll grow to love me even more.”
The first time it had happened people had been in uproar. The Malfoy heir had been on his knees, his perfect blonde halo interrupted by thin fingers, Blaise smirking down at the boy. They’d never figured him to be the sucking sort of type.
The second time had been more expected. Draco walking in after class in a bad mood, a scowl on his face. A scowl that shattered when Blaise leaned himself against the wall, showing his neck, the Adam’s apple bobbing as he’d simply said, “…come here, Malfoy.” Draco had refused, but his eyes had never left Blaise’s. When the dark boy had beckoned again, sliding down the wall a little, legs splayed out to either side of the chair on front of him, Draco had needed no second call.
The third time Draco had walked in on Theodore Nott pawing at what he had called ‘his Blaise’. Zabini had regarded him as he’d accused them, a hand down Nott’s pants, and coolly explained ‘the situation’. Somehow Draco always ended up on his knees at the end of these exchanges. Something he convinced himself that he planned.
Just like how Draco told himself that he had planned to let Zabini and Nott snog in the library. He told himself that he had planned to have Blaise invade his room later that night, command him. Master him. He told himself that he liked it that way. That he was the one in control. He’d planned on screaming into the pillow, on the furrows that raked across his hips and thighs.
Draco Malfoy told himself that he had planned the tears that stung when Blaise had left, Theodore Nott at his side.
Title: Darkness and Crystal
Pairing: Harry/Draco Harry/Blaise
Summary: Harry tries to hold onto things too tightly sometimes.
Warnings: None that I can think of :D
Harry didn’t want what he couldn’t have. It was one of his more Slytherin traits, to grab onto something with both hands and try to walk off with it. Just as he had grabbed onto life, onto his friends, onto Quidditch. He’d tried to grab a hold of love the same way, only it kept slipping through his fingers.
Sometimes Harry adored the way that Blaise slid in and out of his embrace, brushing shoulders, or the linger smirk after they kissed. Sometimes he wanted to hear that mocking tone Blaise used when he called him ‘The Boy that Lived’.
Draco had called him ‘The Boy that Lived to be Fucked up the Ass’. Draco was like holding crystal, all angles and none of the same silky darkness that Blaise had. Draco was just as sharp as his words, up front in his passion.
Sometimes Harry hated Blaise’s darkness. The dark skin, dark lips, dark smile. The way that he didn’t stay past midnight, or the way that he seemed to live to embarrass Harry. Sometimes he wanted Blaise to leave him.
Harry had learned not to hold into Draco too tightly, because then he got cut. And he’d learned not to hold onto Blaise to tightly because then the other would slip through his fingers. He learned that not all love could be held with his hands, and that his heart was more delicate than his body.
Sometimes, Harry wanted something more substantial than darkness and softer than crystal.
Title: Shadow
Pairing: Harry/Draco [Blaise--->Draco]
Summary: Sometimes Blaise wants to be Draco's fire, instead he's his shadow.
Warnings: None :D
Blaise is Draco’s shadow. He isn’t stone like Crabbe and Goyle, nor is he the ivy that is Pansy, snaking her hands around and behind the Malfoy’ heir’s head. He will never twine fingers with Draco, nor will he press the boy against walls and have his way. Shadows don’t have any way except for the path given to them by their casters.
Harry Potter is Draco’s fire. He burns stone and scorches ivy. When Harry Potter is near Draco Blaise melts away because the Boy Who Lived cast just as much light as he does heat. When Draco is done getting burned he plays at Peter Pan, re-sewing his shadow to his feet. Stitching Blaise’s hands to his hips, taking what he wants.
Blaise always gives, because shadows never ask questions.
Sometimes, Blaise wonders why it would be like to be Draco’s fire, because fire only takes and never gives back.
Title: Sheets
Pairing: Blaise/Draco
Summary: Blaise gets Draco's sheets dirty.
Warnings: Er. Roughness, blood? Not very much, I swear. Er...Language
“You fuckin’ whore.” Draco Malfoy was not a happy person. He pointed to the sheets, the perfect white sheets. Or what had been perfect, except for the single droplet of red on one corner. Blaise Zabini, who was lounging on the opposing bed looked over, dark brown eyes regarding the spot.
“Its yours.” he said calmly, turning the page of his book. Which only lasted so long before the temperamental blonde ripped the book out of his grasp and threw it into the wall. Blaise watched with a coolly apathetic look, “…you should be more considerate of other people’s things, Malfoy.” Draco slapped him.
“And you should be more considered of other people’s sheets, Zabini.” The dark boy let the blow turn his head, a slow smirk forming on his face and he grabbed the blonde’s wrist. Tugging and twisting it so that the shorter boy ended up against his chest, the other hand went for the nearby dresser. Where he picked up an angular scoria stone, dragging it across the inside of the other’s wrist.
“Learn respect, Malfoy.” Blaise murmured, his voice strangely patient and vague, but his lips brushed against the other’s ear. His tongue sliding out to tease the earlobe, breath sending shivers down Draco’s spine. The scoria migrated up Draco’s arm, across his chest where it was viciously ground into one erect nipple, which caused the blonde to yelp and squirm. Blaise silenced him with a kiss, which earned him a bite on the lips.
“Learn your place, Zabini.” Draco retorted, knocking them both over onto the bed, yanking his wrist free and fought for the scoria in Blaise’s hand. The dark boy didn’t relinquish it without a fight, dragging Draco’s head down at an odd angle with a handful of hair. The Malfoy heir jabbed Blaise in the corner of the mouth with the stone, scraping skin. Then he kissed the other Slytherin, the rock pressed between their palms.
When Draco leaned back he spat bloody saliva onto the sheets.
“Fuckin’ whore.” He said again.
Title: Honor Thy Mother
Pairings: Light Harry/Blaise (OMG...I'm sorry its not Draco-Blaise!?)
Summary: Blaise honors his mother. And uses Harry Potter.
Warnings: Character death. Implied incest.
This fic feels incomplete to me, but I just had to stop....
“…There is no other in your eyes before your mother,” She intoned, fingers combing through his hair. Sliding down his neck, resting on his tie, tugging. He was eleven, she was almost three times his age by now, but she looked only twice his age. Her face was perfect, just like his. Her smile was not.
“There is no other in my eyes before my mother,” He repeated, their skin matched. Darker than tan but not as dark as ebony. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, patting his chest fondly.
“There is no one I love more than my mother.” She kissed him again, this time on the lips, her hand sliding underneath his shirt. Blaise’s breath hitched.
“…there..there is no one I love more…than my mother,” The boy gasped out.
~!~
Blaise sighed, fingers tangled in his lover’s hair.
“What are you thinking about?” Green eyes looked over at him, and pale hands followed, tracing spirals on his bare chest.
“…My mother.”
“Do you miss her?” Harry asked, a bit confused as to Blaise’s sigh.
“…Not in the least.”
~!~
"...if you learn to love you have to let go." He repeated his mother's lesson slowly, "If you learn to let go, then you can learn to follow. If you can follow, you can love without interruption."
"Do not be noticed, for that will attract attention to yourself. Do not attract attention to yourself for you will be forced into things you don't want. Give what you can without touching, for touching only leads to love."
"Do not love others before your mother." He whispered, "For her anger is greater than that of the Gods."
"...lastly. Use before you can be used."
~!~
Blaise had never been fond of the killing curse, instead he did it the muggle way, with his own two hands. He had wanted it to feel personal. To feel Harry Potter’s life slip away. To use, because he had been so sure Harry had been using him.
“…I’m home, mother.”
Title: Break
Pairings: Draco/Blaise
Summary: Draco could never break Blaise's heart, so he tried to break his body instead.
Warnings: er. Abuse? Its nothing too heavy, I swear.
(Again, it feels... unfinished)
Draco could never break Blaise’s heart. So he decided to break his body instead.
He could never tell when he had bruised Blaise, the violets and blues absorbed into dark flesh like they had never been there. So he went for burns instead, letting the skin pucker and curl around the tip of his wand, listening for the slight increase in breath. He wanted to break Zabini over his knee, except even that wouldn’t give him but the briefest of pleasures.
Draco wanted to hear Blaise scream, because pain was proof that you were alive.
Anyone could smile and laugh or pretend to care.
Draco wanted to feel Blaise’s scorn, because it was a human emotion.
He could never quite figure out what Blaise’s game was. The way that the would look at him, the way that he seemed to offer trust. And then the way that he fought back, just enough to make Draco work for it. Just enough that they both drew blood, and just enough that Draco drew more. Just enough, like the way that he smiled, hinting at it behind the smirk.
Draco wanted Blaise to laugh, because he never did.
He could break Blaise’s neck, Draco mused. Or strangle him, both hands wrapped around the slender dark neck in front of him. Slanted eyes regarded him the same way they always did, waiting. If this was checkmate then Draco was sorely confused, because they were both pawns and the king was nowhere in sight. He only saw part of the board, and only too late realized that Blaise’s body was a pawn, and his mind the queen.
Draco could never understand Blaise. So he stopped trying.
Title: Secret Keeper
Pairings: Harry/Blaise, Draco/Blaise [Mentions Ginny.]
Summary: Blaise is Harry's secret keeper.
Warnings: None?
I.
Blaise kept the best secrets. The way that he wore his shirt, the collar ruffled, stiff, peaked. The way he moved, kept his sleeves at his wrists. The way that he was never caught after hours moving from one House to another. The way that he lied to Ginny when she caught him with a handful of Potter’s hair, tongue shoved down the other boy’s throat. Even if Harry had a sore lip the next day, and Blaise a sore cheek because Ginny had slapped him. And detention and threats of expulsion. Molesting the golden boy indeed. Blaise was Harry Potter’s secret keeper.
II.
Blackmail was a form of communication in the Slytherin Common Room. It was the only way to get close to the truth. Draco Malfoy had some particularly good truth in front of him. Snakes and lions don’t mix. He’d said. Neither do snakes and snakes. Blaise had replied.
Malfoy proved him wrong.
III.
Blaise kept the best secrets. Rolled and coiled around a lion, draped across a dragon’s back. Caught between two Houses after hours, using and being used. Blaise was Harry Potter’s secret keeper, and Draco his confidant.
So, all and all I fail at smuttyness XDDD;;;
Title: Lies
Pairing: Draco-Blaise // [Implied Blaise-Theo]
Summary: Draco thinks he's using Blaise. Blaise knows he's using Draco.
Warnings: I don't think there are any. Besides the obvious SLASH and ... implied sex. Er. Yeah?
He grabs me by the head and drags me to the shore
“maybe you don’t love me, but you’ll grow to love me even more.”
The first time it had happened people had been in uproar. The Malfoy heir had been on his knees, his perfect blonde halo interrupted by thin fingers, Blaise smirking down at the boy. They’d never figured him to be the sucking sort of type.
The second time had been more expected. Draco walking in after class in a bad mood, a scowl on his face. A scowl that shattered when Blaise leaned himself against the wall, showing his neck, the Adam’s apple bobbing as he’d simply said, “…come here, Malfoy.” Draco had refused, but his eyes had never left Blaise’s. When the dark boy had beckoned again, sliding down the wall a little, legs splayed out to either side of the chair on front of him, Draco had needed no second call.
The third time Draco had walked in on Theodore Nott pawing at what he had called ‘his Blaise’. Zabini had regarded him as he’d accused them, a hand down Nott’s pants, and coolly explained ‘the situation’. Somehow Draco always ended up on his knees at the end of these exchanges. Something he convinced himself that he planned.
Just like how Draco told himself that he had planned to let Zabini and Nott snog in the library. He told himself that he had planned to have Blaise invade his room later that night, command him. Master him. He told himself that he liked it that way. That he was the one in control. He’d planned on screaming into the pillow, on the furrows that raked across his hips and thighs.
Draco Malfoy told himself that he had planned the tears that stung when Blaise had left, Theodore Nott at his side.
Title: Darkness and Crystal
Pairing: Harry/Draco Harry/Blaise
Summary: Harry tries to hold onto things too tightly sometimes.
Warnings: None that I can think of :D
Harry didn’t want what he couldn’t have. It was one of his more Slytherin traits, to grab onto something with both hands and try to walk off with it. Just as he had grabbed onto life, onto his friends, onto Quidditch. He’d tried to grab a hold of love the same way, only it kept slipping through his fingers.
Sometimes Harry adored the way that Blaise slid in and out of his embrace, brushing shoulders, or the linger smirk after they kissed. Sometimes he wanted to hear that mocking tone Blaise used when he called him ‘The Boy that Lived’.
Draco had called him ‘The Boy that Lived to be Fucked up the Ass’. Draco was like holding crystal, all angles and none of the same silky darkness that Blaise had. Draco was just as sharp as his words, up front in his passion.
Sometimes Harry hated Blaise’s darkness. The dark skin, dark lips, dark smile. The way that he didn’t stay past midnight, or the way that he seemed to live to embarrass Harry. Sometimes he wanted Blaise to leave him.
Harry had learned not to hold into Draco too tightly, because then he got cut. And he’d learned not to hold onto Blaise to tightly because then the other would slip through his fingers. He learned that not all love could be held with his hands, and that his heart was more delicate than his body.
Sometimes, Harry wanted something more substantial than darkness and softer than crystal.
Title: Shadow
Pairing: Harry/Draco [Blaise--->Draco]
Summary: Sometimes Blaise wants to be Draco's fire, instead he's his shadow.
Warnings: None :D
Blaise is Draco’s shadow. He isn’t stone like Crabbe and Goyle, nor is he the ivy that is Pansy, snaking her hands around and behind the Malfoy’ heir’s head. He will never twine fingers with Draco, nor will he press the boy against walls and have his way. Shadows don’t have any way except for the path given to them by their casters.
Harry Potter is Draco’s fire. He burns stone and scorches ivy. When Harry Potter is near Draco Blaise melts away because the Boy Who Lived cast just as much light as he does heat. When Draco is done getting burned he plays at Peter Pan, re-sewing his shadow to his feet. Stitching Blaise’s hands to his hips, taking what he wants.
Blaise always gives, because shadows never ask questions.
Sometimes, Blaise wonders why it would be like to be Draco’s fire, because fire only takes and never gives back.
Title: Sheets
Pairing: Blaise/Draco
Summary: Blaise gets Draco's sheets dirty.
Warnings: Er. Roughness, blood? Not very much, I swear. Er...Language
“You fuckin’ whore.” Draco Malfoy was not a happy person. He pointed to the sheets, the perfect white sheets. Or what had been perfect, except for the single droplet of red on one corner. Blaise Zabini, who was lounging on the opposing bed looked over, dark brown eyes regarding the spot.
“Its yours.” he said calmly, turning the page of his book. Which only lasted so long before the temperamental blonde ripped the book out of his grasp and threw it into the wall. Blaise watched with a coolly apathetic look, “…you should be more considerate of other people’s things, Malfoy.” Draco slapped him.
“And you should be more considered of other people’s sheets, Zabini.” The dark boy let the blow turn his head, a slow smirk forming on his face and he grabbed the blonde’s wrist. Tugging and twisting it so that the shorter boy ended up against his chest, the other hand went for the nearby dresser. Where he picked up an angular scoria stone, dragging it across the inside of the other’s wrist.
“Learn respect, Malfoy.” Blaise murmured, his voice strangely patient and vague, but his lips brushed against the other’s ear. His tongue sliding out to tease the earlobe, breath sending shivers down Draco’s spine. The scoria migrated up Draco’s arm, across his chest where it was viciously ground into one erect nipple, which caused the blonde to yelp and squirm. Blaise silenced him with a kiss, which earned him a bite on the lips.
“Learn your place, Zabini.” Draco retorted, knocking them both over onto the bed, yanking his wrist free and fought for the scoria in Blaise’s hand. The dark boy didn’t relinquish it without a fight, dragging Draco’s head down at an odd angle with a handful of hair. The Malfoy heir jabbed Blaise in the corner of the mouth with the stone, scraping skin. Then he kissed the other Slytherin, the rock pressed between their palms.
When Draco leaned back he spat bloody saliva onto the sheets.
“Fuckin’ whore.” He said again.
Title: Honor Thy Mother
Pairings: Light Harry/Blaise (OMG...I'm sorry its not Draco-Blaise!?)
Summary: Blaise honors his mother. And uses Harry Potter.
Warnings: Character death. Implied incest.
This fic feels incomplete to me, but I just had to stop....
“…There is no other in your eyes before your mother,” She intoned, fingers combing through his hair. Sliding down his neck, resting on his tie, tugging. He was eleven, she was almost three times his age by now, but she looked only twice his age. Her face was perfect, just like his. Her smile was not.
“There is no other in my eyes before my mother,” He repeated, their skin matched. Darker than tan but not as dark as ebony. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, patting his chest fondly.
“There is no one I love more than my mother.” She kissed him again, this time on the lips, her hand sliding underneath his shirt. Blaise’s breath hitched.
“…there..there is no one I love more…than my mother,” The boy gasped out.
~!~
Blaise sighed, fingers tangled in his lover’s hair.
“What are you thinking about?” Green eyes looked over at him, and pale hands followed, tracing spirals on his bare chest.
“…My mother.”
“Do you miss her?” Harry asked, a bit confused as to Blaise’s sigh.
“…Not in the least.”
~!~
"...if you learn to love you have to let go." He repeated his mother's lesson slowly, "If you learn to let go, then you can learn to follow. If you can follow, you can love without interruption."
"Do not be noticed, for that will attract attention to yourself. Do not attract attention to yourself for you will be forced into things you don't want. Give what you can without touching, for touching only leads to love."
"Do not love others before your mother." He whispered, "For her anger is greater than that of the Gods."
"...lastly. Use before you can be used."
~!~
Blaise had never been fond of the killing curse, instead he did it the muggle way, with his own two hands. He had wanted it to feel personal. To feel Harry Potter’s life slip away. To use, because he had been so sure Harry had been using him.
“…I’m home, mother.”
Title: Break
Pairings: Draco/Blaise
Summary: Draco could never break Blaise's heart, so he tried to break his body instead.
Warnings: er. Abuse? Its nothing too heavy, I swear.
(Again, it feels... unfinished)
Draco could never break Blaise’s heart. So he decided to break his body instead.
He could never tell when he had bruised Blaise, the violets and blues absorbed into dark flesh like they had never been there. So he went for burns instead, letting the skin pucker and curl around the tip of his wand, listening for the slight increase in breath. He wanted to break Zabini over his knee, except even that wouldn’t give him but the briefest of pleasures.
Draco wanted to hear Blaise scream, because pain was proof that you were alive.
Anyone could smile and laugh or pretend to care.
Draco wanted to feel Blaise’s scorn, because it was a human emotion.
He could never quite figure out what Blaise’s game was. The way that the would look at him, the way that he seemed to offer trust. And then the way that he fought back, just enough to make Draco work for it. Just enough that they both drew blood, and just enough that Draco drew more. Just enough, like the way that he smiled, hinting at it behind the smirk.
Draco wanted Blaise to laugh, because he never did.
He could break Blaise’s neck, Draco mused. Or strangle him, both hands wrapped around the slender dark neck in front of him. Slanted eyes regarded him the same way they always did, waiting. If this was checkmate then Draco was sorely confused, because they were both pawns and the king was nowhere in sight. He only saw part of the board, and only too late realized that Blaise’s body was a pawn, and his mind the queen.
Draco could never understand Blaise. So he stopped trying.
Title: Secret Keeper
Pairings: Harry/Blaise, Draco/Blaise [Mentions Ginny.]
Summary: Blaise is Harry's secret keeper.
Warnings: None?
I.
Blaise kept the best secrets. The way that he wore his shirt, the collar ruffled, stiff, peaked. The way he moved, kept his sleeves at his wrists. The way that he was never caught after hours moving from one House to another. The way that he lied to Ginny when she caught him with a handful of Potter’s hair, tongue shoved down the other boy’s throat. Even if Harry had a sore lip the next day, and Blaise a sore cheek because Ginny had slapped him. And detention and threats of expulsion. Molesting the golden boy indeed. Blaise was Harry Potter’s secret keeper.
II.
Blackmail was a form of communication in the Slytherin Common Room. It was the only way to get close to the truth. Draco Malfoy had some particularly good truth in front of him. Snakes and lions don’t mix. He’d said. Neither do snakes and snakes. Blaise had replied.
Malfoy proved him wrong.
III.
Blaise kept the best secrets. Rolled and coiled around a lion, draped across a dragon’s back. Caught between two Houses after hours, using and being used. Blaise was Harry Potter’s secret keeper, and Draco his confidant.
So, all and all I fail at smuttyness XDDD;;;