drabbles for gossip_girl100 prompt#o3.Smoke&Ash
Burns
Chuck/Blair/Nate : R
She gasps the cloud of smoke.
She walks faster to keep up with them as they hop up her stairs.
Brown eyes travel from backside to backside.
They reach her room before she does, the two already tearing off each others clothes.
Chuck shoves Nate to the bed, looming over him and she watches.
It's like some sick sport for him, and she enjoys being the only crowd.
"Blair, come join us," he whispers, voice smooth like smoke.
"I wasn't waiting for an invitation," she snaps, fingers curling in Chuck's hair. "This is my room, after all."
She gasps the cloud of smoke, ash burning her.
////Sneak
Chuck/Blair/Nate : R
Smoke fills the room; pretends to sleep.
She pretends she's in an old french movie (takes a drag from the glowing cigarette).
She should feel as if she's won the fight (an independent woman).
Instead, she bleakly stares at the empty spots on her bed, wondering why she thought they'd stay.
Doesn't everyone leave?
Laying on her bed, she shuts her eyes (wiping away everything).
The ember shines brightly, ash burns her skin.
The room is bathed in black and white, the only sound is flesh against flesh.
She breathes in, untouched cigarette in hand.
Smoke fills the room; pretends to sleep.
(They sneak out the door).
//////
Goodnight Nate
Nate : PG13
He exhaled the smoke.
He exhaled the smoke, eyes unfocused.
Faint images were present, morphing into people he had no desire to see.
“Nate, this is…well I hope you know who it is. I’ll just assume you’re late, but I can’t wait to see y-Chuck go away- see you.”
He placed the phone down on the table, staring at the blonde before him. The joint slowly disappeared as everything turned into a colorful mess.
He wasn’t addicted; couldn’t be addicted.
“I just called to say… even you know how much I wanted you to be here. I guess…nothing matters to you anymore. Goodnight Nate."
/////
Fogged Glasses
Nate/Chuck : R
Lips latch onto lips.
Awkward hands explore burning flesh.
Lips latch onto lips; a secret lifeline that only they’ll know.
Smoke rises into the air, lazily curling around the naked teens.
Names slur into moans and all human intellect is abandoned for pure animalistic lust.
Muscles bunch under skin as he holds him against the wall, biting at sweaty skin.
Fingers curl in brown locks, tighter and tighter as something roars in him.
Eyes are blurry; everything’s like looking through fogged glasses.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever take them off.
A gasp; head’s thrown back against the wall (ignores the pain).
Smoke curls lazily.
/////////
Elegant
Chuck/Blair : PG13
A long elegant puff.
A long elegant puff.
She’s coughing violently, smoke coming in dark clouds.
“And this is why little girls aren’t supposed to be bad,” he chides in her ear.
Opening her eyes, she glares at him.
The glare melts away and she’s laughing, kissing him.
“Well…I think I like you on a mellow high,” he murmurs, throat rumbling with a laugh.
Small hands touch every inch of flesh she can find, emitting small giggles along the way.
Part of her feels like a fool, but she can’t think of anything but the feel of his skin.
“I love you,” she laughs.
//////////
Midnight
Blair/Jack : PG13
She just needed to control.
She just needed to control.
The Queen had no throne, and she needed a King.
Just for one night.
He tips the ash onto the table, watching with darkened eyes.
Brown curls tumble down her shoulders, bare shoulders.
That lead to barer skin.
The clock chimes twelve and he leans in closer, arm looping around her waist.
"It's so nice to know you need me," he murmurs, lips dragging across the pale flesh.
She doesn't speak, fingers tilting his head up.
With a frown, she shuts her eyes.
She doesn't need to see this, isn't sure she wants to.
"Jack."
////////////
Temptress
Blair/Jack : PG13
Doesn't spare a single glance.
She doesn’t look at him (doesn’t spare a single glance).
Cigarette butts are smashed into the ground around him (not potent enough for a high).
She smoothes his nephew’s hair, a relieved smile on her face.
He hates it, wonders why he never got that smile.
“It’s nice to have you back,” she whispers, unlike the cruel temptress who seduced him before the clock chimed twelve and she turned back into a pumpkin.
An annoyed sigh, children, and she looked up, smirking.
The Bass heir doesn’t, eyes closed.
“Shouldn’t you be going now?” Blair questions, voice cold and unforgiving.
Temptress.
//////////
New Years
Blair/Jack : PG13
Scream for him.
Words are blurred through thick, black smoke.
Boundaries become nothing and he breathes her in.
Captures her; she’ll scream for help.
Scream for him.
Insults infuriate him (he’ll destroy her).
He’ll plan, manipulate (she’ll crawl to him).
Smoke turns to ash, she cries.
She won’t speak (ever).
He takes a long, hard drag from the cigar.
Glances out the window, screams ignite from every room around them.
Light reflects off all available surface.
It’s like their own magical world and she’s the firefly.
“Happy New Years, my dear.”
She only retches in reply.
////////////
Flowers
Blair/Chuck : PG13
A hand moves for the blindfold, he stops her.
"Everyone believed in you...but yourself. How can I want to be with someone like that?"
He sighs because the truth is the truth, and she'll censor her words for him.
A flick of the joint and smoke blocks his vision.
He'd rather not see anything...anymore.
A deceitful uncle (he didn't matter) and someone who he should've loved more then he did.
Colors fade to black and their hands turn to hers.
A hand moves for the blindfold, he stops her.
"I'd rather not see you," he murmurs.
He'll pretend dull blond is thick brown.
"Thanks for the flowers."
Chuck/Blair/Nate : R
She gasps the cloud of smoke.
She walks faster to keep up with them as they hop up her stairs.
Brown eyes travel from backside to backside.
They reach her room before she does, the two already tearing off each others clothes.
Chuck shoves Nate to the bed, looming over him and she watches.
It's like some sick sport for him, and she enjoys being the only crowd.
"Blair, come join us," he whispers, voice smooth like smoke.
"I wasn't waiting for an invitation," she snaps, fingers curling in Chuck's hair. "This is my room, after all."
She gasps the cloud of smoke, ash burning her.
////Sneak
Chuck/Blair/Nate : R
Smoke fills the room; pretends to sleep.
She pretends she's in an old french movie (takes a drag from the glowing cigarette).
She should feel as if she's won the fight (an independent woman).
Instead, she bleakly stares at the empty spots on her bed, wondering why she thought they'd stay.
Doesn't everyone leave?
Laying on her bed, she shuts her eyes (wiping away everything).
The ember shines brightly, ash burns her skin.
The room is bathed in black and white, the only sound is flesh against flesh.
She breathes in, untouched cigarette in hand.
Smoke fills the room; pretends to sleep.
(They sneak out the door).
//////
Goodnight Nate
Nate : PG13
He exhaled the smoke.
He exhaled the smoke, eyes unfocused.
Faint images were present, morphing into people he had no desire to see.
“Nate, this is…well I hope you know who it is. I’ll just assume you’re late, but I can’t wait to see y-Chuck go away- see you.”
He placed the phone down on the table, staring at the blonde before him. The joint slowly disappeared as everything turned into a colorful mess.
He wasn’t addicted; couldn’t be addicted.
“I just called to say… even you know how much I wanted you to be here. I guess…nothing matters to you anymore. Goodnight Nate."
/////
Fogged Glasses
Nate/Chuck : R
Lips latch onto lips.
Awkward hands explore burning flesh.
Lips latch onto lips; a secret lifeline that only they’ll know.
Smoke rises into the air, lazily curling around the naked teens.
Names slur into moans and all human intellect is abandoned for pure animalistic lust.
Muscles bunch under skin as he holds him against the wall, biting at sweaty skin.
Fingers curl in brown locks, tighter and tighter as something roars in him.
Eyes are blurry; everything’s like looking through fogged glasses.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever take them off.
A gasp; head’s thrown back against the wall (ignores the pain).
Smoke curls lazily.
/////////
Elegant
Chuck/Blair : PG13
A long elegant puff.
A long elegant puff.
She’s coughing violently, smoke coming in dark clouds.
“And this is why little girls aren’t supposed to be bad,” he chides in her ear.
Opening her eyes, she glares at him.
The glare melts away and she’s laughing, kissing him.
“Well…I think I like you on a mellow high,” he murmurs, throat rumbling with a laugh.
Small hands touch every inch of flesh she can find, emitting small giggles along the way.
Part of her feels like a fool, but she can’t think of anything but the feel of his skin.
“I love you,” she laughs.
//////////
Midnight
Blair/Jack : PG13
She just needed to control.
She just needed to control.
The Queen had no throne, and she needed a King.
Just for one night.
He tips the ash onto the table, watching with darkened eyes.
Brown curls tumble down her shoulders, bare shoulders.
That lead to barer skin.
The clock chimes twelve and he leans in closer, arm looping around her waist.
"It's so nice to know you need me," he murmurs, lips dragging across the pale flesh.
She doesn't speak, fingers tilting his head up.
With a frown, she shuts her eyes.
She doesn't need to see this, isn't sure she wants to.
"Jack."
////////////
Temptress
Blair/Jack : PG13
Doesn't spare a single glance.
She doesn’t look at him (doesn’t spare a single glance).
Cigarette butts are smashed into the ground around him (not potent enough for a high).
She smoothes his nephew’s hair, a relieved smile on her face.
He hates it, wonders why he never got that smile.
“It’s nice to have you back,” she whispers, unlike the cruel temptress who seduced him before the clock chimed twelve and she turned back into a pumpkin.
An annoyed sigh, children, and she looked up, smirking.
The Bass heir doesn’t, eyes closed.
“Shouldn’t you be going now?” Blair questions, voice cold and unforgiving.
Temptress.
//////////
New Years
Blair/Jack : PG13
Scream for him.
Words are blurred through thick, black smoke.
Boundaries become nothing and he breathes her in.
Captures her; she’ll scream for help.
Scream for him.
Insults infuriate him (he’ll destroy her).
He’ll plan, manipulate (she’ll crawl to him).
Smoke turns to ash, she cries.
She won’t speak (ever).
He takes a long, hard drag from the cigar.
Glances out the window, screams ignite from every room around them.
Light reflects off all available surface.
It’s like their own magical world and she’s the firefly.
“Happy New Years, my dear.”
She only retches in reply.
////////////
Flowers
Blair/Chuck : PG13
A hand moves for the blindfold, he stops her.
"Everyone believed in you...but yourself. How can I want to be with someone like that?"
He sighs because the truth is the truth, and she'll censor her words for him.
A flick of the joint and smoke blocks his vision.
He'd rather not see anything...anymore.
A deceitful uncle (he didn't matter) and someone who he should've loved more then he did.
Colors fade to black and their hands turn to hers.
A hand moves for the blindfold, he stops her.
"I'd rather not see you," he murmurs.
He'll pretend dull blond is thick brown.
"Thanks for the flowers."