Gossip Girl fic | Feel The Same | Blair/Chuck | NC-17 | ~1500 words | One shot
Feel The Same
Blair/Chuck | NC-17 | ~ 1500 words
"No," Blair says. "I'm not without a date."
Set after the second season finale.
Big thanks to wearemany and strongplacebo! ♥
Eleanor says, "Saturday night. I can't trust that you'll pick out a dress for yourself, but will you also need help finding a date?"
Blair smiles with just the corners of her mouth. "If you're offering to let me wear something from your spring line, then yes, of course, mother, I'd be delighted. The colours looked slightly garish on the runway, but that probably says something more about the models you chose than the clothing."
"Slim-fit is in this year, but I'm sure we'll be able to figure some way to make it work for you. Are you going to bring Nate? I can never remember if you're still together."
"I dumped him," Blair says.
Eleanor lifts one shoulder with a sideways sweep of her eyes. "Does that mean you are without a date?"
"No," Blair says. "I'm not without a date."
--
She is without an answer however, sliding her phone shut as once again his line goes to voicemail. Chuck always answers, so obviously his phone has run out of batteries, and she'll have to go in person to ask him. She sets her phone onto the vanity table and reaches over to turn on the light.
Blair taps her foundation brush lightly over the edge of the jar, holds it up before reconsidering. Her skin's been looking blotchy lately. Makeup brushes carry bacteria. She bought new mineral foundation but didn't buy a replacement brush. She doesn't remember the last timeDorota cleaned her brushes. She said that they were supposed to be washed once a week, but she's not always around to supervise so it's impossible to tell what actually happens.
Blair reaches forward across her vanity and catches all of her brushes in a fist, lifting them out of the vase. She tosses them down into the garbage can, pushes the foundation brush she was holding over the edge, then the jar of foundation as well. She dipped in with the dirty brush; it's no good now.
She walks over to the bathroom and plugs the curling iron in then returns to her vanity table, searching for another bottle of foundation and a makeup sponge.
--
Blair knocks on Chuck's door and pushes her way inside when he cracks it open.
"Come right in," Chuck says, trailing after her. "I was just about to take a bubble bath, if you wanted to head in that direction."
Blair rolls her eyes and walks over to the couch.
"The bathroom is farther that way," Chuck says with a tilt of his head. "Not that I'm opposed to the couch, as you know." He smiles slowly at Blair. "It's just that the bathtub is so warm and slippery and-- wet."
Chuck crosses the room with measured steps and sits down on the couch beside her. He reaches out and starts sliding his fingers up her leg, pulling the hem of her dress higher as he goes.
"Maybe you're right," he says once his fingers brush against the edge of her underwear. "It's plenty wet on the couch."
Blair clamps her thighs together and starts trying to pull his hand away, her fingers tight around his wrist.
"Desperate much?" she snaps, and digs her thumbnail in a little harder. "Forty-five seconds and you're already pawing at me."
She can hear sounds from the other side of Chuck's suite, and for a moment she thinks that someone is there, but, no. Chuck said he was having a bath; the sounds are running water. Maybe that's why he couldn't hear his phone ringing.
"My mother's having a party on Saturday," Blair says.
"A party for what?"
"For people to attend," Blair says. "I don't know. Saturday is the important part."
Chuck makes a sound low in his throat and when he starts moving his fingers again, Blair doesn't try to stop him.
"Are you going to join me in the tub?" Chuck asks.
Blair spent forty-five minutes curling loose ringlets into her hair. She says, "How dirty are you that you can't wait another fifteen minutes?"
"Fifteen minutes? Are you in a rush?"
"I'm realistic," Blair says, pressing her lips together as she smiles.
Chuck quirks one side of his mouth up, and suddenly his hands are grabbing hard around her hips, pulling her forward. She tips backward, catching herself on the back of the couch, when Chuck yanks.
There's not enough room for Chuck to settle between her legs, even though she hooks her ankle over the back of the couch, and he says, "I'm not going onto the floor, so we might as well use the bed."
Chuck pries away the sheets, tucked tightly under the mattress, and lounges while Blair drapes her dress carefully over the back of a chair so that she won't have to go back home wearing wrinkled clothes. She walks across the room and stands in front of the bed, her hands loose at her sides, shoulders pulled back. She lifts one leg, the one further away from Chuck so that he will be able to see the skin of her inner thigh, and touches her toes to the bed, slowly starts rolling down her stocking. She waits for Chuck to leer appropriately before climbing up beside him.
Blair opens her mouth when Chuck kisses her. He never uses too much tongue, but he holds her face between his dry palms and before long she tries to push him onto his back. He moves his hands away but doesn't roll onto the bed, instead starts sliding down between her legs.
"These are pretty," he says, touching her panties with the tips of all four fingers.
Blair says, "I know." She pushes at her hair until it's fanning across the pillow instead of trapped under her head. She lifts her hips while Chuck pulls her panties down.
Chuck puts his mouth on her pussy and Blair doesn't know if she should make noise. Nate never tried this. Serena can come just from being fucked and Nate had sex with Serena before he had sex with Blair, and maybe he thought Blair can orgasm like that but she can't.
Chuck lifts his head, says, "You like it," his voice low and teasing. He smirks at her and Blair wants to push him away and she wants to push him back down and she wishes that this part was over already. Chuck always makes her come first, like he's still trying to prove something. Like being her first isn't enough. Like she isn't going to remember that he's the only guy who's ever made her come with his tongue.
Blair sets her heels further apart on the bed, her thighs flexing open wider.
Chuck says, "Eager," and Blair keeps quiet, stares up at the intricate light fixture in the centre of the ceiling. Chuck licks with just the tip of his tongue and Blair decides that if he tries to tease she's going to fake it.
It seems like it takes forever, but Blair does come. She goes silent as she gets close, holds her breath and hopes that Chuck will stay right there, will keep moving his tongue like that, licking firmly, and he does. He licks right over herclit, hard enough that the pleasure feels sharp. When she finally finishes coming, Blair's head feels dizzy.
Chuck grins up at her, the lower half of his face wet and slimy, and she rolls her eyes, looking away pointedly until he wipes at his chin.
Blair can still smell herself on his skin when he fucks her, his knees on the bed in between her legs, his forearms braced on either side of her shoulders. She tips her head forward and breathes into his neck instead, where the scent of his cologne is stronger.
Maybe she should do more than just lie on her back, but it's late afternoon and she's still languid from her orgasm. Chuck's been with gymnasts and models and sometimes Blair thinks she has something to prove and sometimes she can't be bothered to try. She feels sated right now, lying on Chuck's bed while he fucks her. She stretches out her arms out to the sides but can't reach the edge of the mattress.
When Blair looks up, Chuck is staring at the headboard. His cheeks are flushed and the line of his jaw is sharp and even though she's already gotten what she wanted, she still wants. She rocks up a little, trying to hurry him along.
He smokes while she puts her clothes on. There's a crease down side of her skirt where the fabric folded in on itself, but for the most part she puts herself back together. Her stockings are on the floor by the bed, and she leaves them lying there, two puddles of silk for housekeeping to throw away.
Blair says, "So, Saturday."
Chuck takes a long time inhaling. He lifts his chin and blows smoke at the ceiling, one hand pressed flat across his breastbone. She wonders if she should look bored or impatient while she is waiting for his answer. She should have finished the conversation before taking her clothes off.
Chuck finally raises his eyebrows, and Blair says, "It's formal. You should be there by eight," grabs her purse and walks out of his bedroom without waiting for an answer.
Blair/Chuck | NC-17 | ~ 1500 words
"No," Blair says. "I'm not without a date."
Set after the second season finale.
Big thanks to wearemany and strongplacebo! ♥
Eleanor says, "Saturday night. I can't trust that you'll pick out a dress for yourself, but will you also need help finding a date?"
Blair smiles with just the corners of her mouth. "If you're offering to let me wear something from your spring line, then yes, of course, mother, I'd be delighted. The colours looked slightly garish on the runway, but that probably says something more about the models you chose than the clothing."
"Slim-fit is in this year, but I'm sure we'll be able to figure some way to make it work for you. Are you going to bring Nate? I can never remember if you're still together."
"I dumped him," Blair says.
Eleanor lifts one shoulder with a sideways sweep of her eyes. "Does that mean you are without a date?"
"No," Blair says. "I'm not without a date."
--
She is without an answer however, sliding her phone shut as once again his line goes to voicemail. Chuck always answers, so obviously his phone has run out of batteries, and she'll have to go in person to ask him. She sets her phone onto the vanity table and reaches over to turn on the light.
Blair taps her foundation brush lightly over the edge of the jar, holds it up before reconsidering. Her skin's been looking blotchy lately. Makeup brushes carry bacteria. She bought new mineral foundation but didn't buy a replacement brush. She doesn't remember the last timeDorota cleaned her brushes. She said that they were supposed to be washed once a week, but she's not always around to supervise so it's impossible to tell what actually happens.
Blair reaches forward across her vanity and catches all of her brushes in a fist, lifting them out of the vase. She tosses them down into the garbage can, pushes the foundation brush she was holding over the edge, then the jar of foundation as well. She dipped in with the dirty brush; it's no good now.
She walks over to the bathroom and plugs the curling iron in then returns to her vanity table, searching for another bottle of foundation and a makeup sponge.
--
Blair knocks on Chuck's door and pushes her way inside when he cracks it open.
"Come right in," Chuck says, trailing after her. "I was just about to take a bubble bath, if you wanted to head in that direction."
Blair rolls her eyes and walks over to the couch.
"The bathroom is farther that way," Chuck says with a tilt of his head. "Not that I'm opposed to the couch, as you know." He smiles slowly at Blair. "It's just that the bathtub is so warm and slippery and-- wet."
Chuck crosses the room with measured steps and sits down on the couch beside her. He reaches out and starts sliding his fingers up her leg, pulling the hem of her dress higher as he goes.
"Maybe you're right," he says once his fingers brush against the edge of her underwear. "It's plenty wet on the couch."
Blair clamps her thighs together and starts trying to pull his hand away, her fingers tight around his wrist.
"Desperate much?" she snaps, and digs her thumbnail in a little harder. "Forty-five seconds and you're already pawing at me."
She can hear sounds from the other side of Chuck's suite, and for a moment she thinks that someone is there, but, no. Chuck said he was having a bath; the sounds are running water. Maybe that's why he couldn't hear his phone ringing.
"My mother's having a party on Saturday," Blair says.
"A party for what?"
"For people to attend," Blair says. "I don't know. Saturday is the important part."
Chuck makes a sound low in his throat and when he starts moving his fingers again, Blair doesn't try to stop him.
"Are you going to join me in the tub?" Chuck asks.
Blair spent forty-five minutes curling loose ringlets into her hair. She says, "How dirty are you that you can't wait another fifteen minutes?"
"Fifteen minutes? Are you in a rush?"
"I'm realistic," Blair says, pressing her lips together as she smiles.
Chuck quirks one side of his mouth up, and suddenly his hands are grabbing hard around her hips, pulling her forward. She tips backward, catching herself on the back of the couch, when Chuck yanks.
There's not enough room for Chuck to settle between her legs, even though she hooks her ankle over the back of the couch, and he says, "I'm not going onto the floor, so we might as well use the bed."
Chuck pries away the sheets, tucked tightly under the mattress, and lounges while Blair drapes her dress carefully over the back of a chair so that she won't have to go back home wearing wrinkled clothes. She walks across the room and stands in front of the bed, her hands loose at her sides, shoulders pulled back. She lifts one leg, the one further away from Chuck so that he will be able to see the skin of her inner thigh, and touches her toes to the bed, slowly starts rolling down her stocking. She waits for Chuck to leer appropriately before climbing up beside him.
Blair opens her mouth when Chuck kisses her. He never uses too much tongue, but he holds her face between his dry palms and before long she tries to push him onto his back. He moves his hands away but doesn't roll onto the bed, instead starts sliding down between her legs.
"These are pretty," he says, touching her panties with the tips of all four fingers.
Blair says, "I know." She pushes at her hair until it's fanning across the pillow instead of trapped under her head. She lifts her hips while Chuck pulls her panties down.
Chuck puts his mouth on her pussy and Blair doesn't know if she should make noise. Nate never tried this. Serena can come just from being fucked and Nate had sex with Serena before he had sex with Blair, and maybe he thought Blair can orgasm like that but she can't.
Chuck lifts his head, says, "You like it," his voice low and teasing. He smirks at her and Blair wants to push him away and she wants to push him back down and she wishes that this part was over already. Chuck always makes her come first, like he's still trying to prove something. Like being her first isn't enough. Like she isn't going to remember that he's the only guy who's ever made her come with his tongue.
Blair sets her heels further apart on the bed, her thighs flexing open wider.
Chuck says, "Eager," and Blair keeps quiet, stares up at the intricate light fixture in the centre of the ceiling. Chuck licks with just the tip of his tongue and Blair decides that if he tries to tease she's going to fake it.
It seems like it takes forever, but Blair does come. She goes silent as she gets close, holds her breath and hopes that Chuck will stay right there, will keep moving his tongue like that, licking firmly, and he does. He licks right over herclit, hard enough that the pleasure feels sharp. When she finally finishes coming, Blair's head feels dizzy.
Chuck grins up at her, the lower half of his face wet and slimy, and she rolls her eyes, looking away pointedly until he wipes at his chin.
Blair can still smell herself on his skin when he fucks her, his knees on the bed in between her legs, his forearms braced on either side of her shoulders. She tips her head forward and breathes into his neck instead, where the scent of his cologne is stronger.
Maybe she should do more than just lie on her back, but it's late afternoon and she's still languid from her orgasm. Chuck's been with gymnasts and models and sometimes Blair thinks she has something to prove and sometimes she can't be bothered to try. She feels sated right now, lying on Chuck's bed while he fucks her. She stretches out her arms out to the sides but can't reach the edge of the mattress.
When Blair looks up, Chuck is staring at the headboard. His cheeks are flushed and the line of his jaw is sharp and even though she's already gotten what she wanted, she still wants. She rocks up a little, trying to hurry him along.
He smokes while she puts her clothes on. There's a crease down side of her skirt where the fabric folded in on itself, but for the most part she puts herself back together. Her stockings are on the floor by the bed, and she leaves them lying there, two puddles of silk for housekeeping to throw away.
Blair says, "So, Saturday."
Chuck takes a long time inhaling. He lifts his chin and blows smoke at the ceiling, one hand pressed flat across his breastbone. She wonders if she should look bored or impatient while she is waiting for his answer. She should have finished the conversation before taking her clothes off.
Chuck finally raises his eyebrows, and Blair says, "It's formal. You should be there by eight," grabs her purse and walks out of his bedroom without waiting for an answer.