title: non, je ne regrette rien
author : kiarax27
rating: M
a/n: very short and slightly incoherent. i'm not entirely sure what this is, but i like it nonetheless. also, the gg fandom is severely lacking in blerena fic!
anywho, enjoy please~
x
looking back on it, blair realized what had happened was pretty much inevitable.
she's wasn't immune to serena's charms, her infectious laughter, her long limps, the pink of her lips when she smiled so brightly it blinded everyone within a two foot radius.
blair's always felt like she never matched serena, like she never shone as brightly, but that was never true.
blair was bright and sparkly like rubies, but deep and passionate and dangerous where serena was all diamonds and sunshine and glittery shadows.
they were opposites, the perfect duo, the society queens and fashion icons since nannies on park avenue and louis vuitton for kids. but while serena and blair danced around men with hugo boss suits and sharp cheekbones, all they really wanted was each other. smooth limbs, and round breasts and mouths covered in shiny, sticky lipgloss.
x
"he never deserved you." serena pets blair's head quietly, silently, saying i'm here, i love you, notice me, tell me you love me too.
"i know. i just..." blair winds her fingers through serena's other hand, feeling out the softness of her golden skin. i've always loved you. i just don't know how.
x
serena spins, spins, spins in front of blair's gilded mirror, bought and imported from god knows where at a price that could touch the sky it's so high.
"i like pink really. i think it brings out my tan." serena giggles demurely, keeping her blinding smile hidden by her peachy lips.
"you perpetually tanned. you're so fucking lucky." blair rolls her eyes and keeps watching serena's dress fly upwords and reveal her lacy pink la perla's, her face semi buried in an old french vogue, trying to be discreet.
serena spins harder, let's her dress lash out farther, gives blair a good look because she's knows she watching, but will never ever ever ask to touch. no matter how badly she and serena both want her to.
x
"serena, serena, we should stop - i don't - i don't think we're thinking right - oof!" blair's head slams back against the door in her bedroom, while serena's hot lips trail open mouthed kisses down her neck and into the dip in her cleavage.
they're drunk, spectacularly smashed into oblivion, shots of vodka and patron drumming through their veins alongside the blood.
serena is too gone to stop herself, her walls are down and she'll never try to force them back up now. blair is warm and close and soft pressed up into her, letting out little breathy moans as serena's lips suck deep purple marks into her neck that will be there for days, and serena can look at them and think mine mine mine.
blair's halfhearted pleas to stop have turned completely into high gasps and low moans and her hips are pressing themselves up into serena's own and their skin is hot like fire, burning through the barely there layers of sparkly dresses they'd shimmed themselves into hours ago.
soon enough, serena has blair naked and glorious, all ivory skin and smooth curves and small freckles on her hipbones that serena's wanted to lick her whole life. their chests are pressed together, and they're panting heavily into each other's mouth, sweat slick between them and serena's curling her fingers just right and blair's throwing her head back and exposing the pale long lines of her neck and screaming out her orgasm.
serena's in heaven.
serena's in love.
x
fin
