A/N: This was inspired of 3.15 of Buffy, but it isn't one of those quote fics. I don't know, its just different. By the title, you should know immediately this is not one of my more light hearted fics. I don't know if I would call it dark or mature, but its definitely not for everyone. Its sort of like my Dirt fic. He doesn't hit her or anything, but read the quote at the bottom and you'll get it.

Summary: It was good, wasn't it? The sex. The danger. I bet a part of you even dug it when he went psycho.

Disclaimer: Quote goes to Buffy, and characters go to GG. I owe everything to comewhatmay.x who beta-ed this for me and gave me the courage to post something that wasn't exactly conventional.

It was something that she used to attempt to hide. The unforgiving traits of lusting for the kill. She never really knew what an aphrodisiac meant until him. Those girls crumpled with humiliation and he gave her that lascivious wink. Then they were screwing against walls in restaurants like no good society girl should do.

She never thought someone would love her for it.

Until him.


No one knew the Chuck that she knew. It was nauseating, watching him with that perfect size zero and how cultured and wondrous she was. It made her ill to think that everything she had felt was nothing. She couldn't count the number of times she told him that it was the end.

It was when watching him with some French stick that she realized it was the only way. Her brain couldn't handle the knowledge that they would be together again one day. He hurt her so she convinced herself that they would never be again. They just had to be apart for awhile so they could be together again. He brain couldn't accept that it was always them. But her heart always knew. Always felt.

Now she wasn't so sure.

He had moved on with the perfect girl. It was over.

Until it wasn't.


"You sure?"

To be quite honest, she really wasn't. It wasn't that she was afraid that it would hurt (it did) or that he was something dangerous and new (he was.) None of that mattered because she could hurt him just as much and scare him just as easily.

She wasn't sure because she was afraid that she had never seen it before. Seen just how right they seemed. She had never seen his eyes darken with lust. She never realized he was just as evil and pure as she was.

She never realized how much she wanted it.

She kissed him.

She kissed him because that was the only answer she had. It wasn't no. But yes wasn't the right answer either. Because she couldn't have possibly understood what was to come. And how deep they would both dig into each other. To taste each other's blood and writhe in each other's ecstasy. She couldn't possibly have known.

But she did.

She kissed him and she cried and she bled and then it was over. He was staring at her and she felt sticky and uncomfortable.

So she left.

"Sleeping with him once, I understand, but twice?"

It hadn't happened like that. He just showed up and whispered how he wanted to see her in the light that they hadn't had in the limo.

It was the most flattering thing anyone had ever said to her.

"What? Blair, you slept with him?"

That was when she knew that she could never tell Serena anything ever again. It just wouldn't work.

She slept with him again. She just couldn't help herself. She didn't know what it was about it until she didn't have it anymore.

"Don't talk to me."


It was the danger. It was the sex. It was exhilarating and she wanted more.

But she couldn't.

He had winked at her and she knew she shouldn't be feeling these things. Marcus was gone and the pain of him abandoning her was a distant memory. It was the thing about Chuck&Blair. There was pain. But there was something in her brain that made her forget about it mere months later. Like it never even existed.

That was how she knew she could survive him. That was how she knew they were forever.

Serena was looking at her again.

"What?" Blair snapped, edging her way through the crowd of Lily's party. Meaning that hair standing up on the back of her neck was the result of Chuck staring at her. She had come back from her visit to Yale, (which he happened to be attending) her relationship with Serena back intact and she hadn't realized that hers with Chuck had strangely done the same.

"Remember what you said to me when you came back from France?" Serena asked.


"'Damn that Mother Chucker'," Serena said. "That's a direct quote."

"Your point?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything," Blair said, trying to lose her and Serena in the crowd so those damn eyes would stop staring at her.

Even if she sort of liked it.

"You might not be doing anything directly," Serena said. "But you're not discouraging him either."

"What would you have me do?" Blair asked desperately. "I already left him while going off with my boyfriend."

"Then-boyfriend," Serena couldn't help but correct. Blair shrugged. It didn't matter. Really, it never had. "Tell him there's not a chance."

Blair found that she had suddenly gone mute.

"Now that you don't have that fake boyfriend anymore."

She still couldn't get her tongue to work.

"Right, B?" Serena asked. "I mean, you're not seriously considering..."

There really was nothing to say.

"Blair," Serena said. "You cannot even think about taking him back."

"I'm not," Blair insisted. "But these things are sort of hard to plan."

"What?" Serena asked. "You and Chuck?"

"The first time we were together was in the back of a moving vehicle," Blair said. "I lost my virginity. Yes. I am saying Chuck and I are really hard to plan."

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you always smile whenever someone even mentions his name," Serena reminded her.

"If you care so much," Blair said, "why don't you just go tell him?"

"Why me?"

"Because he wouldn't believe me," Blair muttered.

"And why is that?"

Serena didn't sound demanding anymore. Just sort of curious. Blair looked back at her.

Nothing to say again. He had that effect on her.

"Was that it?" Serena asked.

"Was what it?"

"The reason that whole thing... happened," Serena mustered. "I mean, what was it?"

Blair really had to think. Because whenever she was with him, she was in danger of that.

Not thinking.

It was what led to a burlesque strip tease and rolling around in the back seat. Only one word came to mind.

"Danger," Blair smirked. "It was...intoxicating."

"I don't know what that's like."

Serena almost sounded upset about it.

"Yes you do," Blair answered dryly. "Sleeping with someone else's boyfriend when she's in the same hotel seems pretty dangerous to me."

Serena colored remarkably. "Not like that."

"No," Blair murmured to herself. "Not like that."

Because there was nothing like it.

And then he did that thing. That thing where he just appeared like the Devil Himself whenever she was thinking of him.

He knew it too. He smirked at her, with his pointed gaze.

"Hello, ladies."

"Go away, Chuck," Serena said in annoyance. Blair was starting to think it wasn't because Serena cared about her at all. For once, she was the one who was envied. And it wasn't because Serena wanted Chuck. That would never happen. Because she couldn't feel what Blair felt.

No one could.

"Trash talking me again, Sis?" he teased. Serena glowered and walked away, leaving Blair to fend for herself in the den of the beasts.

"Alone again."

"Except for the fact that we're in a room full of people," Blair retorted smartly. She tried to edge past him.

He was having none of that. His hand caught her wrist.

"I had a dream about you last night," he said throatily into her ear and she stilled beneath his touch. "One of many."

"Oh?" she couldn't help but find herself asking.

"Do you want to hear it?" he asked. She trembled and he chuckled deeply as her hair stirred. "I think you do. We were in an abandoned house and the harder I slammed you against the wall the more the house fell apart. That doesn't even count the time we finished what we started during that blackout up against a wall. We didn't even make it to the bed."

Blair forced herself to tear away from him, knowing that she couldn't trust he self control at this point.

"There were handcuffs involved," he continued smugly before leaning to whisper in her ear again. "I'm game if you are."

"I'll see you around," Blair said instead, turning to walk away.

"I'm counting on it," he said after her. "And that wasn't a 'no,' either."


Something within him just snapped. She was ignoring him, walking around like she hated him when he knew that she just missed him.

The old him. The him that would yank her hair and ravish her and leave her for dead. He couldn't be that person. Not after what he had done. So she went around hating him for leaving. But it was the right thing to do.

Until it wasn't anymore.

She left.

Not the she that he would love inevitably and passionately and painfully until he would have to impale himself from all of the ecstasy but the she that was his nice partner to the nice person he had to be.

She left.

Suddenly he wasn't that nice person anymore. Suddenly he was heaving and needing and wanting. Suddenly he went in a radically different direction.

It was when he woke up surrounded by coke and unfamiliar lingerie did he really realize what was happening. He didn't understand that he had snapped. He didn't understand where his life was headed. From the moment he opened his eyes, he was meant for her. He was born for her, to be hers, to be dominated by her, to bleed her, suck her dry, kill her.

Love her.


She opened the door.

The she that he was needing and wanting and having. It was the she that he would kill and screw and love all at the same time because he could. Because it was his destiny.

She opened the door.

He really didn't think that she would.

Her beautiful eyes went wide. He knew that she wasn't expecting this. He walked menacingly towards her, forcing her to back away so he could be inside her room when what he really wanted was to be inside of her. She was looking at his dark expression and for a moment, she was almost intimidated.

Until she realized that her love was back. More than back. He was more than Chuck Bass. She was what she wanted. She hated it when he went evil and sold her out. But she also hated how turned on she got when he went psychotic. She had never known before this moment what that looked like. But she knew that she loved it. It was him.

She couldn't kick him out, couldn't rid herself of him. He had dug himself beneath her skin so far that he could feed on her soul.

He closed the door behind him with a snap.

"What are you doing here?"

She always had to make everything so damn difficult.

He loved her like that.

"Didn't you miss me?"

She was looking at him and he knew that she knew. He knew that she could smell the booze all over him. He knew she could smell his need and desire for her like some sort of instinct that she had been born with. Like the instinct he was born with that told him that she belonged to him and only him. She was his mate. His blood. His life.

She wasn't going anywhere.

"You were gone for three days."

"Don't act so put out, sweetheart," he said with his condescending fondness as he stroked her hair. She jerked away, her eyes now furious. "I know you've missed me."

"You were gone a lot longer than three days."

She wasn't talking about his physical being. She was talking about him. Chuck Bass.

Well Chuck Bass was back.

And he was more Chuck Bass than he ever had been.

Without warning, his fingers were in her hair and he tugged her head back so she was looking right into his eyes.

"I loved you so much," he growled, his grip tightening. "I loved you so much and so hard that I just wanted to die when I thought you didn't love me anymore. And when I thought you didn't love me anymore again."

Her breathing had quickened and he just wanted to rip all of her clothes off right now. But he had to wait.

"Say it," he ordered. "Tell me you love me too."

"Make me," she commanded.

"I know how turned on you get when I pull your hair."

Because he knew that she couldn't let him win just yet.

"I bet your blood is pumping so hard through your heart right now," Chuck said, looking at how her pulse jumped through her neck. "I bet you're just squirming for me."

"You disappeared a long time ago."

It sickened him to think of that person that he had resorted himself to being. But he had to be the selfish person he had always been. He had to have to have her.

It was what he was built for.

"Is your boyfriend here?" he asked with quiet danger. Her eyes flickered and he knew that poor excuse for nothing was just a weak defense.

"No," she said, sounding almost defeated. But he was going to make her okay. He was going to make her better than okay. He was going to make her his again.

"Good," he said smarmily. "Because you don't have one anymore. You're going to be with me now. Until forever."

"Says who?" she seethed. He gripped her hair tighter. She didn't even flinch. Her eyes thrived and he remembered.

She liked it.

Oh, he remembered.

She loved it.

He slammed her back into her wall and she groaned out. She wasn't in pain. He knew that she was in ecstasy.

"I remember," he vowed. "You don't think I remember, but I do. I remember how you want me. I remember how I sickened you as some law abiding citizen with a moral compass. But you like me morally bankrupt, don't you? He want me like that. You want me bad."

He heard her moan slightly and he kissed her fiercely, plundering her mouth with his tongue.

"I remember how you writhed around me for everyone to see," he said. "I remember your lust for the kill. Don't you, princess?"

"You're psychotic," she told him. But her nails raking down his bare back and now he was the one who was groaning.

"That's my girl," he uttered.

He was bleeding by the time they were done.

He liked it when she dominated him. He was caked underneath her fingernails and she was breathing hard with the effort.

"Say it," he said. "Say what you always say."

"I want you to yank my hair and ravish me and leave me for dead," she confided. He reached beneath the covers and she was breathing hard again. And suddenly they were breathing together even more harshly until they collapsed again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"I could do this forever," he told her.

"Do you think you're psychotic enough for me?" she taunted.

"I'm sure as hell going to try," he said. He was standing up on unforgiving legs, the sun rising through the curtains.

"I'm going to come back for you."

It wasn't a promise. It was a command.

I've seen it, B. You've got the lust. And I'm not just talking about screwing vampires.

Don't you dare bring him into this.

It was good, wasn't it? The sex. The danger. I bet a part of you even dug it when he went psycho.