A/N: As promised, a fic inspired by my Voyeur video. And as it is my soulmate Bella's birthday, this is all for her. This is an mega AU fic, so keep that in mind.

Summary: "You are so desperate. You are so starved for attention from your boyfriend that you'll allow anyone to lurk in on your private moments. Even if it is someone as perverse as me."

Disclaimer: Inspiration goes to Blink-182 for their awesome song that inspired this depraved thing. All credit goes to GG for I did not create the destined Chuck and Blair. Thanks INFINITELY to my beautiful beta comewhatmay.x who beta-ed this even though I'm the most annoying person in the world and forced it down her throat. She's the best.

"Look who just walked in."

"Who invited him?"

"I don't know. It's Blair's party. Ask her."

"Isn't it kind of a given that he'd show up?"

"It's not like he just wouldn't come."

"It's not a party if someone doesn't crash it."

"Well, he is Chuck Bass."

"Just keep him away from Kati. Last time, she got so drunk that she didn't even realize what she was doing with him."

Blair ignored Nate's conversations with his friends.

As she usually did. The same way he usually ignored her.

Her mother would be so proud. Only seventeen and she was already involved in a cold, business-like relationship solely for her own personal gain. This was her future. She might as well start getting used to it.

She tipped back another martini. She knew that she could only start enjoying these parties once the room started getting fuzzy.

She put the drink down anyway. She was ignoring Nate and his lacrosse cult, but that didn't mean that she was blind.

Whenever Chuck Bass walked in the room, everyone started talking. He had confidence that could only be attributed to his narcissism.

Blair supposed her best option was to attempt to stumble back up to her room.

He was staring.


"Is he bothering you?"

Blair cringed at the feeling of Nate's arm around her shoulders. His attempt at being chivalrous was exhausting as well as nauseating.

"I don't need you to protect me," Blair said, a little more fiercely than she would have if-

"Maybe you've had enough gin for the night," Nate suggested, pulling the glass out of her hand.

"Since when are you my chaperon?"

"Since when have you started being such a bitch?"

His friends couldn't help but look over at the statement.

"You obviously don't know me very well if you think I've just started," Blair sneered.

"I don't know what I did," Nate said, his voice softening. "The way you've been acting lately-"

"The way I've been acting?" Blair asked. He looked at the ground at that statement.

He could never look her in the eye.

"Why don't you confer with your mother on your feelings on the subject," she snapped. "That's all our relationship has been for the past six months."

"That's not fair," Nate protested.

"I'm more in a relationship with your mother than I am with you," Blair said. "And everyone knows it."

Nate hung back as Blair returned to the bar.

She wasn't done yet.

She supposed it wasn't strange. At this point, everyone was staring at her. But the one pair of eyes she was most aware of were the ones that always seemed to be on her.

"Go away."

"I couldn't help but observe-"

"You never can."

"That awful argument between you and poor Nathaniel."

Blair raised her eyes to the sneering features of Chuck Bass.

"What a very astute observation," Blair said in a clipped tone. "So did the rest of the party."

"Isn't the point of having a cardboard cutout for a boyfriend so that you won't get into humiliating exchanges like that?"

Blair laid her glass on the table with a distinct clink.

He always saw right into her.

"Were you even invited?"

"Well I am rich, connected, and absurdly handsome."

"And fantastically vile," she snapped.

"Kati knew what she was getting into."

"Like she was the only one you violated."

"When it's me, it's violation," Chuck mused. "When it's Nate, it's a romantic meeting of souls."

"Nate and I haven't-" Blair started before she could stop herself.

"Oh, I know, lovely," he murmured in her ear. "And you know the thousand ways I can make you squirm if you weren't so uptight. Even right now. It's not like your Ken doll would notice."

Blair cringed away from him, feeling ill at his every statement. Even his natural musk made her want to gag.

"You're nauseating."

"Thank you."

"If I see you anywhere near my bedroom again," Blair warned, "I'm calling security."

"Just healthy curiosity," he said sleazily, watching her push away from him and up the stairs.

Nate was still talking about lacrosse plays.

Only when she had slammed the door behind her could Blair really breathe, undoing the ties at the back of her dress. Or more accurately, letting the tears well up in her eyes. Down there she had to be cold and unfeeling. But even for someone like Chuck Bass, that wasn't enough.

It didn't used to be this bad. There was a time when she truly believed that Nate and her loved each other. But she could feel herself turning into her mother. Now whenever she was in the midst of social engagements, she felt panic rise in her throat. The attacks that she hadn't indulged since in elementary school started to make her wheeze and gasp for air.

She wondered if that was why he stared. She wondered if he was so fascinated by her self-destruction that he couldn't help but watch her car wreck.

Either way, Chuck Bass wasn't her enemy. She knew how degrading and repulsive he was, but she knew something else with an even stronger conviction.

Nate Archibald was not the white knight he appeared to be.

It was easier to put her face back on. She reapplied foundation and mascara, and soon, she was the queen that everyone saw. Not the anxious one alone in her room. It was unladylike and bad practice as a hostess. But she had to hide from everything.

She laced up the back of her dress, once again feeling the familiar constriction of the world around her. Even though she never truly felt alone.

Opening the door, she felt a lurch in her stomach. Lounging at the railing of the staircase was, of course, no one that she wanted to see.

"What did I tell you?" Blair practically growled, pressing past Chuck. "I'm calling security."

"And what did I tell you?" Chuck asked. "Curiosity."

"As though that's an excuse."

"It's a reason," he said. "Not an excuse."

Before she could even reach the stairs, she felt his grip on her, making her skin crawl.

"But answer me this one thing, princess," he said secretively. "If you really didn't want my intrusion, why did you leave the door unlocked?"

Blair shirked away, staring at him in utter disbelief.

"You are so desperate," he said huskily, nearing her inescapably. "You are so starved for attention from your boyfriend that you'll allow anyone to lurk in on your private moments. Even if it is someone as perverse as me."

"Just get out," Blair uttered lowly.

"Not going to call security?" Chuck asked. "I'm honored."

Chuck walked out of the party, having accomplished his goal.

She never made it back downstairs.


"What is this?"

Blair knew better than anyone not to cause a scene. She wouldn't let her own boyfriend cause her humiliation.

Or ex.

But he never traveled without his posse and avoiding that would be tricky.

Especially in the state she was in.


His eyes narrowed down at the phone she was displaying in front of him before his face fell.

"That-" he stuttered. "That's just-"

"I honestly didn't think I could ever be this repulsed," Blair sneered. "Evidently, I was wrong."

"It's just a girl," he protested as Blair closed her phone over the picture of him and a blonde Gossip Girl had blasted.

"Just a girl," Blair laughed scornfully, "that Gossip Girl caught with you more than once."

"No," Nate denied. "That's not the same-"

He cut himself off when he realized what he was saying.

"That wasn't the same girl," Blair stated coolly.

"I didn't mean-"

"Tell me."

"No, I-"

"Just say it," Blair snapped. "Everyone knows you did it. Even me."

"It just happened once-"

"Once was all that was necessary."

He was still a cheater.


Blair never cried.

Not in public, at least.

Displaying emotion in such an unsavory way was a sure way to lose status. At least when it came to those her mother wanted her to associate with. Emotion was a sign of weakness.

So Blair never showed it.

She thought she was alone. She allowed herself to pull off her dress and collapse into a fit of tears.

She thought she was alone.

She heard the door creak.

Blair was quite positive that she had closed it when she came in to shut out Dorota and her mother if, God forbid, she actually cared about her daughter's emotional state.

She slowly stood up in just her slip, pushing the door open further.

She wasn't surprised. She thought she might be, but upon realization, it was clear she had known who it was all along.

She pushed Chuck against the wall.

"Vicious," he smirked.

"Are you serious right now?" Blair snapped, forgetting about her wrecked face was entirely.

"Come on, B," he said mockingly. "You and I both know this isn't the first time you caught me peering through your door."

"It's the last," she said. "You're disgusting."

"Perhaps," he shrugged, straightening the jacket she had mussed. "But at least I'm honest. That's more than I can say for your virtuous boyfriend."

"What do you know about that?" Blair asked dangerously.

"Everyone knows, sweetheart," he said. "Your little display in the courtyard was blasted all over Gossip Girl by the end of the day."

"No," Blair disagreed. "What do you know about that?"

She could see his attempt to hide his smugness. But that was the one thing he was never very good at.

"Oh, I saw the whole thing," Chuck replied silkily, venturing further into her room. "Very kinky, if you ask me."

Blair followed somberly. He turned to greet her.

"And you were asking me," he said stated. "Weren't you?"

He took a moment to appraise her outfit. Whenever he did that before, she always recoiled with revulsion. And she was always wearing more clothes then. But it didn't happen. He was looking at her, and all she did was look back.

"What interests me," Chuck continued, "is why he went to the neighborhood slut when he was supposedly committed to you in the first place. Too frigid? He couldn't stand the ice queen routine?"

"You were there," Blair said, her voice cracking. "Why didn't you ask him?"

"He seemed a little preoccupied," Chuck said nonchalantly. "But it should comfort you that it was only once."

"The fact that you think I would still be with him after this is horribly insulting."

"Really," he said. "I'm impressed. I would have thought you would have stayed with your arrangement until the very last gasp of breath."

"I didn't realize we were sharing," Blair sneered. She relished in the way he recoiled. She had never seen it before. "Do you want to braid each other's hair and paint each other's toenails now?"

"You know the number of things I would like to do to you," he uttered darkly. "He sees your cool exterior. But he has no comprehension of the fire you hold... below."

His eyes dipped suggestively.

"Please," Blair laughed. "Don't attempt to convince me of anything else. We both know all you like to do is watch."

Blair pulled open her door pointedly.

"And may I say," he said, "you look ravishing."

"I would rather you didn't."

"That's completely false," he said, "and you know it. You hate to admit it, but I make you feel good. Better than he ever did. You take pleasure in the fact that I love to watch you strip down. And you know what they call that, dearest?"

"What?" Blair snapped.

"Mutual satisfaction."

She slammed the door in his face.


"I really am sorry."

Blair looked at her clock. It had only been five hours and already he was back. She turned towards the door to see him hovering in it.

"Excuse me?"

She rose from her bed, aware of how little she always seemed to be wearing in front of him.

"You're not going to make me say it again."

She wasn't sure if it was a question or not.

"Get out," she said curtly.

That sounded more like a question.

"You never seem to keep up on your promises," he mused. "Where is that evasive security?"

"What are you doing here?" Blair said, almost regretfully.

Things weren't simple anymore.

"You must know by now," he said, "how many nights I come to see you. Even if you don't see me."

She couldn't even make an antagonistic move towards him.

"You want to be disgusted by me," he said into her ear, "but you aren't. Not anymore."

"You're repugnant," she said softly.

"That's true," he acquiesced. "But you have to know, how I worship you."

Her breath stilled in her throat and she knew that she had never felt this way before in her life.


"How could I not?" he asked. "Always watching and never touching. You have to know that you're unique in that regard."

He stepped away.

"Chuck," she said softly.

She would think of Nate and that was when her skin would crawl.

And then there was Chuck. There was something she felt when he looked at her.


Was that really what it was? It felt almost similar to what she had felt before. How she felt him lurking outside her bedroom. She felt disgust.

Or she thought.

Maybe it was something else. Not flattery.

Maybe it was something greater than that.

It was easy to be disgusted by Nate. But why was it suddenly becoming even harder to do the same with Chuck?

Chuck Bass, who no one liked. Chuck Bass, who preyed on the easy and the inebriated. Chuck Bass, who everyone tolerated because his father was Bart Bass.

Chuck Bass, who, if was found with her, would cause her to be ostracized.

She was considering Chuck Bass as though he were something more than a boy being in a state of perpetual depravity.

"How many times have you seen me?"

She was curious. She couldn't help but be. No one had ever found her attractive in such a primal way, and she couldn't understand it.

She couldn't help but want to explore it.


"Why?" she asked.

"Because you're beautiful," he said. To him it was obvious.

She still couldn't understand.

"A goddess among mortals. And he's too stupid to realize it."

He took a step forward.

"I couldn't help myself."

"Well stop it," Blair ground out.

"Why?" he smirked slyly. "Because you like it?"

He was approaching her and as it was flattering as it was, it was another thing as well.


"You don't get to touch me," Blair warned.

"That was never my intention."

"For once," she sneered. But stopped. An even darker reality occurred to her. "Am I really that hideous?"

His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"You touch everyone else," she pointed out. "But you refuse to touch me."

"I don't deserve to touch perfection such as you," he said.

For some reason, she believed him.

"I am simply a humble observer, blessed that I get to witness beauty such as yours."

"You're manipulating me," she pointed out.

"You're not so bad at it yourself," he remarked.

"I know."

She let her slip fall around her ankles.


It was something that had never occurred to him.

Her willingness.

He was sure that when his—to put it delicately—stalking was discovered, that would be the end of it. He hadn't considered the alternative.

He hadn't considered how truly fucked up her beloved had made her to crave even the most lecherous of attention.

And still he couldn't complain.

She was perfection.

He never thought he would have gotten this far. He would have thought Blair's own obsession with her Blue-Blooded fantasy would have led her right into the shackles of an unrequited marriage.

But she left him.

And now he was sitting in his limo, very close to the route she walked every day.

Pure coincidence.

Of course.

He was too far in. That much was clear. He was following her in his limo. Not so long ago, all of this had been was just mere fascination. How she acted in public and how she acted alone were two very contradictory things. He couldn't help but investigate.

But investigation turned to something he didn't even realize he was capable of. Affection? Obsession? Girls bored him after they served their purpose.

But it was now clear that Blair was never just a girl. Now he was following her. Now she had him addicted.

He blamed her, of course. If she hadn't let him in, none of this would have happened. He would have been completely content hiding in the shadows, waiting to comfort her in her darkest moments—even if she wasn't realizing it.

But she opened the door. She shrugged out of her dress for him, displaying everything he had seen, but it had been a voluntary display that time. She was looking at him in the eye, knowing that he was looking.

And she didn't slap him in the face. He should have been grateful. He should have taken the hint and left before further damage could be done.

He couldn't. He was Chuck Bass and he was greedy and selfish. He wanted more. He needed more. She gave him too much. She gave him everything she refused to give anyone else—almost everything. He couldn't let that go now.

He never thought himself worthy. But she looked at him like he was a real person. It was too much. Now he was starting to think he was a real person and actually worthy of what he never pursued from her before.


She was too warm, too inviting. Too beautiful. She was meant to be cared for in the only way that he could.

She shouldn't have let him see her like that so willingly.

Now he wanted it all.

Knuckles wrapped sharply on the window of the parked limo. He should have known better. He should have been more careful. Nothing got past her.

"Well, this is a surprise," he smirked, lowering the window.

"Really?" Blair snapped. "It shouldn't be, because you've been following me for the past fifteen blocks."

"Longer," he taunted.

"You're stalking me."

"Consider it a compliment."

"Why?" Blair asked. "I've done nothing to deserve it."

His stomach churned uncomfortably. He knew exactly what was coming next.

"Your selective memory is even more cruel than I thought," he still responded coldly.

"I can't help but assume you're referring to last night."

"You couldn't forget me that easily, could you?" he asked darkly.

"Very easily, actually," she snapped. "It happened. It's done. Get over it."

His eyes darkened dangerously.

"I have seen everything there is to be shown," he said, jaw clenched.

"And who would believe you?" she asked coolly. "I'm a vision of chastity and virtue. And what are you?"

"The first one to see you sullied."

"But not the last," she taunted and leaned away from the window.

He watched her walk away.

He didn't like it.


"What are you doing here?"

Chuck looked around her room casually, again confounded as to why he hadn't been evicted from her room yet.

And marveling at his ability to come across her in her most vulnerable state.

Or maybe she just walked around in lingerie all day.

Blair hugged her translucent robe around her.

"I couldn't help myself," Chuck replied. "I told you that."

"Even after today," she stated.

"Well, you haven't called security yet," he replied snarkily.

"I have no idea why," she muttered.

His eyes were penetrating and she had never felt him look so hard at her before.

"Yes, you do," he said suddenly. She took a step back. She didn't like how he was looking at her.

"I don't know what you're-"

"You like this," he realized. "Trying to convince me that the other night was a fluke. But you actually like this. Don't you, princess?"

She wasn't hiding the fact that she was backing away any longer.

"You realize that we're the same," he said. "Perverse and degraded in every possible way. Wrecked."

"I don't know you," she said.

"You do," Chuck said. "Just like I know you. Like how I know that even if I told you how your jealous little boyfriend approached me today, you wouldn't care. You're done with that life, aren't you?"

"You're expecting me to agree with you."

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked. "It's the truth."

She was fully backed into her vanity and he wasn't backing away. Her limbs trembled, but he didn't touch her. His finger simply hooked onto the sash that held her robe together.

"Chuck-" she said as her robe fell away.

"I like how you say my name," he husked into her ear. "But don't worry. I remember the rules."

Every article of clothing fell away. And he didn't touch her once.


He looked for her. He always looked for her. But it had been a long time since then. She wasn't nearly so accessible.

He hadn't seen her in days.

He knew it was only one night. But he was starting to think it might have been one night too many. He didn't violate the rules.

He didn't violate her.

He touched her robe and that was it. They never touched, they never consummated.

But she had been there. They had been there together and now Chuck was sure they deserved each other.

She just enjoyed torturing him. He should have realized that before. She was just a sadist. Like him. She enjoyed reeling him in just to tear herself away.

He thought this would help. This lifestyle, the glamor. He was invested into the drugs and the sex. But he knew the real reason why he was at a party with people that held nothing but contempt for him.

And it wasn't to get blazed.

She was standing right there. Her eyes found everything except him, but he knew better now. He knew it was about as easy for her to ignore him as it was for him to ignore her.

"Have I offended you?"

"Were you even invited?"

"Am I ever?"

Finally, her dark eyes locked with his lighter ones.

"That's better," he said patronizingly.

"Don't pretend this is something it isn't."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Chuck asked. "I'm not some blue-blooded lacrosse playing future senator. I'm the real deal, Waldorf. And you know it. I'm not going to follow you around like a lovesick puppy. This is real."

"Despite the fact that you're stalking me."

Chuck didn't waver.

"I took my clothes off for you," Blair whispered savagely at his silence. "That's it. There's nothing else."

"Say that a little louder," Chuck drawled. "I'm sure everyone at the party would like to know."

"You're just a guy," she said. "You're not—"

"Nate?" Chuck couldn't help but laugh. But it turned angry when he grabbed her forearm. "I have seen more of you than your dear Nathaniel ever has. You are such a virgin in his eyes. If only he knew that I'm the only who has seen you naked."

Blair was attempting to escape his grasp. He should have been paying attention.

He knew his voice had escalated, but there was a pain in his jaw and he was knocked backwards.


Blair wasn't looking at Chuck, but the one standing over him.

Someone Chuck didn't even recognize.

But he recognized that flurry of blonde hair as Serena van der Woodsen pulled him away.

"B, are you okay?"

But Blair wasn't looking at the interloper anymore, who, admittedly was a little overzealous when it came to landing punches. She looked at Chuck as he clotted his bloody nose with his scarf.

"Shouldn't I be?" she asked distantly. But Chuck didn't even cast her one backwards glance. She almost went after him.

But she didn't understand why. All she could think of was that he could have been seriously injured.

"Why did you do that?" Blair asked. "And who are you?"

"This is Dan," Serena replied. "Remember?"


"I met him-"

"Why did you do that?" She was asking him directly.

"He was attacking you," Dan said, looking to Serena for help.

"Was he?" Blair asked.

"Blair, he has a reputation," Serena said.

"And I'm sure you filled your Dan in on the way across the bridge," Blair said curtly. "And you don't even know me."

"Serena cares about you."

Blair couldn't help but stare. It really was that simple to him. If the girl he held hands with cared about something, he did too.

That must be what love was like.

She heard Serena call her name, but she still walked away. She wasn't really sure where she was going.

Or so she thought. Until she reached her destination.

He was nursing a scotch and putting it against his eyes.

"What?" he asked bluntly, eyes trained to the floor.

She took a step forward without preamble, without caring who would see or where she was, she let her dress fall to the floor.

His eyes rose hesitantly. He put his glass down, but made no move.

"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"I was going to ask you the same question," she said. "Or rather, what aren't you doing?"

"And what is that?"

She leaned forward, placing her hand above his shoulder and he leaned back against the couch.

"Aren't you going to touch me, Charles?"

His breath stilted, and for a moment, she was afraid he was going to reject her.

He was going to reject her.

She ignored it. She leaned forward with vast swiftness and she felt him still beneath her as she kissed him. She leaned away.

He slowly put his hand to her waist, caressing the fabric and heat beneath. He looked back up, as though asking for permission.


"Because," she sighed, "when you get hurt, it makes me sad."

He needed no more than that. He trapped her between his hands, pulling her down on top of him, their mouths moving together easily.


Her body curled around his easily in the back of his limo, as his hand eased up her thigh. He almost paused.

"Touch me."