A.N. Welcome to another new story – I mean, collection of single-chapter fics. I'm sort of cheating with this assortment of one-shots because it means I only need to update when there's a new short ditty ready. I write all the time and occasionally I'll be left with a crumby scene that doesn't warrant a story to itself but I don't want to just forget about it. That is what this is: dark!Blaine drabbles. In some, Blaine will be a jerk – an example being this first chapter. He might also be playing a part, like in the future update 'In The Basement'. He might even be downright sadistically evil as he is in future update 'Indulgence'. They will vary in extremities. Some fics will be long and some (like this one) will be short – I only start with this tiny one to get the ball rolling. Next in the ficlets I think I'll upload 'Come Home' then an edited version of 'Indulgence' if I can manage to make it Fanfiction dot net safe. If you want to read about future one-shot updates, you can find info on my profile. As I've said before, I write this type of Glee genre because I enjoy it but I still hope others can get some entertainment out of it too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. If I did, there would be a super-cool smash up of Glee and American Horror Story and The New Normal. ...Oh my gosh, that would be AWESOME.

Warnings: Do not read if you are offended/uncomfortable with ANY of the following: swearing, violence, sexual scenes, extreme violence and/or sexual scenes, abuse in any form. I've only had a couple of flames and both were as a result of readers not paying attention to the warnings and reading only to discover they did not like the content. A couple of the later ficlets are particularly nasty so please, for the love all that is good in this awful world, turn back now if you feel this might not be for you.

Right, now that's out the way: Please read, enjoy and review!


Reconvene on the Dancefloor

(( Dark!Blaine level: Mild (Jerk Blaine) ))


I knew something was wrong the second I heard Chandler calling my name. I continued dancing with Luke but I listened intently as my friend shouted over the music and into my ear 'Kurt! He's here! I'm...I'm gonna head home, you coming?'

I stared on at my dancing partner and then shook my head. Behind me, Chandler sighed. And he then left.

Screw him, I thought - and I wasn't thinking about Chandler. I was thinking about the reason Chandler was leaving the club early. There was no way I was going to leave for that asshole. I came to Scandals before we started dating and I planned to continue coming now after we had broken up. It bothered me that my best friend had been spooked into leaving by him and I was determined not to let the same person scare me into running also. I wrapped my arms securely around the oblivious Luke's neck and the boy happily came closer. I let our foreheads press together and I distracted myself by focusing on his bulky, sweaty shoulders that sent my arms in every direction as they slid over them. I knew at that point, if the night continued as it was, I would probably sleep with him.

Then, he appeared.

I felt a second pair of arms slink around my waist. In a club like Scandals such an action was commonplace but I knew it was him: those arms were firm, unmovable and were pulling at me. If it were just another horny dancer he would be trying to get involved with both Luke and I, not trying to separate us. I pulled on my dance partner in an attempt to fight those arms off, but even the eager Luke was not strong enough to stop him dragging me back. I watched in foolish shock as Chad and David stepped in out of nowhere and crowded around him. For a moment I was fearful for my now ex-dance partner but I remembered that David was not one of those violent henchmen. He was a lover; not a fighter. Luke disappeared in the crowd and the last I saw was his upset-confusion transform into surprised pleasure. No, Luke would probably not come looking for me for a while if Chad and David and there skillful hands had anything to say about it.

That left me to deal with the true perpetrator alone. I looked down at his clasped hands which kept his arms tight around my waist. I tried to wrestle them apart but they didn't let up. I stumbled backwards into him feeling nervous and ill. Perhaps I should have left with Chandler after all, screw all that bullshit about maintaining dignity and standing up for myself. I never wanted to be in this position.

'Mmm, baby, you smell so sweet...' I heard him murmur in my ear. He was still pulling me backwards and soon my scrambling feet left the dance floor and I found myself thrust up against the back wall opposite the bar. There was no one else around us, I noticed, as I was forced to finally meet his eyes. He was drunk. Why was I not surprised? His eyes were watery and ever-so-slightly red. But they were focused: focused on me. His hands were pressed against the wall, trapping me between his arms and forcing me to feel his body as it eased against mine. 'You're so goddamn sexy tonight.' He told me. His warm hazel eyes gazed into mine and for a brief moment I wanted him back. But only for a moment, then sanity returned.

'Blaine, get off.' I told him firmly. 'You're drunk and I don't want to talk to you - I just came here to dance.' He smiled at me and then dipped his head to kiss me. I quickly turned my head to the side and shoved at his chest roughly. 'Stop it! Seriously, Blaine, leave me alone!'

His lips found my cheek and he seemed to barely register that instead of my lips he was now steadily beginning to suck at my jawbone. When I felt him move to my neck, I tried pushing him again. This time he grabbed my wrists and pulled them out of the way. 'Why are you being like this? You know I've missed you. I've missed you so fucking much, babe...'

'I'm not your babe, anymore.' I snapped. At last he seemed to listen. He tilted his head and considered me like I was speaking some language close to English but still foreign enough for him not to get it. 'We broke up. Remember? That means I get to dance with other people and you have no right-' I give my wrists a rapid shake and his alcohol-clumsy grip falls off them. 'to cut in. Now, if you don't mind...'

I moved to step by him but he grips onto my shirt, as I expected he would, but I hadn't prepared myself for his lips attacking mine so soon after his first attempt which is why he succeeded in forcing a kiss out of me. His fingers gripped my sides and pinned me against the wall. I struggled with him but it began to hurt. At last, he ceased kissing me and growled against my mouth 'I mind... I don't want you dancing with other guys, Kurt. I don't want anyone else touching you.'

'I'm not yours anymore, Blaine!' I cried out in anger-bordering-on-panic. The last time he made me feel this vulnerable I ended up unconscious so I was more than justified to feel such fear. I shoved him off completely this time and he stumbled back a couple of feet. It hurt to look at him properly now; he wore the same dark navy turtleneck sweater I bought him when we went shopping in Columbus (an article of clothing not overly appropriate for the sweaty club atmosphere) and his hair was product free just as I always insisted looked best on him. He stumbled back to me and locked me in his tight embrace, burying his nose into my neck and letting his hands roam up and down my shivering back like I might just disappear if he wasn't careful. Fat chance - I had been wanting to disappear for a few minutes now and it didn't seem to be working for me.

I knew I couldn't push him off again with him locked around me so firmly, so I just concentrated on not encouraging him. I tensed up and remained unresponsive. Perhaps he would get bored? I was fooling no one... 'I love you - miss you so much... Think about you all the time...need you. Please-' I squeezed my eyes shut as he began grinding into me. I could feel his tongue drawing across every inch of skin he could reach and the wet sucking sounds were loud in my ears despite the club music still pounding away. I knew he wanted to fuck me - that was a given - but there was something more. I guessed it was just plain missing me as I had in many ways been missing him, only I had more reason to dismiss such feelings.

He's a monster, he's a monster, he's a fucking monster who will kill you - don't let him get to you again, you moron!

'Blaine, please...' I bit my lip as my voice broke.

He lifted his head and kissed me dead on the mouth. Unlike before, this kiss was not sloppy. He tasted of sweet-honey laced with smoky alcohol. Trust him to actually taste the essence of sex even when drunk. His tongue softly invited itself into meet mine and it coaxed it into a dance. There was something about his confident tongue which always made me sizzle in excitement. He made me feel like some priceless artwork that needed so much delicate care but then he could twist around and cause me to turn to a shivering wreck like his tongue was fucking me and I had no say. He mastered me, gently tilting my chin so he could explore me to his heart's content. I let him because my willpower and sense of reasoning seemed to have run off temporarily, like Chandler had. I wasn't aware of him stopping; only that the world vaguely came back into view and we were panting softly against each other's wet lips. He was still grinding into me with his fingers clutching at my waist to hold it in place.

'Stop.' I whispered. And he did. What's more, he slowly let go of me and gradually stepped back. I felt cold and very, very alone pressed against the wall. My arms instinctively wrapped around my chest. He stared at me as if considering some puzzle and then he smiled.

You still belong to me. You know it. I want you and you want me, and in the end it's going to be just us.

I glared at him and he just smiled back at me. He was a dick. An asshole. A piece of shit. And I hated that he won. Angry at myself, I stormed past him and was not at all surprised when he didn't move to stop me. I had to get out of here and fortunately I was the designated driver of the night, so however Chandler managed to get home it did not matter to me. I fished the keys out of my pocket and made a bee-line for the exit only barely remembering to pick up my jacket from the stand on the way out.


A.N. Short and, by my standards, quite innocent. Hopefully a good way to start. Please review or PM, especially if there's a ficlet you'd like to see sooner rather than later.