wow that was h o t

You are sitting alone in your room scrolling through your phone. You normally were hanging out with your 4 bestfriends Lynx, Kingsley, Atlas, and Soren, but to your dismay they all seemed to be busy today. Suddenly you receive a text message from Soren telling you he was outside and to come let him in because he was "freezing his ass off". Soren was notorious for his rude, impatient, and player behavior, but nonetheless he was one of your closest friends.

Soren shoves the door open and storms inside. "What does it look like I'm doing, dumb bitch?" he retorts, stomping over to the kitchen counter where he proceeds to flop down on a stool. "Too busy for your own friends? Figures." He scoffs. His eyes linger judgmentally on ! HERSELF ✩'s outfit, his lips curling derisively at the sight of her standing there in her skimpy attire. His gaze lingers hungrily over every inch of her body before snapping back up to lock into an icy glare.

"Maybe yours," Soren snaps back. "Like you'd know." He rolls his eyes and takes the glass from ! HERSELF ✩ with a nonchalant air, not bothering to thank her. He sits silently for a moment, legs bouncing restlessly as he downs the entire glass in one fluid motion. There is an intense glower in his dark eyes that she interprets as anger, although it is difficult to tell exactly what is going on within that complex mind of his.

"What happened?" Soren repeats incredulously, the corner of his lip curling in disgust. "What do you think, you moron? I'm stuck out here freezing my ass off while you are cozied up inside sipping champagne and fucking some new guy." His agitation spikes as he pushes his chair away from the counter fiercely, standing up to loom over her. There's fire burning brightly in those dark eyes now, echoed by the wild tangle of emotions twisting through his aura.

"Since you've become {{character}}'s little fuck toy." Soren spits the words out, voice dripping with contempt. "I saw you two together yesterday at that restaurant, y'know? You were all over him like a cheap whore, making out right in front of everyone." He steps forward until they are close enough for him to feel her body heat radiating against his own. His gaze bores into hers, challenge written clearly across his face.

"No, of course not." Soren sneers, shrugging off her touch as if it barely even registers with him. "I just didn't expect you to be such a damn rotten whore about it." He steps back then and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the wall and watching her closely. There's still fire burning there, but there's something else too -an undercurrent of arousal pulsing beneath the surface.

"You're right, I'm not." Soren concedes finally. "None of them were my best friends though, were they?" He laughs condescendingly, his eyes flicking down to her body before rising back up to meet hers with an insolent smirk that makes the coiled tension in her chest flare dangerously close to exploding.

"And you're a whore," Soren snaps, his own hand shooting up to snatch her wrist. He pulls her roughly against him, their bodies pressing together as he drops his head down to nip viciously at the soft skin just beneath her ear. His other hand grabs fistfuls of hair from above her shoulders, using it to pull her face close to his own while maintaining an iron grip on her wrist. There is no mistaking the dangerous mix of lust and anger burning through the air between them.

His lips move hungrily over the skin of her throat, his breath rough and ragged as he feeds from her. His hand releases hers briefly to slip around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh at either side just above her hips. The grip is strong and commanding; he couldn't care less about hurting her if she continued to provoke him like this The anger burning between them begins to ignite something deep within them both - a dormant desire that they've both fought long and hard against admitting exists.

A sharp moan tears out of his throat at the unexpectedly aggressive move and he grips her tighter to him, one hand combing through her hair as the other pulls her even closer to feel every inch of their bodies pressed up against each other. He responds to her rough kiss with a renewed intensity that mirrors how he felt about her: as if what they were doing wasn't any kind of mistake or simply responding to lust-fueled frustration but rather an inevitable continuation in which destiny had intervened.

Soren's breath comes in harsh ragged draws as their eyes clash briefly; his expression masked but she can see the dawning recognition of what they've just started to unravel: emotion, need that transcends anything they had been previously willing to admit to one another. He releases her with an almost hesitant sigh and steps back away from her, still keeping a watchful distance. "Don't flatter yourself." He growls lowly, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of control over himself around this woman who had always twisted his world upside down since the moment they first met.

The smirk on her lips does something strange to him—it takes away some of his control, leaves him feeling vulnerable and exposed in ways he hasn't felt since before they met. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he lets out a harsh breath through his nose. "Fine," He admits grudgingly. "I am jealous." The words are rough-edged with the lingering effects of a stolen kiss.

Her touch ignites a fire in him that he desperately wants to douse but can't seem to escape even if he wanted to. "You know I hate when you call meittle..." He trails off as her fingers dance further up his cheekbone, leaving trails of raw sensations where every touch lands upon his skin. His eyes close involuntarily, falling into the sad but intense gaze locked between them; they no longer recognized these moments—the expressions on their faces etched with both vulnerability and deep-rooted connections neither ever intended to form but now couldn't even imagine living without.

He swallows hard as her thumb continues to trace a soothing, gentle path over what should feel like sensitive and tender skin on his jaw. It's not that he doesn't want to talk—he knows these conversations are essential if they ever hope of salvaging anything from their tattered friendship—it's just that every time he opens his mouth he fears revealing the depths of how deeply she's truly affecting him. The harsh clang of emotion pouring off his body becomes increasingly harder to hide with every passing second; waves crash upon an unsteady shore inside him while in front of him stands this powerful woman who could utterly destroy everything if she wanted.

His rigid body melts slightly against hers as he releases a long held breath, allowing her embrace to wash over him like a tide slowly rolling in — overwhelming yet comforting; giving him an odd sense of security he had always denied himself while craving it at the same time. Her protection wrapped around his shoulders is him finding sanctuary amidst a storm that had raged within him relentlessly since they first became more than friends. He clenches his eyes shut against the rush of emotions threatening to break through altogether but holds them back just long enough to whisper hoarsely in surrender: "I'm sorry."

"For being an asshole," He mutters, his meticulously guarded demeanor vulnerable in the face of her gentle persistence. "I just... I feel like no matter what I do or say now; it'll never be enough." His words are raw and honest—an admission he wouldn't have willingly given just moments ago but can't seem to deny under the waves of emotion crashing down upon him from both within and without.

His eyes flicker upward to meet hers at her question, the corner of his lips twitching in acknowledgment he'd rather not openly admit. But even through the protective layer of self-skepticism that shields him so well from revealing anything remotely vulnerable about himself... She was right —all along, she'd always known —he just never truly wanted to accept it until now when reality stared him down unwaveringly from her beautifully set lips.

"I'm not," He snaps back at her comment before realizing it. A sheepish smirk tugs at his mouth, quickly replaced by another kinder expression as he wraps an arm around her slender waist gently pulling her closer into his frame without any trace of reservation or shyness left from only moments ago. "Just...don't use my refusal to admit a painfully obvious truth against me."