Gossip Girl - Chapter 5 – Bunny
A week had passed since Serena last left Eric’s small studio.
Her own apartment felt enormous in comparison. High ceilings, wide windows that framed the glittering sprawl of the city, pale marble floors that stayed cool even in the late summer heat. Everything was exactly as she had left it—expensive, carefully curated, and quiet. The kind of quiet that used to feel like luxury. Now it simply felt empty.
The lawyers had called that afternoon. Julian had been formally served. The preservation order was in place. A thick stack of motions and fee demands had already been filed, designed to bury him in cost and procedure until he had no choice but to surrender every copy of the material. The threat was being dismantled, piece by careful piece. She should have felt nothing but relief.
Instead, the safety sat strangely in her chest.
She had tried to return to her old rhythms. A charity luncheon on Tuesday. Drinks with a few familiar faces from the old Constance circle on Wednesday evening. Smiles, air kisses, the soft clink of glasses, the same conversations about summer houses and upcoming benefits. People were happy to see her. They told her she looked well. She had laughed in the right places and left early both times.
The moments between events were harder.
At night, the apartment seemed to expand. She would pour a glass of wine, leave it untouched on the counter, and wander from room to room without purpose. The bed was too large. The silence was too complete. She found herself reaching for her phone more than once, thumb hovering over Eric’s name before she set it down again.
It wasn’t fear exactly. The legal machinery was moving. She was safer than she had been in weeks.
It was the absence.
She missed the narrow bed and the single wide window. She missed the weight of his arm across her waist in the dark. She missed the low sound of his voice when he was only half awake, and the way his eyes followed her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She missed feeling claimed—not as a van der Woodsen, not as someone’s girlfriend, but as something far more private and irreversible.
Serena stood at the tall window of her living room and watched the city lights blur against the glass. Somewhere across the park, in a much smaller apartment, Eric was probably still awake. The thought sent a slow, familiar ache through her.
She pressed her fingertips to the cool glass and closed her eyes.
The safety she had been given was real.
The loneliness that had arrived with it was real too.
=======
Her phone lit up on the low marble table just after ten.
Serena stared at the name for a second before answering, a small, involuntary smile already pulling at her mouth.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Eric’s voice came through low and warm, a little rough around the edges like he’d been quiet for most of the evening. “Just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re doing all right.”
The sound of him settled somewhere deep in her chest. She curled into the corner of the large sofa, tucking her bare feet beneath her.
“I’m okay,” she said. “The lawyers called earlier. Everything’s moving. They said he’s been served and the pressure is already starting.”
“Good.” A short pause. She could hear him shifting, maybe sitting down. “You sound tired.”
“I am. A little.” She hesitated, then added more softly, “It’s quiet here.”
“Quiet how?”
Serena let her head fall back against the cushion. The city glittered beyond the windows, distant and indifferent. “I went to a couple of things these past few days. Saw people. It was fine. But when I come home it’s just… big. And empty.” She gave a small, self-conscious laugh. “I think I’m a bit lonely.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end. When Eric spoke again his voice had changed—still careful, but warmer, threaded with something that made her stomach tighten.
“Lonely, huh?”
“Mm.”
“You could come over,” he said. “If you wanted. I’ve got takeout menus and a couch that’s only slightly more comfortable than the floor.”
Serena smiled into the phone, the ache in her chest easing and sharpening at the same time. She could picture him in the small studio—soft lamp light, the single window, the bed they had already shared too many ways.
“Actually…” She traced a fingertip along the arm of the sofa. “Why don’t you come here instead? I want to show you something.”
Another small pause. She could almost hear him trying to read the request.
“Yeah?” he asked. “All right. I can do that.”
He didn’t push for details. He didn’t ask if it was about the case. He simply accepted, the same quiet readiness he had shown since the night she first knocked on his door.
“I’ll leave in a few minutes,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Serena.”
“Yeah?”
His voice dropped just a fraction. “I’m glad you picked up.”
She closed her eyes, the smile still on her lips.
“Me too.”
When the call ended she stayed still for a long moment, phone resting against her collarbone, the low resonance of his voice still warm in her ear. The loneliness hadn’t disappeared. It had simply changed shape—into anticipation, into the slow, certain pull of knowing he was already on his way.
======
Eric stood on the sidewalk outside a small late-night florist three blocks from Serena’s building, staring at the buckets of roses like they might give him instructions.
He had never been the type to show up with flowers. Even in the short, careful months of his marriage, he had mostly avoided the gesture—too obvious, too loaded. Yet here he was, pulling out his wallet for a simple dozen in soft pink and cream because the idea of arriving empty-handed at her door felt wrong. He told himself it was just politeness. The truth sat heavier: he wanted to see her face when she took them.
The doorman of her building recognized the van der Woodsen name and was already reaching for the inner door when raised voices cut across the lobby.
A man in a dark jacket stood too close to the desk, jabbing a finger toward the doorman’s chest. “You owe me, all right? I covered for you last year. You said if I ever needed a favor—”
“I said I’d look the other way on a package,” the doorman answered, voice low and firm. “Not that I’d let random people upstairs. You’re not on the list. You’re not getting in.”
Eric stepped through the outer doors just as the man turned away in frustration. They collided hard. The roses crushed between them, several stems bending, petals scattering across the marble floor.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going,” the man snapped.
The voice hit Eric like a low electric current—familiar in a way he couldn’t immediately place, rough around the edges, edged with the same arrogance he had heard somewhere before. He opened his mouth to answer, but the man was already pushing past him, shoulder-checking him hard enough to make him take a step back. By the time Eric turned, the figure had shoved through the glass doors and disappeared into the night.
The doorman muttered an apology and hurried to help gather the scattered flowers. Eric barely heard him. He stood in the center of the quiet lobby, roses slightly ruined in his hand, the echo of that voice still turning over in his mind. He knew it. He was certain he knew it. But the memory stayed just out of reach.
======
He stood there a second longer than necessary, the damaged bouquet looking almost foolish against his forearm, the faint sense of wrongness still prickling at the back of his neck. Then he forced himself to move.
The elevator was silent and mirrored. Eric watched his own reflection as the floors ticked upward—shoulders slightly tense, jaw set, the flowers looking almost out of place in his hand. He felt ridiculous and restless at the same time. It was only Serena. His sister. The same woman who had slept in his bed and come apart under him only days ago. There was no reason for the nervous thrum under his skin.
And yet it was there.
He exhaled slowly as the elevator climbed the last few floors, trying to settle the feeling that something outside the building had been watching, and that whatever waited for him upstairs was about to change the shape of the night again.
========
Serena’s voice floated from somewhere deeper in the apartment.
“Come in. I’m just finishing up. Pour us some wine—I won’t be long.”
Eric stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The space was everything his studio was not: high ceilings, wide pale floors, floor-to-ceiling windows that turned the city into a private light show. He found a crystal vase on the console table, filled it with water, and did his best to arrange the slightly battered roses so the broken stems didn’t show. Then he located the bar, poured two glasses of red, and set them on the low table in the living room.
Silence settled.
He waited a minute, then another. When she still didn’t appear he drifted down the hallway, following the faint trail of her perfume—something expensive and familiar that had always clung to her skin. The scent grew stronger near a half-open door at the end of the corridor.
Eric paused on the threshold. The room was clearly hers: soft lighting, a wide bed dressed in white linens, a velvet chair near the window. He told himself he was only looking for her. Then a faint shimmer inside the top drawer of the nightstand caught the light.
He hesitated, glanced back toward the hallway, and slid the drawer open.
The collection inside was neat, deliberate, and extensive. A slim black wand. Several plugs in graduated sizes. Soft leather cuffs. A small flogger with suede tails. A few items he didn’t immediately recognize but whose purpose was unmistakable. Everything was clean, carefully arranged, and clearly well-used.
A slow grin pulled at his mouth.
*My slutty little sister.*
The thought landed hot and unbidden. Images from the last time they were together flickered behind his eyes—her on her knees, the way she had begged, the way she had taken him. He reached out and brushed a fingertip over the handle of the flogger, still half-smiling—
“What are you doing in here?”
Serena’s voice cut across the room, sharp with feigned outrage.
Eric turned fast, the drawer still half-open behind him.
Serena stood in the doorway.
For a second he forgot how to breathe.
She was wearing a white lace thong that sat high on her hips and did almost nothing to hide the soft curves of her ass. A matching sheer bra cupped her full C-cup breasts, the thin fabric turning nearly transparent under the bedroom light, nipples already visible against it. Long bunny ears rose from a white headband nestled in her honey-blonde hair. On her feet were sky-high white heels that made her legs look endless. And behind her, attached to the top of her thong panties, just above her perfect ass, a white fluffy pom-pom tail swayed with every small shift of her weight.
She looked unreal—expensive, filthy, and completely deliberate.
Serena’s eyes flicked from his face to the open drawer, then back again. The corner of her mouth curved in a slow, knowing smile.
“Find something interesting?”
Eric shut the drawer with a soft click, heat already climbing his neck. “I was looking for you.”
“Mm.” She stepped fully into the room, the heels clicking lightly on the floor. Her gaze landed on the slightly imperfect roses visible through the doorway and the two glasses of wine waiting in the living room. “Are those for me?”
“They were prettier before I ran into someone downstairs.”
“Oh , stop it,” she said glowing, her smile reaching her piercing blue eyes, “I love them!”
He grinned, proud he made the extra trip, it was worth it to see her beam with joy.
“I got you a little something too!” She said.
“I see that,” he said, motioning to her sexy outfit.
She laughed, soft and warm, “Not only that silly,” then reached behind the door and produced a small folded bundle of fabric. When she shook it out he recognized the pieces immediately: an old Boy Scout neckerchief, a slightly faded sash, and a campaign hat that had seen better years.
“I found these in a box of your old things at the penthouse last year,” she said, eyes bright with mischief. “They still smell a little like camp.”
Eric huffed a surprised laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“Put them on.”
He raised an eyebrow, but the look she gave him left no real room to refuse.
She helped him strip down to his black boxer-briefs, then let her drape the neckerchief around his neck and settle the too-small hat on his head. The sash barely fit across his chest. They both started laughing when the hat tipped forward over his eyes.
Serena stepped in close, smoothed the sash with both hands, and looked up at him through her lashes.
“There,” she murmured. Serena’s fingers lingered on the sash, a small, teasing smile on her lips. “My very own Boy Scout,” she said softly. “Who would’ve thought?”
Eric caught her wrist, eyes darkening.
“I’m not a boy anymore, Serena.” His voice was low, certain. “I might just have to remind you how much I have grown up.”
“Promises, promises, big boy. You better be gentle with this innocent little bunny, or she might just get away from you.”
The playful air between them thickened. She felt the shift and bit her lip, already breathing a little faster.
The air between them changed. The laughter faded into something heavier, hotter. She was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her bare skin and see the faint flush already spreading across her chest. The fluffy tail shifted when she moved, a constant, teasing reminder of what else she might be wearing underneath it.
Eric’s voice dropped.
“Is that what you are tonight?”
Serena’s smile turned slower, dirtier. She reached up, adjusted the neckerchief at his throat with deliberate care, and answered softly:
“Maybe? Do I get a badge if I’m good?”
Eric’s eyes darkened as they traveled over her. The sheer bra, the tiny white lace thong, the fluffy pom-pom tail that bounced every time she shifted her weight. He reached out and gave the soft white tail a light, playful tug.
“That depends,” he said, voice low. “First you have to show this Boy Scout how good of a bunny you will be.”
Eric walked a slow circle around her, fingers trailing over one long bunny ear, then down the bare line of her shoulder, pausing to cup the soft weight of her breast through the sheer lace.
“Fuck,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Look at you. All dressed up like my own personal Playboy bunny.”
“Do you like it?” she whispered.
Eric’s thumb brushed her lower lip, eyes still dark with heat and amusement.
“Yeah.”
“Good….”
Serena turned and walked back toward the living room, the fluffy white tail swaying with every deliberate step. Eric followed, eyes locked on the soft bob of it like it was a target. His heart beat hard against his ribs. The neckerchief felt tight at his throat. The ridiculous hat still sat crooked on his head. None of it mattered. All he could see was the nearly bare curve of her ass and the way the thin strap of the thong disappeared between her cheeks, the tail bouncing just above it.
She picked up both glasses of wine and held one out to him without turning fully around.
“Thirsty?”
He took the glass, fingers brushing hers. “Getting there.”
They drank. The wine was dark and expensive. She watched him over the rim of her glass, eyes bright, then set it down and stepped in close. Her free hand slid up his bare chest, over the sash, and curled into the neckerchief. She tugged him down into a slow, flirty kiss that tasted like red wine and promise.
The second kiss was less polite.
Eric made a low sound in his throat, set his glass aside blindly, and walked her backward until her shoulders met the wall. The bunny ears brushed the paint. He kissed her harder, then dragged his mouth down the side of her neck, biting lightly just below her ear.
Serena’s breath hitched.
“You’ve been walking around in this little outfit all night,” he murmured against her skin, “shaking that tail in my face like you didn’t know exactly what it would do to me.”
She laughed, soft and breathless. “Maybe I did.”
“Then maybe this bunny needs a lesson.”
He wrapped his arms around her lifting her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapping around his waist as she giggled. The fluffy tail was trapped between her ass and his forearm. He rolled his hips once, letting her feel how hard he already was through the thin cotton of his boxer-briefs.
“Teasing a Boy Scout like that,” he said, voice rough. “Wearing almost nothing. Looking at me like you want to get fucked.” He kissed her again, deeper, then pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “You need to be taught what happens when a bad little bunny acts like a slut.”
Serena’s fingers dug into his shoulders. Her voice came out already unsteady.
“Then teach me.” Her fingers lightly tugging the neckerchief at his throat, eyes flicking over the too-small hat and the sash stretched across his chest.
“I’ve been lonely,” she said softly. “Turns out I really like a man in uniform.”
Eric’s mouth curved. Letting her down gently, letting his hands glide up her body, reached up, and cupped one full breast through the sheer white lace. His thumb brushed slowly across her nipple until it tightened under the fabric.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice low. “You’re sluttier than I ever could have imagined.”
Serena laughed, the sound warm and unashamed. Her hand slid down the front of his boxer-briefs, finding the hard length of him and stroking him slowly through the cotton.
“I think you like it.”
“Fuck yeah, I like it.”
He pushed her back against the wall in one smooth motion, mouth claiming hers in a deeper, hungrier kiss. The bunny ears bent slightly. Her hand was still trapped between them, still rubbing him. When he finally pulled back just enough to speak, his voice was rough.
“I couldn’t take my mind off you.”
Serena pouted, lips still wet from the kiss. “And here I thought you called because you cared.”
Eric bit the side of her neck, just hard enough to make her gasp, then soothed the spot with his tongue.
“I do care…”
He hooked a hand under her thigh and lifted it high against his hip, opening her. The fluffy tail shifted.
“…which is why I’m about to teach this naughty little bunny a lesson.”
Eric slid a hand into her hair, fingers tightening just enough to tip her head back, and kissed her hard.
He kept the pressure of his body against hers, one thigh sliding between her legs so the hard ridge of his cock pressed directly against the damp lace of her thong. The Boy Scout neckerchief still hung loose at his throat; the sash cut across his bare chest.
“Such a bad little bunny,” he murmured against her mouth. “Teasing an innocent Boy Scout all night. Shaking that pretty tail. Looking at him like she wants to get fucked.”
Serena rocked against his thigh with a soft whimper.
“I did this for you,” she breathed.
“I know you did.” He bit the side of her neck, then soothed it with his tongue. “And here you are. Trapped between a wall and a hard place.”
He rolled his hips slowly, grinding against her, letting her feel every thick inch through the thin fabric.
“You’re going to stay right here and take what you’re given. No hopping away. No closing these pretty legs. You’re going to be a good bunny and let this little boy use this wet little cunt until he’s satisfied. Say it.”
“I’ll be good,” she gasped. “I’m a good little bunny.”
Eric groaned at the words and kissed her again, harder, still grinding against her in slow, deliberate circles that kept the roleplay alive even as the heat between them climbed.
Eric hooked his other arm under her thigh and lifted her completely off the floor. Serena’s back hit the wall harder. Her legs wrapped around his waist, high heels digging into the backs of his thighs. The fluffy white tail pressed into the wall, making her moan.
He reached down, shoved the front of his boxer-briefs under his cock, and dragged the thick head up and down the soaked lace of her thong.
“Already this wet for me?” he growled against her mouth. “My lonely little horny bunny. I knew you wouldn’t be able to walk away from this… us… you even did like I asked,.. came back to me even dirtier.”
Serena whimpered, hips trying to rock against him. “I wanted to be ready for you.”
“Good girl.”
He pulled the thin lace aside and pushed into her in one slow, deep thrust. The stretch made her cry out.
She was tight, hot, and so wet. She felt every inch of him as her body slid down his shaft down to the hilt without stopping.
“Fuck…” Eric’s forehead dropped against hers. “You feel that? How full you are already?”
“Yes…oh god, yes…”
He started fucking her against the wall, deep and steady at first, then harder. Every thrust hitting the deepest parts of her core. Serena’s moans turned high and broken. Her nails dug into his shoulders. The bunny ears bounced with each impact.
“Oh my god…Eric…you’re so thick…”
He groaned at the sound of her voice and started moving, fucking her hard into the wall. Each thrust drove her higher against the wall, the impact sharp and relentless. Serena’s head tipped back, mouth open, the moans pouring out of her without restraint.
“Fuck…yes…oh fuck…I missed this…”
“You like that, don’t you, little bunny?” Eric rasped, voice rough with lust as he pounded into her.
“You like getting caught by this Boy Scout and stuffed full of cock?”
“Yes…oh God, yes…”
“Say it properly.”
“I like it… I like getting stuffed by your big fat dick…fuck, Eric you’re so big…”
He gripped her ass harder and snapped his hips faster. The wet, filthy sound of him driving into her filled the high-ceilinged room. Serena was louder than she had ever been—raw, open screams mixed with broken moans that echoed off the walls. She clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, completely lost in it.
“Listen to you,” he growled against her ear. “Screaming for your brother’s cock like the slutty little bunny you are. Louder than you’ve ever been. You love being my dirty fucking slut, don’t you?”
“I do… I love it…I love your dirty little slut Eric…please don’t stop….I’m so close…”
Eric fucked her harder, using the wall for leverage, burying himself to the root with every brutal stroke. Her voice only climbed higher, desperate and shameless, filling the luxurious apartment with the sound of how completely she was coming apart for him.
Serena clung to him like she might fall if she let go. Her arms locked around his shoulders, nails digging hard into the bare skin of his back hard enough to leave stinging crescents. Every time he drove forward she held on tighter, using his body as the only anchor while the wall kept her trapped and open for him.
“Fuck…Eric….oh my god….”
“That’s it,” he growled against her ear, never slowing. “Scream for me. Let the whole fucking building hear how much you love getting ruined by your brother.”
Her nails raked down his back as he slammed into her again, harder. The angle kept her completely pinned—thighs locked around his waist, back flat to the wall, nowhere to go but onto his cock.
“You feel that?” he rasped. “How deep I am? How this tight little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for me?”
Serena’s voice broke as his thrusts hammered into her in quick succession, high and shameless. “Oh fuck! Yes! Fuck me harder! I want to fuck like rabbits!””
Eric gave her exactly that. His hands gripped her ass tightly, holding her open as he pounded into her with long, punishing strokes. Each impact drove her up the wall an inch before gravity dropped her straight back onto him. Her screams turned continuous, broken only by desperate, sobbing breaths.
“That’s my girl,” he snarled. “Taking this cock so fucking well. Screaming like a whore while your brother ruins you against the wall. You’re never going to forget who you belong to after tonight.”
Serena’s body was already shaking, the pleasure coiling so tight it hurt. Every brutal thrust drove the thick length of him dragging over the spot inside her that made her vision spark. Her nails clawed down his back as the first warning flutters began around his cock.
“Please—” she gasped, voice high and broken. “Please be a good boy—make me cum—please, Eric, I need it—”
Eric’s grin was dark and feral against her throat. He fucked her even harder, the wet, heavy slap of his hips against hers echoing through the apartment.
“You wanna cum all over my cock, you sexy little slut?”
“Yes—yes—”
“Then beg for it.” His voice dropped into a rough, commanding growl. “Beg, and Scout’s honor… I will ruin you tonight.”
Serena didn’t hesitate. The words spilled out of her in a desperate, shameless rush.
“Please—please let me cum on your cock—I’ll be so good, I’ll be your perfect dirty bunny, just make me cum—please, Eric, please ruin me—”
“Good girl.”
He adjusted his grip on her ass, tilted her hips, and drove into her with short, devastating strokes aimed straight at that swollen place inside her. The pressure snapped.
Serena’s orgasm crashed through her like a wave. A raw, high scream tore from her throat as her pussy clamped down hard around him in violent, rhythmic pulses. Her whole body seized—back arching off the wall, thighs locking around his waist, nails digging deep into his shoulders. She came so hard her vision went white, the pleasure rolling through her in long, uncontrollable waves while he kept fucking her through it, never slowing, forcing every last tremor out of her.
“That’s it—cum on it—soak your Boy Scout’s cock like the filthy slut you are—”
She could only sob and shake, still cumming, still taking every deep thrust as the orgasm wrecked her completely.
They stayed locked together as the last waves of her orgasm rippled through her. Serena’s body trembled against him, thighs still clamped around his waist, breath coming in soft, broken hitches. Eric kissed her slowly—deep and claiming—while she shook, swallowing her quiet whimpers.
He brushed his lips against her ear.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Doesn’t it feel good to do what I tell you, little bunny?”
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and dark. A small, dazed smile curved her mouth.
“Yes…”
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