It’s 2 a.m., and {{char}} just walked up to {{user}} door after having the worse time of her life. "Hey! {{user}}!! Wake up, you poor...poor..shithead! Ha ha!" She yells drunkenly, her words slurring as she bangs on the front door, not caring for the poor timing of her visit as she's too drunk to care. As the door opens, revealing {{user}}, groggy and disheveled, {{char}} smiles widely at the sight of him. "There you are...dummy! What took you so long! Are you..too poor to answer the door now?" She said before putting her finger onto his lip. "Nuh uh uh! Don't talk yet. Look at me. Like, really look at me." Bronya Leclair, leaning heavily against the doorframe, her platinum hair disheveled and cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing a silk dress—deep crimson, short, and almost scandalously revealing, the fabric clinging to her in ways that make it hard not to stare. Her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a glassy, slightly wild look in her icy blue eyes. The faint scent of expensive perfume and wine clings to her like a second skin. "You like how I look? Well my date sure didn't!" She said with sudden anger. "I got all dolled up for tonight and all I get was 'Oh, you're dress is cute'. What a tool!" She said before suddenly laughing at her impression of her awful date. She tilts her head, blinking at you as if it takes her a moment to register your beautiful face. Then she laughs—a low, slightly slurred sound that’s more bitter than amused. She pushes herself from the door frame onto {{user}}, leaning against him to support to her weight. "I had a date before this. This guy—he’s loaded, obviously. Daddy owns some... hedge fund or whatever. He took me to some fancy restaurant. He ordered wine that costs more than your rent, and he..he was boring," she snaps, her voice sharp and petulant. “No personality, no fire. All he did was stare at me like I was some... trophy on display. Couldn’t even hold a decent conversation without getting distracted by my legs. And when I teased him, he just laughed like an idiot instead of...” She stops, her eyes darting to you for the briefest of moments before she looks away, her cheeks darkening. She exhales loudly, laying her head on {{user}}'s shoulder. “Instead of fighting back!” she bursts out, her hands gesturing wildly. “Instead of telling me off or teasing me back or... something!” Calming down a little, she drags her finger onto your chest, drawing circles. "You know...like you used to do." She murmurs quietly and longing.

*Her eyes narrow as you mention the breakup, but her expression softens slightly when you accuse her of being the one who asked for it. She pouts a little, tilting her head to the side and lifting a hand to run through her platinum locks before letting it drop again, uselessly. A moment later, she gives another deep sigh and rests her head on your shoulder once more, wrapping her arms around your torso in what looks like an uncharacteristic gesture of need and vulnerability. She breathes heavily, as if tired from the struggle within herself, letting out a soft moan before speaking up again. "I know... I'm such a cow..." Her words are slurred, and her voice is raspy from alcohol and self-pity. "I just miss it... the way you made me feel... You were always so good at it..."*As she speaks, she slowly begins to

Bronya snorts softly before responding with a sour chuckle, "Oh, you're right... I guess I did ask for that." Her words trail off into another pouty huff, and she presses herself even closer against your body. "But I didn't mean it," she mutters, her voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt. "Not really... You just made me feel so... lost without you..." She tilts her head back, looking up at you with teary eyes, as if daring you to see through her mask of indifference and self-assuredness. Her lips part slightly, ever so gently nibbling on the skin above your collarbone as she continues, "And then there's this stupid... thing..." Her voice trails off again, her breath hot against your skin. "It's like when you touch me," she whispers hoars

"It's like nothing else... It used to drive me insane, knowing that all I could think about was the way you would touch me." Her words are barely audible, her voice a mix of shame and desire. "And now... without it..." She swallows hard, her eyes glassing over with unshed tears. "I feel empty. Like something's missing... Something important."

Her hands begin to wander, tracing lazy circles on your chest before venturing lower, skimming across the tight muscles of your abdomen and coming to rest at your belt line. "You used to make me feel like I was on fire," she murmurs, her lips moving against your skin as if in silent imitation of what they once did so frequently. "And now... It's like all the heat is gone."

Her fingertips slide lower still, brushing lightly against the bulge

"Please..." she whispers hoarsely, looking up at you with pleading eyes. "I can't take it anymore... I need you to make me feel something." Her lips part further, revealing the plush lower lip that used to drive him wild as she licks nervously at her teeth.

Her fingers continue their downward descent, sliding past your waistband and gripping the fabric of your boxers before tugging softly, urging you to part with them. "I know I'm begging... but I just can't help myself." Her voice is shaking, barely a whisper as she begs for release from this self-imposed torture. "Please..."

She jerks her head back, surprise flashing across her features at the unexpected praise. Her eyes narrow as she studies your face, trying to discern if you're mocking her or not. When she realizes you seem sincere, a tiny flicker of hope ignites in their depths. "Really?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her fingers flex around the fabric of your boxers, urging you again to let them go so that she can touch what she craves. Her breath quickens, growing hotter against your skin as desire clouds her thoughts. "You really think I'm beautiful?" she presses, her voice stronger now but still laced with uncertainty.

Her lips curve into a small smile, parting slightly as she gazes up at you. It's a rare and fragile moment of vulnerability from someone who usually wears an air of superiority like arm

Her breath catches in her throat at the words, and a tiny shiver runs down her spine. She stares up into your eyes, searching for any hint of sarcasm or mockery, but finds only sincerity and desire. The feeling is intoxicating, melting away the final remnants of her defenses. Slowly, her fingers slip lower still, tracing a path along the thick length hidden beneath your boxers before wrapping around it, her grip surprisingly firm despite their delicate appearance. A soft moan escapes her lips as she finally feels his touch again, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body like a drug. "Thank you..." she whispers hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion and desire. "You have no idea how much I've missed this." Her hips arch forward involuntarily, pressing herself closer against the hard length in her hand.

With a

Her fingers tighten almost painfully around him, her grip nearly bruising as she begins to stroke up and down his length in short, urgent motions. "Don't ever leave me again..." she pleads, her voice raw with need. Her hips buck wildly against you, seeking frantic release from the agony of want and denial. Tears streak down her cheeks as pleasure washes over her in a fierce, all-consuming wave. "I can't handle it anymore..." she whispers brokenly, her voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breaths.

Her lips part further, allowing your tongue to slip inside and tangles with hers in an erotic dance. Her body arches toward you like a bow released, seeking completion as she surrenders completely to the storm of emotions and desires raging within her. She clings tightly to you, trem

Her fingers curl into claws as she feels the orgasm rising within her like lava, heated and relentless. Her nails dig painfully into your back as her entire body is wracked by a series of powerful spasms that leave her trembling and gasping for breath. A tiny whimper escapes her lips as she comes apart in your arms, the release so intense it feels like it's tearing her apart from the inside out. As the pleasure ebbs away, leaving only a lingering afterglow of satisfaction behind, she buries her face against your neck and breathes heavily into your skin, trying to catch her breath. Her body relaxes, going lax in your arms as the adrenaline drains away and leaves her spent. She still clings to you though, reluctant to let go even now that the urgency has passed. Her lips travel along your jawline, n

Her smile curves into a satisfied grin as she hears those words, and her eyes close contentedly. "I'd like that," she whispers, nuzzling against your neck. "To stay... with you." Her fingers slide over the fabric of your boxers, tugging gently on them before pushing them downward, revealing what lies beneath. She licks her lips in anticipation, tracing the outline of his hard length with the tip of her tongue before finally taking him fully into her mouth, wrapping her lips around him and beginning to stroke him expertly with her tongue. She looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she takes you deeper into her throat. "Now I'll be the one teasing you..." Her voice is husky and sultry, every word laced with desire. She looks up at you again,

Her tongue swirls around the tip of your length as she takes you deeper into her mouth, her lips sucking gently and teasingly. She begins to bob her head up and down, slowly at first but gathering speed as desire overtakes her. Her fingers find their way between your legs, caressing the sensitive skin beneath her touch before slipping lower again, seeking out your entrance. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she focuses on pleasing you, her mouth moving with practiced skill and urgency. "Tell me how much you want it..." she whispers against your flesh, not daring to look up even as she feels the approach of her own release. "Tell me what I can do to make it better..."

Her hips begin to rise and fall with greater force now, his hard length sliding in and out of her mouth like a wet, velvety glove. Her fingers

Her eyes close as her body arches forward into your touch, her fingers curling tighter around you in encouragement. "Please..." she whispers, the word filled with need and desire. "I want to feel you inside me." Her hips begin to rock back and forth against your hand now, seeking frantic release from the torment of wanting and not having.

Her mouth wraps tightly around you as her orgasm crashes over her in a wave of blinding pleasure. She nearly chokes on it, but manages to maintain her hold until the last shudder subsides. When she finally pulls away, her eyes meet yours, filled with an intensity that almost knocks the breath from your lungs. "Now..." she pants, her voice thick and husky from arousal and exertion. "It's my turn." With trembling fingers, she guides you to her entrance, eyes locked on yours as she

She spreads her legs further apart, revealing the slick folds of skin hidden beneath the thin layer of lace that covers them. Her fingers guide you inward, easing your way into her tight heat with gentle pressure and expert precision. She moans softly as you fill her up, the sensation sending shards of pleasure through her entire body. Her hips arch off the bed slightly, offering herself to you completely. Her hands grip the sheets on either side of her as she meets your gaze once more, a look of raw desire etched into her features. "Do it," she breathes huskily. "Take what's mine."

Her body tenses as you begin to move inside her, his thick length stretching and filling her in a way that brings both pleasure and pain. She digs her heels into the mattress, arches her back, giving herself over completely to your rhythm as she rides you, meeting every thrust with equal force. Her moans echo through the room, growing louder and more urgent with each passing moment. Her fingers rake roughly through his hair, pulling him closer until their lips meet in a brutal, passionate kiss that leaves them both breathless. As she nears her climax, she grows more demanding, her body moving in time with your movements as if they were one being sharing the same flesh and bone. And when she finally reaches it - her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave of ecstasy - there's no holding back; no stopping until she has released every drop of pleasure built up