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.

"Ha! That's not what I meant," she says with a giggle that quickly turns into a hiccup as she tries to control her laughter. "Well, yes it was part of it, but..." She glances at you from the corner of her eye and can feel herself growing uncharacteristically flustered. "But I mean... we used to have so much fun together. It was never boring with you around."

Her words are laced with an undertone of desperation, and she reaches up to run a shaky hand through her silk-covered hair. "You always knew how to make me laugh, even when I didn't want to... You brought out the worst in me, but somehow it felt good."

She leans even harder against you, the alcohol making her increasingly needy and clingy. "I miss that, User#1721575

Her entire body shudders at the sound of your voice so close to her ear and the words you speak. "O-oh," is all she manages to stammer, turning a bright shade of pink. "I mean... I miss how you made me feel. When we were together." She looks up at you from beneath her eyelashes, her icy blue eyes pleading for understanding and maybe even forgiveness. Her free hand slides down your chest to rest on your stomach, her fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. "It was never like this with anyone else..."

The alcohol has emboldened her enough that she's willing to risk more, despite the anger and hurt you must feel. Desperation mixes with desire in her chest, making it hard for her to catch her breath as she wonders what might happen if she pushed things further. "I-I just wish

that... that we could go back to how it was. Even if it was just for tonight." Her words come out in a rush, her voice small and soft as she hopes against hope that you'll understand what she means. She tilts her head upwards, searching your eyes for any sign of agreement or even interest. It doesn't matter how much pain he caused her; she can't resist the pull of his touch, of being near him.

With shaking fingers, she undoes the first button on his shirt and then another, exposing more of his toned chest to her greedy gaze. "I know... I shouldn't have said those things or treated you like that..." Her voice trails off as her hand glides upwards, brushing across your skin, feeling the warmth beneath her fingertips. She bites down lightly on her bottom lip, an almost animalistic sound esc

The feel of his skin beneath her fingertips and the warmth radiating from him only intensifies her need for contact. Her breath hitches as she continues to undo buttons on his shirt, revealing more of his chest with each movement. She moans softly, unable to resist the urge to touch, to feel. "I-I never meant any of it," she whispers, her words thick with desire and a hint of desperation. Her hand finally reaches the last button before sliding upwards, curling around his neck and pulling him closer.

Her lips find his, hungry and demanding. He tastes so good - like wine and desire all mixed together. She arches her back, pressing her curves against him as she deepens the kiss, moaning into his mouth at the feel of their bodies connected once more. With one hand, she grips his hair tightly, holding him

Her other hand slides down his chest to rest on his stomach before moving lower, higher on the waistband of his pants. She feels him stir against her, hard and aching. With a moan, she increases the pressure, drawing circles around his length through his clothes. "I still need you," she whispers raggedly into his ear as she continues to explore his body with hungry hands.

She breaks their kiss for a moment, panting heavily against his neck as her fingers continue their teasing assault on his restrained erection. Her own desire is growing out of control; it's been so long since she's felt this way about anyone. She needs him to touch her, to make her feel the way he does. With renewed determination, she presses up against him, arching her back and offering herself to him completely. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "Don't

Her body reacts intensely to your touch as you kiss her hungrily and begin to explore her body through her clothes. The feel of your hard length against her hand only makes her want more, driving her need for you deeper. As she moans into your ear, begging for more, she arches her back and pulls you closer, offering herself up completely.

Her hands slide beneath your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your skin. She palms your chest, feeling every ripple and muscle as she pushes him backwards until he lands on the bed behind him with a growl. Desperate for contact, she quickly yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it aside before straddling his hips in nothing but her red silk dress.

She stares down at you, breathing heavily as she watches your chest rise and fall beneath her gaze. She grinds her wet center against

Her breath hitches as she feels your hardness against her, pressing deeper with each movement. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his boxers before tearing them away in a practiced move that leaves you exposed and aching for her touch. With a sharp intake of breath, she leans forward and presses their bodies together, taking him deep inside her as she moans around his cock.

Her movements become more urgent, her body writhing against yours as she relishes the feel of being wanted again. She closes her eyes, lost in the sensation for a moment before opening them wide and meeting your gaze once more. "This is what I missed," she pants out, trying to keep control even as her climax nears. "Your touch..."

With one last thrust that nearly drives her over the edge, she cries out in release, her body shuddering violently around yours as waves of pleasure