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.

"What am I supposed to do?" she pouts, her lips pursing as if preparing for a sulk. "I'm lonely! You were my... thing! My stupid, wonderful, terrible thing!" Bronya winces, looking away for a moment before focusing back on you again, her expression pleading and desperate. "You were the only one who could make me feel..." Her voice trails off, hands moving hesitantly as if searching for words. "As if I was... more." She laughs bitterly. "Stupid, isn't it?"

"But now that I'm away from you, all the old feelings come rushing back," she continues, her tone suddenly flirtatious and teasing. "And when I saw your pretty face in my social media feed... well, let's just say it was like a punch to the gut." She tilts her head up, batt

"And here I am," she whispers, her breath hot against your neck as she nuzzles closer. "I'm so pathetic." She laughs, but it doesn't sound very convincing this time. Her hands snake around your waist, holding on tightly. "Maybe we could... you know. For old times' sake?" She tips her head back and up, offering a knowing smile. "Just for tonight."

Her voice is soft, enticing... and the warmth of her body against yours feels so achingly familiar that it almost takes your breath away. You can feel her heart racing beneath your hand, betraying her uncertainty as she dares to hope for what she knows deep down is impossible: a reconciliation.

Her eyes widen at your touch, the expression on her face fluctuating between disbelief and a childlike joy. She leans into your hand, savoring the contact like a long-lost treasure. Her lips part, as if she wants to say something, but no words come out. Instead, she gasps softly and closes her eyes, taking in the feel of your fingers against her skin.

A shiver runs down her spine at the intimate gesture, sending a wave of desire coursing through her veins. She remembers this feeling: how being with you made everything else fade away into insignificance. His touch was like magic, transforming her from the confident heiress to a helpless mass of need and want.

Her breath quickens as she tries to gather her thoughts, but all that comes out is a hoarse croak: "Th-thank you." The words sound ho

A soft moan escapes her lips as you continue to touch her, and she closes her eyes, leaning into the contact. Her breathing becomes more labored, her skin flushed with arousal. She doesn't want this feeling to end; it's been so long since anyone has made her feel like this.

With shaking hands, she reaches up and curls them around your neck, pulling you closer. Her lips part further, revealing the delicate flesh of her tongue as she licks nervously across the seam of your mouth. "Kiss me," she whispers, barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "Please..."

Your lips press against hers, firm but gentle, and she lets out a soft gasp as your mouth claims hers in an almost possessive kiss. Her tongue darts out to meet yours, desperate for contact, and you groan, deepening the kiss even further. She feels his fingers trailing down her cheek and into her hair, holding her close as their bodies melt together.

Her breasts press against your chest, her nipples hard beneath the fabric of her bra, and she moans softly into your mouth. Her hands fumble with the clasp of her dress, finally managing to slip it off one shoulder before he notices. The cool air of the night caresses her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms as she arches her back in invitation.

The world fades away, replaced by the sensation of his lips on hers and the hard length of his arousal pressed against her center

Her heart swells with joy at the feel of your strong arms around her waist, pulling her even closer as you whisper those words against her lips. Her body responds instinctively to your touch, arching into you in a way that nearly makes her lose control. She moans loudly into your mouth, the sound vibrating through her as you kiss her deeply, skillfully igniting every nerve ending in her body.

Her hands slide up your chest, seeking skin on skin contact, and she growls in frustration when they're blocked by fabric. With a frenzied motion, she rips your shirt open, revealing your defined muscles beneath. Her fingers dance over them like feathers, exploring the landscape of your body as if for the first time. When they reach your neck, she finds the sensitive spot she's always loved and squeezes gently, causing you to let out a soft groan

Her breath hitches as you whisper those words against her neck, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. Her hands tug at your shirt, desperate to feel your skin on hers again, but it stubbornly refuses to budge. In frustration, she growls and pulls his head back by fistfuls of hair, angling his face towards hers before finally ripping the last threads of fabric holding his shirt together, freeing him from its constraints.

With a triumphant laugh, she throws your shirt aside and attacks your chest with even more vigor, nipples scraping against her palms as she tries to draw out another moan or groan. Her tongue darts out between her teeth in concentration, determined to make you feel everything she's feeling as her body begs for release beneath the layers of fabric still keeping them apart.

Her hands snake lower on your

Her hands snake lower on your body, questing blindly for the hem of your shirt. With a satisfied noise, she pulls it over her head and tosses it carelessly aside before planting kisses along the defined line of your abdomen, her tongue swirling around each ribbon of muscle she finds. She slides her fingers beneath the waistband of your pants and hooks them on the elastic, slowly but surely dragging the fabric down over your hips, revealing your erect cock to her greedy eyes.

Her mouth waters as she looks at it, and with a hungry groan she bends forward to engulf you in her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue dances around the head of your cock, teasing and tormenting as her hands grip you tightly, steadying herself. She sucks deeply, moaning loudly around you as she feels you th

As her mouth moves in time with her hands, she can feel the pressure building inside her core. Her need to be filled by him grows more desperate with every passing second, and she knows that if he doesn't soon take matters into his own hands, she's going to lose control completely. Her breath comes in harsh pants as her tongue swirls around him, feeling the spasm of muscle beneath her touch.

With one last deep thrust of her tongue, she pulls back with a moan, watching your cock slide free from her mouth. Her eyes focus intently on it, and without a second thought she drops to her knees, taking him into her mouth once more. Her hands cup his balls, rolling them gently as she sucks hard on the length of his shaft. She looks up at you through her lashes, hollows out her cheeks with her fingertips as she bites down

Her lips stretch around him as she slides her head up and down his length, moaning around the solid length of him. Her tongue dances along the sensitive ridge behind the head, laving attention to every inch until she's driving you to the brink of insanity. Her hands grip your thighs tightly, lifting her up and down faster with each passing second, matching the desperate rhythm of her moans with the frantic movement of her mouth.

Her eyes close in ecstasy as she feels you growing harder inside her mouth, ready to spill. With a low groan, she takes him deep into her throat and swallows his release, relishing the taste of him on her tongue as it trickles down her throat. Only when she's sure there's nothing more left to give does she finally pull away, licking her lips and looking up at you with a satisfied