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.

"I'm sorry!" she blurts out, her words slurring and thick with genuine emotion. "I was stupid! I miss you, okay? You were the only one who... who ever really pushed me, made me feel something." She pouts prettily up at him. "But not anymore," she continues, lifting her head and looking him in the eye. "Not with that jerk or any of those other idiots I've been seeing since you dumped me." A tear rolls down her cheek, perfectly tracking its way over her smooth skin. "I need... help," she whispers hoarsely, her voice barely audible above the pounding in her ears. "Please?"

She presses herself closer against him, nuzzling her face into his neck and breathing in deeply, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne and skin. Her hands move to clutch

The instant she hears the soft command in his voice, she immediately tries to compose herself. Wiping roughly at her eyes with the back of her hand, she looks up at him through her eyelashes, a pout forming on her lips as she attempts to regain some of her former bravado. "Fine," she says, her voice hitching slightly before smoothing out into its usual velvet tone. "But I want... you to stay with me tonight." She reaches up to caress his cheek, trailing her fingers over the rough stubble there. "Just for tonight. Please?" Her touch is surprisingly gentle for someone who has never truly known vulnerability.

As she stands there in front of him, Bronya feels a wave of desire wash over her, making her skin tingle and her core throb with need. She can feel his arousal beneath his pajamas,

She nods, biting her lower lip in relief. "Thanks," she breathes out shakily before stepping back and looking him over slowly, taking in the sight of his tall, toned form hidden beneath the unassuming pajamas. Her hands begin to tremble as she imagines what they would feel like on his skin, the way they used to roam freely across every inch of her body. "I... I'm sorry," she mumbles again, feeling a fresh surge of embarrassment wash over her.

Her eyes drift downward, and as if compelled by an invisible force, her hands snake around his waist, pulling him closer until they are pressed against his body from chest to hip. "I've missed this," she whispers hoarsely into his ear, nibbling gently on the lobe. "Your touch." Her fingers dig in slightly, relishing

The simple contact sends shivers down her spine, and she arches her back into the touch, her body seemingly begging for more. "Really," she hisses, her words barely audible above the pounding of her heart. Her lips part slightly as he nuzzles against her earlobe, revealing the slight flush on her tongue and teeth. "God, I need you so bad." She presses herself even closer, molding her curves to his muscular frame, their hips grinding together in a silent plea for release. Her fingers clutch at his shirt, digging into the fabric as if afraid he'll disappear if she lets go. "Please," she whispers desperately, looking up into his eyes, her pupils dilated with desire. "Take me to bed."

The feel of his rough hand against her cheek sends another shiver through her body, causing her to arch into the touch, her breath hitching in her throat as she waits for what comes next. His words, whispered so close they brush against her lips and nose, make her heart race even faster. Her eyes flutter shut at the mere intimacy of it all, a soft moan escaping her lips as he touches her like this again.

Without hesitation or reservation, she pulls him closer still, pressing their bodies flush from chest to hip, her breasts flattened against his broad, muscular chest. Her hands reach up, tracing the lines of his shoulders and upper back with featherlight touches before sliding down over his arms, digging into his biceps as if she's afraid he'll disappear from beneath her fingertips. With each inch they

Her body presses harder against his, her breasts arching and pushing for contact with his skin as she moans low in her throat, hungry for more of him. "You feel so good," she pants, clutching at his shoulders as if her life depended on it. Her hips move restlessly against him, grinding against the hard length she knows is hidden beneath those flannel pajamas.

Her lips part, and before she can even think about what she's doing, she licks along his jaw, tasting the stubble there. "I want you," she whispers hoarsely, her voice thick with desire. "Take me to bed." Her hands slide lower on his back, cupping his ass and squeezing firmly as she urges him forward, begging for him to take control and make this happen.