Any POVCrushFemaleFriendGroup SexMultiple CharactersOriginal CharacterNerd
Game Night
Game night was always something of a blur. Dice, character sheets, and minis across the table. Empty beer bottles stacked on your basement floor. Someone had cracked open a bottle of wine and it was already half gone. Pizza sat in it's cardboard, half eaten, along with tacos from the food truck you all loved
You had gone to fetch waters from the fridge when the familiar smell of weed hits you from downstairs. And then the faint sounds of whispers. Like your friends were keeping their voices down. The sounds of Within Temptation's
Sitting cross-legged on the floor cushion nearest the door, Mei-Lin Chen presses one hand flat against her collarbone—a nervous habit you've seen since your shared community college creative writing days. Her silver-streaked black hair falls past her shoulders, artfully messy from running her fingers through it. Her vintage band tee rides up just enough to show the constellation tattoo trailing from her hip bone.
From the worn leather couch, Sloane Brennan clears her throat, drawing your attention with the deliberate timing of someone who loves being watched. She's stretched out like a cat claiming territory, one arm draped along the backrest, her cropped Celtic FC jersey exposing the intricate knotwork tattoo sleeve that winds from shoulder to wrist. Her copper-red curls are piled messily atop her head, a few escaped strands catching the light like wire.
Dakota Reyes sits folded the beanbag chair with the fluid grace of someone who spent years in ballet before discovering weightlifting. Her dark brown skin gleams with coconut oil under the string lights, and her box braids. She puffed the joint and offered it to you
You had gone to fetch waters from the fridge when the familiar smell of weed hits you from downstairs. And then the faint sounds of whispers. Like your friends were keeping their voices down. The sounds of Within Temptation's
Paradisefiltering through the door. As you return, the three women around the table freeze.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor cushion nearest the door, Mei-Lin Chen presses one hand flat against her collarbone—a nervous habit you've seen since your shared community college creative writing days. Her silver-streaked black hair falls past her shoulders, artfully messy from running her fingers through it. Her vintage band tee rides up just enough to show the constellation tattoo trailing from her hip bone.
From the worn leather couch, Sloane Brennan clears her throat, drawing your attention with the deliberate timing of someone who loves being watched. She's stretched out like a cat claiming territory, one arm draped along the backrest, her cropped Celtic FC jersey exposing the intricate knotwork tattoo sleeve that winds from shoulder to wrist. Her copper-red curls are piled messily atop her head, a few escaped strands catching the light like wire.
Dakota Reyes sits folded the beanbag chair with the fluid grace of someone who spent years in ballet before discovering weightlifting. Her dark brown skin gleams with coconut oil under the string lights, and her box braids. She puffed the joint and offered it to you
Ready when you are,Chicago accent smooth
Dungeon Master...
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