𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 | chance x m!reader
pairing: chance (date everything) x m!reader
summary: chance finds himself adoring your character for the upcoming campaign more than he thought he would've. i mean, who wouldn't when you made it yourself? or was it just because he's unaware that he loves you?
warnings: mutual pining, D&D mechanics, smut (cosplay, semi-roleplay, shibari, foreplay, biting, unprotected sex, graphic description, chance being a mess), dombot m!r, aftercare. grammatical errors, english is not my first language.
a/n: i had this idea for a while as i'm watching Once Upon a Witchlight, until i saw a sketch of chance from a user (@ teddisura) and decided, y'know what? fxck it, i'm writing it while you use my D&D character. enjoy!
Words can't explain how excited you were for the upcoming campaign.
The idea originally came from Chance—obviously— who, one day, came up with a plot of a party filled with strangers who lost something in a certain carnival when they were young. Each player returned to the carnival once more, drawn to find the lost piece they had been stripped away from.
Now, the rest of the adventure is up to Chance as the dungeon master to continue the plot.
The campaign was a five-player campaign, but turned into six for Parker to join in along with the office desk buddies. It's been in the plans for many weeks now, and everyone was excited that they made their own characters per Chance's approval as the DM. He was still brainstorming worldbuilding, and yet he was doing quite well.
You kind of admired Chance for his creativity. Have you seen him DM'ing? Along with his talents to improvise, and do voices. Yes, the character voices that never fail to fluster you when it has the chance.
However, despite everyone’s excitement, you were troubled. Troubled by the fact that your character has potential, but you couldn't come up with anything that they have lost. Let alone any backstory that connects with it.
Simply put, you need some help.
You fetched some coffee from the kitchen and decided to bring one for Chance too, and maybe some snacks before you beelined your way to the office door.
The mugs are in both hands, and a bag of chips was dangling between your teeth. You nudged the office door open and entered the office quietly.
There, you see, by the window was another set of carpet with three bean bag chairs and a small table near the window. You made some alterations in the office in cases like these.
Chance was sitting on one of the bean bags, hunched over while he read, with papers scattered everywhere.
There was something so alluring when he was deep in focus, especially when your d20 looked like he hadn't slept a wink. Some of his hair sticks out in odd directions, and there is evident exhaustion under his eyes. It was… kind of concerning.
You quietly approached him when he was still distracted to notice your presence as you carefully leaned the coffee mug near his cheek. The aroma that wafted through his nostrils was enough to disrupt his focus as he flinched, and ruby eyes were now staring at you in surprise.
“Oh, [m/n]!” Chance squeaked, causing you to snicker through your teeth when the bag of chips was still dangling. He quickly took the mug from you, before you took the chips from your mouth and placed them on the coffee table.
“Look at you, concentrating.” You mused and plopped on the bean bag beside him.
Chance's eyes glanced from where he was when you took a sip from your mug, and reached out to one of the papers that were scattered on the carpet. Chance inaudibly gulps through his coffee, as you read through the contents in concentration.
The air between you was nothing but comfortable, yet somehow the d20 was nervous.
“These look amazing…” You hummed, still reading through the sheet. Unaware of how Chance shifted in his seat.
You set your mug down, and your eyes finally turn to him, smiling. “I'm not spoiling myself here, am I?”
Chance shook his head and chuckled. “No, you're good.”
You let out a breathy chuckle and read some of the sheets again in a different paper, it was the details about the carnival this time. However, you were distracted. There are multiple and legible inks that resonate with his handwriting, where some of the letters are smaller or tilted than others.
It was still beautifully written, though. Your thumb swiped over the inked letters as your eyes finally turned to Chance.
“You should take a break and rest for the day.” You suggested out of worry and you can see how his eyes softened.
“No worries! I'll be fine!” Chance reassures you. But the way you're looking at him tells that you were unconvinced. “Besides, Parker finally sent his character sheet.”
“No, yeah. You have to let me see it, Chance.” A small laugh bubbled from the pits of your throat. You really wanted to see what Parker had come up with as someone who has a different expertise and viewpoint on games.
“His sheet was a little odd, but it did the job.” Chance chuckled alongside you. But then his gaze shifted to another topic. “Speaking of character sheets…”
“...You still haven't sent me yours.”
You visibly flinched under his eyes, and your instincts brought you to look away. It felt like you were caught red-handed. You were trying to look like you don't need a hand and be subtle with your approach to your sheet.
Seems like you weren't being subtle enough. And Chance was immediately immersed in your problem; there's no escaping now.
“Oh, yeah.” You breathed out. “About that, I'm actually struggling coming up with a backstory for my character and also about what they've lost…”
This causes Chance to perk in interest. His DM mode is on. “I see… You're a rogue right? Can I see your character sheet?”
“Uhm… sure.”
Voice laced with uncertainty, you stood from the bean bag and approached the desk drawer to get your sheet. But not before knocking softly to alert Jerry to the sudden sunlight. There was now a brown folder in your hand, and you sat on your bean bag again and handed it to Chance.
You watched him open the folder, and the longer Chance stayed silent while staring at the papers, the more nervous you were getting. You were almost certain it wasn't that bad. But of course, he's the expert here. Not you. Every second that passed felt like torture if he kept staying silent like this. Now you're convinced that it sucks.
“Huh.” It was only one word with three letters.
You raised a brow at the lukewarm reaction, not knowing what to say. And it seems Chance doesn't know either as the d20 turned another page.
“Is it really that bad?”
He was suddenly quick to interject.
“No–! Not at all!” Chance’s hands immediately and frantically waved as if he were swatting flies just to reassure you. Then his eyes darted back to the papers from the grasp of his hands.
“It's just… wow. Wow. Holy crit, a tabaxi? I never expected you would choose a tabaxi out of all races!”
You could feel yourself flush from the d20’s excitement. Maybe you didn't mess up your character after all. Chance really loved it by how he gushed over the sketch of your character that you drew a day ago on the side of the paper.
You cleared your throat to regain your composure; and tried your best to be normal in the conversation. “Well, he's a snow leopard tabaxi…”
This seems to shock Chance even more. “And you're struggling with a backstory??” There was a small snicker from him, and it immediately turned you defensive.
“Hey, I can't help it if I want to make him a complex character!” You laughed along with Chance who shook his head. This is perfect.
It's just what he needs, a complex character to create a little discourse—or not—for the party. Someone very difficult to get along with.
You don't want to exaggerate but you can almost see the multiple cogs on Chance's head turning. As if he were plotting something good. He looked super mischievous when his glasses reflected and his fingers linked together with a smirk.
Before you can say anything, Chance tapped the folder in thought one last time before turning to you.
“How about holding a session? In that way, maybe we can experiment with some of the scenarios that best fit your character.” He suggests, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you couldn't quite put a finger on.
But, wait a minute, a session?
“What? Chance, no.” You frowned in quick disapproval. “You already have your hands full because of the campaign. You need to rest.”
“I know, and I will! Besides, I really need a session. All this brainstorming is frying my mind.” Chance's excitement didn't falter despite your worried eyes, and he grins at you softly, to say that he really needed a break from all the thinking. You curse at yourself for falling into his pleading, doe eyes.
You reluctantly gave in. “Rest for the week then you'll get your session.”
Your voice was firm, demanding even as Chance watched you cross your arms with a serious expression on your face. He looked at you starstruck, then to your leopard tabaxi sketch, then to you again.
One week's rest. Seven days with no brainstorming or sessions, just resting. But after all this, he'll get the session he wanted whether he delays the campaign or not.
For the sake of your character, Chance agrees without hesitation.
Imagine his struggle for seven days when he couldn't stop thinking about coming up with a backstory for your character. Liking the design was an understatement for the d20, because he loves it to the point he's fanboying.
The white fur with dark leopard patterns, clad in medieval clothing, leather straps, alongside protective shoulder and knee pads, and a large cloak cascaded over the features. Oh, Chance has the perfect backstory for this. Your character is up to perfection.
Your character design was amazing, but the stats are the cherry on top. It’s a perfect balance of racial traits and skills. Holy crit. He's obsessed and you don't even know.
Don't get him started on how similar you and the character are in a way. There's this mannerism you and the character both share that Chance couldn't point out.
Now he was getting excited about how they would sound and act. He's so obsessed, and why wouldn't he? It's you and your own creation, yourself projected into a character.
Oh, he's crushing so hard.
“Are you ready for the session?” Chance gets to finally ask after a week, as he feels nothing but excitement.
Meanwhile, you take in the fresh demeanour. So well-rested that his lips curled into a grin, and his eyes gleamed with a whole new glint. It was a bit out of place, you think, but it shows he really needs the rest.
You smiled. “I'm ready when you are, dungeon master.”
The session begins with a simple childhood memory that turned into an adventure in the years your character has grown. Chance narrates every scene alive and voices all the NPCs you've come across, setting every scene and details just for you.
You also became immersed in playing your character, and adapted a personality that suited them the best. You acted gruff, and your voice rasped down to a pitch that the d20 somehow found alluring.
The way a genuine smirk curls to your lips when your character speaks with one of his NPCs, a mysterious glint in your eyes as you spoke rather hoarsely.
It wasn't surprising when Chance finds himself staring at your determination to stay in character, awestruck at how you made the tabaxi rogue alive.
He felt somewhat a bit feverish, stealing subtle glances whenever you spoke with a firm tone. As if you were talking to him, and not the character he voiced. Your voice lulls him in similar to a siren’s song.
Now, Chance felt conflicted at what attraction he had of your character or was it just because of… you?
“You feel the snow crunch under your boots, movement exhausted and weary from the escape. It could've ended badly, but you managed to pull out.” Chance narrates. It's been two hours now, and it seems both of you aren't stopping soon.
“You notice the sun beginning to set, and you look at the forest cascaded with snow before you, there was nothing but trees and the path you followed subconsciously. You need to find shelter, anywhere is fine, just enough to hide you from them.”
You hummed in thought. “Can I… roll for perception check if there's anything that I could possibly notice?”
Chance swallowed unnoticeably, he just likes it when you ask and initiate to roll. As if he's speaking to someone as experienced as him. Knowing what to do and what to say next.
It wouldn't be a surprise when you know how to act since you have played a lot of G&G before, and had him as your trusty d20.
Chance replied with a calm yet small, “Go ahead.” before you rolled your dice, and to your luck rolled a 14, right above the difficulty class.
“Thanks to your keen eyes, you notice a small light emitting through the snowstorm and when you trudge cautiously towards it, you see the sign hanging above the door. It was an inn, looking lively in the middle of the forest.” Chance says and you enter the inn after you didn't find it suspicious.
“There was a hunched figure, presumably the innkeeper, who stood behind the bar counter wiping washed glasses. He noticed you entering by how he lowered the glass; ‘Welcome to the Iced Inn, traveller. How could I be of service?’ he greets you.”
You grinned lightly at how Chance voiced the Innkeeper, tired without a care in the world. You shifted back to your character when you realized you caught yourself in a daze and cleared your throat. “I walked up to the counter and said; ‘How much for a room for the night?’”
The accent that your character has rolled perfectly off your tongue and Chance was smitten once more. It was too much, you were too much. The tips of his ears, along with the skin over his cheekbones became searingly hot.
Just the sight of you being so immersed in your character coils heat into Chance's abdomen, the way your tone tickled through his ears. He was downright flushed, and you didn't even notice him squirming on the carpet.
Both of you didn't know what came over Chance, as his attitude shifts into someone bolder than before. His narration was nearly unwavering.
He really needs to stop looking at you. That's the thing—he can't. Not when Chance needs to act fast. So he does, with a drink that the innkeeper offered. Just a drink, so quick and simple while you waited for the room service to finish upstairs.
You found this odd where the offer felt out of place. You immediately asked if there was anything the innkeeper put in your drink behind your back.
Chance requests for you to roll, and luckily, you managed to roll past the Difficulty Class. The innkeeper placed nothing in your drink but edible juices concocted together and lime.
Once the glass was in your hand, you inspected the liquid given. There was nothing suspicious in it at all.
“I look into my glass and see nothing but the swirl of lime reflected with the various concoctions that the innkeeper placed into it. Reluctantly, I swallowed every drop in one full swig, and put the glass down with a thump.”
Nothing happened. The drink tasted how it normally tasted. It’s sweet, with a hint of a sour aftertaste. You were conflicted by the sudden shift in the air.
The die sounded like he panicked when he came up with the sudden improvisation. You suspected he had something to do with your drink or he had forgotten what's next.
But, alas, it wasn’t. Much to your surprise.
Until you failed a roll. Insight check, right below the difficulty class. Chance took it as an opening and sprung into action where the innkeeper immediately jumped onto with such speed.
You were at a disadvantage, he said, as tendrils wrapped around at a good portion of your torso. An ambush.
Before you could react, there was a flash imagery about a pair of canines that could resemble a vampire's teeth reaching out to plunge your throat. The innkeeper was a vampire in disguise after all.
Yet in the rules of G&G, the scenario has become even more confusing.
There has to be some kind of mistake.
“Uhm, Chance?” You called out and the said d20 was quick to set his eyes on you, a look of attention displayed over his face.
“I hope you didn't forget that tabaxi’s have immunity against vampire venom, and that they have advantages on combat rolls.”
That was when Chance realized his biggest mistake. He had gotten too bold and too forward into narrating that he almost forgot that you were a tabaxi. He made a huge mistake… Holy crit.
Sputtered apologies are what's left of Chance as he succumbed into the pits of embarrassment. He had one job. One! And now he blew it all up. He just wanted to crawl into a hole now and rot in eternity.
He shouldn't have decided to be bold in the first place. Now look at what happened! So much for crushing on a character that he forgot their race.
“Wow…” You muttered out after witnessing his meltdown. Trying to lighten up the mood, you gently laughed. “You’re really desperate to bite my neck that bad, huh?”
Your intention was to tease him, and your delivery certainly reached the expectation but what you didn't expect was Chance's prolonged silence. You stared at him when he hadn't moved an inch.
He completely turned away from your hardened stare as if he was found guilty of a crime that he certainly committed. His palms were moist as a bead of sweat trails down to his cheek, he couldn't look into your eyes. Not yet.
“I– I mean– Uhm…!” He immediately shuts his mouth close at the failed attempt to speak.
Chance's face burned a little hotter than before, as he finally squirmed on the carpet under your gaze. His silence was not something to deny that he, in fact, is desperate to bite your neck. Just the thought makes your cheeks burn.
Your laughter was long gone, leaving you to tilt your head in need of an answer.
“If I allow you to, would you do it?”
You never missed how Chance’s eyes snapped to meet yours in shock, and probably without missing a beat. One minute you were apart, the next he was kneeling before you on his knees trying so hard to compose himself. Chance was silent, assessing as his hand made its way to the back of your neck.
“A-are you sure about this..?” His voice muttered, his eyes never leaving the bob on your Adam's apple. Uncertain, was all he was.
Your eyes glimmered, barely noticeable. “Why not?”
That causes Chance to swallow and feel something pulse. He didn't know where but he was certain it was from him. His eyes deliberately look back at your state and let both of his hands guide you.
Your voice lowers when he tipped your head back, and revealed the skin beneath your chin. Bare and unmarked. His stare lingered on your throat from quite some time, till he exhaled shakily.
“H-here I go…” It turned into a whisper that you can barely hear.
You couldn't point out if it was to warn you, or to reassure himself, but it somewhat worked either way. You feel him lower his head until shaky breathing from his nose caressed your skin. He was nervous, and you can tell. The way his jaw opens to bite it on your skin that was laced with hesitancy gave it away.
You braced yourself when his teeth finally grazed the skin below your Adam's apple and winced when he sunk himself into a bite. Your hand instinctively launched itself to his shoulder and scratched his dice-design hood. Heels digging onto the carpet as you let his bite shift into soft nibbles, his tongue finally lapping on the mark.
Chance slowly reels back and admires the tan color that was clearly out of place on your neck. Your expression was of pain that slowly calmed down.
It was quick, but you silently hoped there was more. Very unaware that Chance was exactly thinking the same thing. But you were bolder than Chance was and you beat him to it.
“What else are you considering?” You finally ask.
Nevertheless, you didn't miss the way his face contorted into shock and after a few minutes, he stared at your eyes intently. Pondering and taking your question into his consideration.
His eyes somehow glimmer after a certain unspoken thought and you look at him with a smile, that was nothing but inviting and consensual.
“Chance. This is…”
Although, you really didn't expect to be in a situation like this. Wearing the familiar clothing of a certain character you specifically created.
That wasn't all. But there's a red rope tied around your torso with all kinds of knots, and the tightness caused you to sit upright or else it would tighten.
“I’ve always known that you weren't innocent. But my tabaxi? Really?” You look at him with a look that was nothing but filled with bewilderment. You and him were at a loss of words for completely different reasons.
You couldn't pinpoint what has gotten him to do this, but it was now evident that he adores your character a little too much. Something happened in the past seven days, you just know it since he clearly has the time to find this costume for you. It lacked details, specifically the embroidery, but the garments were surprisingly accurate.
“W-well, I can explain– But I'm not– y'know.” Words seem to fail Chance when his eyes catch your knowing gaze, filled with recognition. He shrinks away in guilt and looks away. You snorted after he proved your point.
You were actually flattered that someone loved the character you made, you almost feel kind of jealous when it was Chance out of all people. I mean, if you met a cool and handsome tabaxi in real life, fantasy-wise, you'd fawn over him too.
Now, here you are; cosplaying as the said character. Tied up, and sitting on a bean bag with the culprit kneeling before you who also bit your neck.
It wasn't a surprise that Chance was capable of such perversion, but at the same time you wanted to test how far he can go. He's cute when he's embarrassed, and you will do it again if you have to.
You see him fiddling his fingers on his lap, avoiding your gaze as an idea strikes you. You won't know unless you try.
“Innkeeper.”
Chance flinched when the swell of the character's gruff accent beckoned out of blue. His head snapped to look at you and see a mischievous tug on your lips. You looked so superior in this position, and smug. So in character. He gulps and you notice.
You leaned back at the bean bag, legs manspreading, until you leaned forward and stared directly into his quivering eyes.
Your boot was raised and you placed it on his lap, directly above his inner thigh. His eyes were immediately blown into saucers.
You smirked. “If you want to touch me so desperately, you could've just asked.”
It didn't take long for you to squirm beneath him and one thing led to another as you found yourself writhing from the sensation that pounded at your rim. Your shoulders to your head stiffly laid on the bean bag for support while your body was positioned sideways. Legs folding to let Chance do his work.
His fingers, deliberately slow and surprisingly thick, thrusts it in and out of your ass and repeats the motion until he can finally scissor you loose.
Heaving breaths would escape your lips whenever the thick flesh drags on your insides. As if it was making sure to feel every crevice, and savor every plush warmth despite your rim tightening around his fingers as your cock leaks pre.
It also didn't help that you were bound by rope, where every squirm would cause the restraints to tighten around your torso and arms. It was nowhere near as comfortable but it wasn't uncomfortable either.
Not to mention that you both were still clothed as your pants were lowered to your knees. Although it seems a silent agreement was in place and you both find it rather sensual and exciting.
“Cat got your tongue, traveller?” Your eyes widened at the voice when you snapped your head at Chance in shock. A soft smirk was on his lips. Encouraging you to talk back as if it was still part of the session.
“Th-that's a bit i-ironic isn't it?” You tried your best to reply but the warmth pooling on your abdomen and ass refrained you from doing so.
His fingers were too thick, it let your words fail you, your confidence from earlier long gone and was replaced by gasps and restrained moans.
Chance watched as your torso curled forward, an attempt to hide yourself, with your eyes avoiding his intense gaze that existed from the start. You were trying so hard to bury your head into the bean bag out of pleasure that it fueled Chance to want more.
He needed more of you. Every twitch, every furrow, every moan, every reaction that he caused; he needed to see it.
“Not when you're under me.” His voice stood firm and confident that you wondered where Chance was able to get that. But your attention was diverted when his fingers pushed your walls apart and pushed his fingertips deeper. Until they suddenly curled and hit your prostate.
“Hrgh-?! Fuck!!” Your eyes rolled back in your head as your teeth bit your lower lip to ground yourself. But the pleasure was too much to handle. Your cock leaked, and it twitched when Chance's fingers grazed your prostate again.
You silently gasp, and your eyes widened at the overwhelming sensation. Your toes curled inside the boots as your back arched backwards.
Chance bit his lip as his face contorted into satisfaction, his hair disheveled when he saw your body trembling under him. Because of him. His teeth marks on your throat bobbed in anticipation with your mouth parted for air, glossy with your drool.
That's when your eyes captured his gaze that was filled with expectancy and pleading. You know what it meant, and you couldn't push him away. It wasn't that easy.
Instead, you invited him closer. Chance leaned forward to your face and suddenly, a strong force slammed itself onto his lips, taking him back surprised. Your tongue, as hot as it can be, ravished his own. Chance may be good at pleasuring, however, you had the upper hand when it comes to kissing.
He practically melted and became this moaning mess when your tongue evaded his throat. You can see his ruby eyes roll to the back of his head with his brows tightening that make your cock twitch.
If only you weren't tied up right now.
You pulled away much to Chance's dismay as you admired your work. His pleading eyes were brimmed with tears and desperation, his face flushed, and his lips glossed with your spit.
You simply hummed in satisfaction. He looks so pretty like this, with his hair messy and sticking everywhere, his glasses askew. Disheveled in pleasure.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed movement. Your eyes darted below, and saw his crotch slowly grinding your thigh, then you saw the desperate expression on his face. Needy. Your legs twitch from the grinding.
Chance leaned down and rested his head on your bare hip, nuzzling his forehead on your skin tenderly.
“[m/n], I want to cum with you…” He was still rocking his hips, sighing shakily and you know that he knows better than that.
“Where are your manners, Chance?” Your voice was soft. Yet it sliced through those tensed shoulders of his, and shivers.
He bashfully raised his head from your hip, and you can see how flushed pink he was. Mixing his embarrassment and aching arousal where you can finally feel his erection rutting against you.
“Please, please… I promise I'll be good.” He whined into your ear. It still didn't help the fact that his fingers were still prying you open for him. Never leaving the insides of your plush, gummy warmth. You slightly thrashed, the ropes tightening as you do so but you eventually calmed down.
“Okay, alright...” You sigh, exhaling shakily. “We're both guys. You don't have to go easy on me.” His eyes glinted by your words that goes unnoticed.
You'd absolutely abolish this man if it wasn't for the restraints. The need to ruin him was clearly evident in your head as an objective. Wrecking him into a sobbing mess while you ride him or let him rut into your hole in oblivion.
Of course, who are you to deny his plea when this nerd with broad shoulders was practically begging just to be inside you? Couldn't be you.
The ruffling of his clothes echoed through your ears, and you breathed heavily when warmth flushed your forehead. Your heart was beating against your ribcage from the excitement and nervousness as his hands turned your body to face him.
Placing your legs around his waist after he tugged your pants off, leaving you wearing your boots with your torso still clothed. In response, you interlocked your ankles behind him to steady yourselves.
That was when something warm was placed on top of your erection, his cock. Your eyes widen when it lightly slapped your skin with pre already dribbling from the slit and the girthy base looming over yours.
You swallowed nothing but thick drool. The man before you moaned as he dragged his cock away, the underside grazing against your twitching base.
You shuddered with vigor when you could feel his tip prodding against the rim, and smearing his slick against your puckered hole. It was a good thing he’d prepped you beforehand. Chance slowly pushed himself inside while your eyes widened from the sudden stretch.
He was thick. First it burned and made you wince but Chance knows better and lets you take your time to adjust. Peppering your lips and jaw with kisses in hopes to distract you.
It didn't take long before you wanted more and now he was rutting against your hole while picking up the pace. Chance sinks into you with a loud whine when your tight rim clenched around his fat base. Both of you fighting off your orgasm. There was a stretch on your ass that you couldn't help but notice, his cock prying you wide and it nestled into your hole.
“H-holy crit–!” Chance whimpered as he subconsciously leaned forward in hopes to fill you with nothing but him, and only him. His heavy weight pressed against yours so you can clamp all of him, his nails printing crescents on your hips while his cock squelches and plugs you full.
The air is knocked out of your lungs whenever he thrusts himself further inside your walls, dragging and impaling you over and over. Just the thought of him dominating you and using you felt electrifying. Blood rushed to your head, and you felt like you were on fire.
The tip of his cock thrusts upright with a curve and your eyes suddenly roll to the back of your head when his tip prods against the bundle of nerves.
“Sh-hit, Chance...!” You choked as your arms thrashed behind your back that arched backwards at the pleasuring intrusion. Your nails thrashing on the ropes in hopes for your escape.
Shaky breaths and moans escaped from you both and Chance picked up his pace for your satisfaction, wanting to please you. He kept thrusting while tears swelled in his eyes as he leaned his weight forward again to capture your lips.
You obliged despite your knees buckling and your breaths shaking. You still managed to dominate every crevice of his mouth that worked wonders on him and you didn't notice the way his hand snaked at your roped back and gripped onto the knot where your hands are.
Your cock twitched from the lack of attention, bobbing in sync with his thrusts. You and Chance were a complete mess, dazed while his tip would constantly thrust onto your prostate while the d20 savored going further into your gummy walls.
You were close, and so was he. The moans of your name escape him with bated, shaky breaths as he inched himself closer to you—if it was even possible. Meanwhile, you let him rut and gasp when heat begins to coil your groin.
Chance's thrusts slowly turned sloppy but he kept the fastened pace nonetheless and pounded away. That was until a sharp snap to his hips, and your eyes widened when you finally noticed his vice grip on the tied knot behind you and used it to pull your weight upwards on top of him.
“Wh– Wait! Chance–!” Your vision momentarily turns flashing white when Chance slams your hips down onto him, impaling your puckered hole with his cock until his tip reaches to the furthest peak inside you.
Your toes twitch and curl, with your back and head arched backwards when sparks of sensitivity strike through you. The tight sensation on your torso adds to the pleasure.
You couldn't fight the overwhelming sensation when your teeth made its way to his neck, finally marking him with a dark color that was similar to yours.
You came untouched, your release coating Chance's torso who hugged you closer to him and buried his head onto your shoulder.
His hips stuttering, pumping his release inside your plush warmth. Ruby pupils rolled to the back of his head as he drools to the pleasure, whining and whimpering. Rolling his hips to prolong your orgasms.
Heavy breaths ensued on you both and you stayed in the same exact position as you calmed down. Shaky inhales and exhales soon transitioned into calm breathing, and you fell limp on top of Chance who securely wrapped his arms around you. Both of you took the time to recollect your sanity, leaning on each other for comfort.
Until, you felt something—still—penetrating you where something thick and hot in your stomach pools. Painting your walls with such massive amounts. You raise your head from Chance's shoulder who looks at you and you stare at him, perplexed from the realization.
“Did you just…?”
“So… What was that about, hm?” You lightly chuckled while observing the evident rope marks on your arms, especially your hands where every curve was imprinted in your skin. You leaned back to the wall, and sat on the bean bag like earlier but more refreshed than ever. The afterglow was really something else.
You look at your hands and try to stretch them out. It was sore. Technically, all parts of you were sore as hell. Both of you had really gone out. Nonetheless, the aftercare was amazing. Chance really provided everything. From cleaning you up, letting you rehydrate with water, helping you dress comfortably and more.
Meanwhile, the said d20 was back kneeling on the carpet, again. His post-nut clarity snapped him out of his lust-drunken trance and realized that he came inside you. He didn't even hesitate to carry you to the bathroom to wash you up. Constantly spitting his apologies while he carried you everywhere.
What does he even say? How do people do this? Chance doesn't know. He’s just the trusty d20 who was mistakenly crushing over a character. When in truth, he actually just loved the creator—you—more who made the said character. He realized that he liked you more than a friend. He loves you.
“Oh, so you love me?” Your voice piped in, laced in amusement.
Holy crit. He didn't mean to mutter that out loud. Holy crit, he doesn't know what to do. Chance looked up from his lap and saw that soft look on your face, smiling, as if you already knew. If you do, he'll just have to crawl into a hole and hide. Eventually Chance nodded, admitting, when he saw you waiting for a response.
“W-well, you're handsome, gentle but sometimes tough to people who wronged you and despite that, you're kind. You're always there for us, you’re considerate, and you also love G&G. You're amazing, and—”
“Woah! Okay, I get it.” You let out a lighthearted laugh, palming at your red face to hide the obvious color of your flush. You expected him to say that you love G&G as him but you didn't expect a full list. Somehow, you feel your stomach flip.
“I'm so sorry…” Chance shrunk despite his broad stature, he was red in the face and your gaze softened in pity. He looks like a puppy, sopping wet from rain.
He was probably expecting to be rejected. I mean, there's a lot of options around the house. It was reasonable when you choose the other options. This thought was clear on his face, and you understood it quickly. You sighed, and you ignored the pain on your body when you cupped his cheeks and dipped into his lips for a short kiss.
Chance was stunned yet slightly disappointed when he didn't get to savor your taste when it happened so suddenly. It didn't help when you immediately pulled away just before he could reciprocate back. Watching you lick your lips subconsciously.
“I like you too. More than a friend anyways...” You grinned brightly, but soon you shook your head. Your choice of words was the worst.
"Wait, fuck— I love you too, Chance."
“Holy crit, really?” His eyes widened, his rubies twinkling as you nodded.
“Mhm. I should probably take you out on a date.” You suddenly let out a loud laugh when you realized how ironic this situation that you have gotten yourselves into. Chance looks at you in confusion as your laughter soon subsided.
“It’s just… confessing your feelings to each other doesn't really happen right after having mind-blowing sex." You then shrugged. "Especially, when you're my first."
Another realization dawned upon Chance, as his face immediately blew a fuse. He didn't know, he was unaware that this was your first. So basically, he stole your... Holy crit! You watched when Chance was back in his muttering bubble and you sweat-dropped.
You couldn't even blame him since you were the one who egged him on. Leading you to wear your character's clothes and well… you already know the rest.
Chance managed to calm down once more and he looked in your eyes, before looking at your lips, then at your eyes again. You shook your head, and leaned in to capture his lips against yours once more. This time, you both savored how tender it was, and taking your time.
You're going to be the death of him—and he's going to be the death of you.
“About the costume… uhm…”
“Chance, lover, I already know.”
“Oh.”
a/n: this is all i got (for now), internet's been cutting me off due to storms and earthquakes, so stay safe ya'll. hoping to release the pt2 of dirty fantasies before the semester starts. (my D&D knowlegde is a bit rusty cuz i'm only self-taught for 5 years with zero real-life player experience. damn...)
