One of my personal game design white whales is an OSR game that takes the modern roguelike "core advancement schema is constrained to single runs, plus some sort of auxiliary metaprogression based on rewards for completing runs" and cross-breeds it with the "dungeons are mythic underworlds/fragments of other worlds/living creatures parasitising our reality" conceit that some contemporary OSR games go for to produce a game where the core rules furnish robust character creation procedures but simply have no concept of advancement, incremental or otherwise, and then each individual adventure module has its own context-specific advancement schema which is only effective inside that particular dungeon, and goes away outside of it.
e.g., one dungeon might allow characters to advance by progressively enbodying mythic archetypes to produce something resembling a conventional class-and-level system, save that the "character classes" are specific to that dungeon, and a different dungeon which nominally has the same advancement schema would have a totally different set of playbooks; another might have fully randomised advancement in which player characters acquire weird body-horror mutations that grant mildly game-breaking super powers with no ability to influence which ones they get; and a third might have wholly extrinsic advancement based on acquiring golf-bags full of magic items with oddly specific functions. In each case, progression through the relevant advancement schema would be extremely rapid, such that exploring its full gamut in the span of a single adventure module is feasible, and player characters would "reset to level 1" once that module is complete.
However – and this is the keystone of the entire exercise – we're explicitly not obliging GMs to basically design a whole new game every time they want to roll their own adventure module, because 90% of the text would consist of a long list of modular pieces of advancement schemas which can be plugged together like Lego bricks to produce whatever the dungeon at hand uses, tied together with some sort of monstrous set of Big Stupid Tables which enable advancement schemas to be randomly generated, with the GM's only obligatory responsibility being to invent an aesthetic for the dungeon which justifies these particular elements coming together in this particular configuration.
On Call, the werewolf Dispatching game, IS LIVE! It’s a GM + 1-2 player game where you are not allowed to shift during the full moon phase (the day before, the day of and the day after the full moon) because you have to be On Call in case anything goes wrong with your fellow werewolves or their families!
There’s great news about this game! It’s fully written. So the moment the campaign funds, all eligible backers will get it and a playtest form! I’m just doing this so I can fund an editor, two artist and a layout designer!
In On Call, you play as a werewolf who can’t shift during the full moon cycle (night before, during and after the full moon). Instead you an
Thank You!
This pledge level shows my appreciation to you for helping fund this backerkit! Your name will be listed in the credits and you'll have access to the pledge manager!
On Call PDF
This pledge gets you the On Call PDF, which will be formatted to allow you to print this at home!
Revealed Universe Bundle
On Call is a part of the Revealed Universe, set in a world where the monsters thought to belong to fairytales and horror movies are real and have revealed themselves to the world. I have TWO other games also set in this world:
HuntRPG
YOU'RE AN AGENT
And you're on the hunt. Travel across the United States hunting down rogues, vampires that have decided the laws of society no longer apply to them and spend their days killing and devouring citizens, both the living and undead. Put an end to your fellow vampires, either by killing them or turning them over to your agency - likely for experimentation.
YOU'RE A ROGUE
And you're being hunted. Two things drive you: an all-consuming blinding hot thirst and staying alive and free. Traveling across the United States, leaving scores of bodies in your wake, your life is a constant chase; towards your next victim, away from your inevitable doom.
HuntRPG is a game of cat and mouse, or vampire and vampire. This solo journaling RPG has you chronicling your time as both an agent and a rogue while dealing with the intensities of both positions and the general hardships of being "immortal."
The Gift
For many werewolves, lycanthropy is a gift. Something that is passed down through your family or to others you deem worthy or needy.
The Gift is a solo journaling RPG where you chronicle your experience of being bitten by a werewolf, the week leading up to the full moon, and your first time shifting.
This pledge level gives you the On Call, HuntRPG and The Gift PDFs.
On Call - Free Session (One Player)
I am a professional GM and I want to run this game for you! With this pledge you get all previous pledges plus me running the game for you!
On Call - Free Session (Two Players)
I am a professional GM and I want to run this game for you! With this pledge you get all previous pledges plus me running the game for you and a friend!
So, new idea for a ttrpg, incredibly underbaked.
The game is centered around establishing truths about the narrative, and paying those truths off.
Each person is playing a character in a story, and the game part of it is this, "the GM introduces a thematic element, maybe even multiple thematic elements that the party has to pay off."
So, each player can set up truths in the world. These truths would be divided into different chategories.
Weather physical "I have a gun!"
personal "my past is tragic"
weaknesses, such as "I'm a horrible shot"
Thematic "this is a love story" (these can also be genre, age rating, etc)
the idea is, rolls don't actually determine weather or not you succeed, but weather or not you can successfully establish these elements. Eg, rolling yes and gives you "Yes, I'm establishing that I have a gun, and that I "
and later, you, or other players, can help you establish those truths "quick, you friend, shoot him with your gun!"
and then later, you could pay something off "Im gonna shoot the villain while they are monologing by using my gun!"
but, different tasks the party may want to acomplish in the narrative, would have different narrative weights to them. The highest you can get it 4.
that means to accomplish that task, you would need to payoff atleast one from each chategory.
shooting the big bad evil guy, may only be accomplished, if we are paying four truths, such as.
Physcially "I have a gun"
Emotionally "Im decisive."
Flaw "Im impatient"
and thematically "Justice must be reached"
Which means, I would need to have established, and reinforced, those 4 things throughout the whole of the narrative.
if i was developing it out, it would have some sort of metacurrency situation, that would allow you to like, subvert pre-established things or automatically develop things or whatever else.
My thought it would be "coins" which turns a d4 chart of "yes/no. and/but." into just "yes and/but"
and which can be spend to try and subvert/deepen themes and stuff, and details and whatever else.
Cis women of ttrpg world? Loved the one with trans women, but gods did it make me realize I know very few cis ones.
More Women in TTRPGs.
Hello friend!
For folks who are curious, I did a bit of a deep dive into the many and wondrous ways trans women have influenced the tabletop roleplaying scene a year or so ago.
This one was something that I needed a minute to think about, because there are a lot of folks in the ttrpg world who probably either look like cis women or identified as cis women at one point, but have since then come out as nonbinary or trans-masc. (It turns out being allowed to play with gender in a safe space makes it easier to change it. Who knew?)
There are some designers who, if you had asked me just two or three years ago, might have made it onto this list. So I should probably put in a caveat for this list - all of the designers that I'm listing here identify, to my knowledge, as women. That may change!
Jeeyon Shim.
Shim is a California-based designer who recieved the Diana Jones Emerging Designer award in 2021 for Field Guide To Memory, a connected path game she designed alongside Shing Yin Kor. She describes her games as eclectic and transformative, endeavoring to create connections between those who play them and the world around them. I recommend checking out her game Have I Been Good?, a two-player letter-writing larp between a human and a dog. It is a meaningful day-long ritual in which you embody the feelings of a creature who sees you as an immortal.
You can also check out Shim's latest game, The Longest Rest on Indiegogo. It's a fantasy-horror game about trying to escape a hungry tavern that is bigger on the inside.
Pam Punzalan
Pam Punzalan is a Filipina-Canadian designer based in Ontario. She's contributed to an impressive list of works both inside and outside of D&D, but the games that have her name front and centre include Navathem's End, a PbtA game about trying to stop the apocalypse, as well as The Dagger Isles, a supplement for Blades in the Dark that focuses on a new setting in the Blades universe, drawing from southeastern cultures.
For more of Pam's personal work, as well as a list of the pieces they have contributed to, check out their Itch.io page.
Alex Roberts
Alex Roberts is the genius behind Star Crossed, the game about really, really wanting to when you really, really can't. It's a hack of Dread but takes the horror game and turns it on its head by using a block tower instead! Alex has also designed For the Queen, the game about escorting a queen on a voyage where she will inevitably be attacked. You'll pull prompt cards that flesh out your relationship with her as you play, until you decide whether or not to defend her in the end.
Alex describes her play as one that focuses on care, connection, psychological death and mechanical elegance. While the two games I've listed are the most popular, you might also want to check out her patreon to learn about what else she's cooking up!
Meguey Baker.
One half of Lumpley Games, Meguey Baker is the mother of Apocalypse World, the game that started the entire Powered by the Apocalypse movement.
I'm personally drawn to their game Under Hollow Hills, which comes from the same house of design, but focuses on the circus as a whole, rather than the arcs of individual characters.
You can check out Lumpley Games on Itch.io for their entire library of work. You can also check out the Kickstarter version of PsiRun Second Edition, which Meguey is crowdfunding soon!
Meghan Cross
Meghan is a queer, neurodivergent creator based in New England, and creates GM-less & solo ttrpgs, as well as features on various podcasts, including Protean City Comics and Party of One. She's half of the brains behind HUNT(er/ed0, a duet game about hunting a monster and being hunted. Will you kill your opponent or flee? It's a great game for tense interactions and heightened drama.
Meghan is also the creator of Sanctuary & Sentinel, a solo game in which you play as a guardian of a sacred place. I'm also a big fan of Meghan's games Weeds in the Waste and Project Benthos, both of which can be found on her Itch.io page.
Storybrewers
Vee & Hayley are the duet behind the publishing company Storybrewers, who brought to us game such as Good Society, inspired by the stories of Jane Austen, and Fight With Spirit, a game that pulls from various sports anime. The games written by Storybrewers feel like they pull deeply from the passion for the genres in which they write, and the website describes their style as "games with narrative heart."
Cassi Mothwin.
Cassi Mothwin is the author of Carved by the Garden, a solo folk horror game about someone's last days in the haunted woods, as well as Tangled Blessings, a solo/duet game about the culmination of four years' of schooling at a magical academy.
If you like horror, Cassi is your gal. She does a great job of weaving beauty into the macabre, evoking horror not just in her games, but also in works such as The Wassailing of Claus Manor, and Triangle Agency.
Now for some rapid-fire additions:
Audrey Stolze, also known as LadyTabletop, host of Alone at the Table, freelance ttrpg contributor, and designer of various small games, which can be found here.
Amanda / imatrex co-creates Sprigs and Kindling, a free Carved from Brindlewood anthology with works from various writers, as well as RUIN, an anthology of TROPHY one-shots.
shawk games is a GM & underrated game designer, whose top games in my opinion are Beanie Brigade, Cryptid Conductor and Christ Heist. Seriously, Check Out Her Shit.
gothHoblin, also known as Emma Grier, is a New Zealand designer currently based in the UK; who has many beautiful games, but the one I'm most attached to his her Caltrop Core game Space Taxi.
Agatha Cheng is the co-creator and co-host of Asians Represent, a podcast that talks about Asian Representation in the gaming scene, as well as the writer & game designer of Deadly Society, a murder mystery supplement for Good Society. She's also the co-creator for the game Hearts of Wulin.
Plotbunny Games is a Germany-based publisher and design shop run by Andrea Rick, also known as Curious Cat on Itch. She publishes German version of other games, but she also writes her own!
Navi Drake is one half of A Couple of Drakes, a design duo who made bestellers like Hedge, A Court of Blades and Dead Belt.
Becky Annison, of Black Armada Games is half of the creative team and the primary author of Bite Marks, a game of werewolf dynamics, and Wreck this Deck, a solo card game about demon summoning.
@pidj is an Australian game designer and creator of The Station, a gm-less world-building game centred around a train station, as well as my personal favourite, The Sun's Ransom, a game about doomed vampires saving a dying sun.
Me! MintRabbit! I'm a cis woman - or at least I was the last time I checked! You can check out my stuff here.
Anyways, that's just a short list! I hope you find some great games through these designers!
If you like what I do and want to leave a tip, you can check out my Ko-Fi! Tips are always appreciated. <3
people be like, no one has ever suffered like Mack! he never wins!
may I direct these people to my cursed son Bedard whose glass shoulders and mismanagement of wing support have soured his narrative significantly. not trying to doom….but like people are saying, if anyone needs to be loved - it’s Connor B.
i have been thinking this! this exact thought has actually occurred to me multiple times as the news of bedsy’s latest (😭) shoulder injury and subsequent surgery dropped. it’s genuinely soooo so so sad to me that he’s going to be out for at least 4 months (mid-nov iirc), i did see 6+ months floating around on twitter but at least he has top tier rehab environment/resources 😭 please.. i do not want him to end up actually “injury prone” 😭💔
i’m not exactly sure why but i’m not a huge fan of the “can he be loved” narrative that has really intensified/solidified lately around mack.. like yes, it’s crushing to not win gold at the olympics, go to men’s worlds to try and redeem hockey for his beloved canada, and get eliminated once again as the 19yo captain of the team… yes, he wins every individual award but his teams can’t reach the peak where it (arguably) matters most….. hmmmm…….
like i think it’s honestly lowkey connor mcdavid stolen valor to me (cmd is VERY “can he be loved” to me like i’ve shed real tears i’ve prayed to the hockey gods to spare him his latest bout of suffering for that man lol) and also i think it’s another instance of this ongoing trend of fandom broadly generalizing and thus flattening mack (and usually will and willmack’s dynamic) in a way that allows it to be quickly & easily consumed without much deeper thought and certainly not exploration, tiktok edit style. i understand if someone thinks this take is pretentious, but that characterization richness is genuinely what makes fandom fun for me and it saddens me to see it dwindling away.. and i just don’t think of mack as that tragic, divinely tormented figurehead type!! like. he hasn’t actually suffered that much imo!! his team is viewed as a prime example of a rebuilding team around the league, they’ve placed the crown atop his teenaged head to inherit hockey canada as sid’s hand-picked protege, he has a strength & conditioning wizard for a father and a broad network of professional athletes / access to resources that not even other young guys coming into the league may have even in this very insular, intertwined hockey world…… like. he’s fine!!!! at least kyle davidson isn’t his gm!!!!
maybe it comes from a place of me missing sharksblr/fandom from rookie season, where it was bright and sunny and exciting from the sheer possibilities of the future.. but i still hold all of that optimism and more for mack’s career & growth as a player, leader, and person.. so i don’t really see him as a maligned tormented type.. for me personally!!!! i’m not against the overall concept and would totally read some future fic set 10+ years out where his career did fall in some cmd-like arc, where his individual excellence could not overcome the inadequacy of the front office & supporting cast, how that impacts the wm romantic dynamic, etc etc. but that’s just not how i see mack today in july 2026. so yeah!
The Griffon's Saddlebag: Book Three and Four are coming to Kickstarter on September 1st! The 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙙 illustrated and game-ready items work seamlessly with either version of 5th Edition (5e or 5.5e), and have been vetted by players like you to help ensure consistency and balance. Follow the campaign now at 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙗.𝙖𝙜/𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚! As with previous installments, these books come with an array of GM- and Player-focused options to help further enrich your worlds: - 48 playtested subclasses (4 per core class, 2 per book) - 3 playable races/species - 28 campaign-agnostic settings (and well over a hundred new statblocks to accompany them) —EXTRA REWARDS— 𝙇𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙋𝙡𝙪𝙨 𝘼𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙨: Look forward to digital integration of the books with your support using the Saddlebag's custom and convenient compendium, The Ledger+. Your pledge will allow you to access these items and search, sort, and save them on the fly across your devices, and even create curated loot tables with your collections! 𝙄𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙍𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨: Easily track and reference your magical treasure with item cards for these new books, as well as fresh reprints of older ones! This release recollects and packages these cards into all-included boxes, which features a delightful Saddlebag physical design and a built-in index inside the integrated magnetic lid! 𝙉𝙀𝙒! 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝘽𝙤𝙭 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙨: New with this release are bonus accessories per box of cards, which are based on the box's associated book! That means that your Book One cards will have different rewards than those from Book Four's box! Inside each box you'll find: - 4 postcards featuring new art from the book's various settings - 1 enameled pin - 1 iron-on patch - 1 high quality sticker 𝙉𝙀𝙒 𝙞𝙣 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙩—𝙂𝙧𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙈𝙪𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚: The digital-only and acclaimed griffon bestiary from the second book's Kickstarter is coming to print: with even more griffons! This exclusive reward comes for free to those who pledge for both the new books and their associated cards! Thank you so much for your support! Follow along, and see you in September!
___
✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for as little as $3 a month!
Welcome to my Date Everything era. I am OBSESSED with Chance the D20 it's actually embarrassing lol.
Anyway have a college AU about it.
-----
10k words
GN!reader
No mention of any gendered body parts or hair.
No use of y/n or anything similar.
Chance lifts you at one point, but I generally wrote him as being quite large/strong, so hopefully that isn't too exclusive.
Mostly fluff. Light smut near the end, but it's written to fit the fluffy tone so it's not very explicit.
not beta read 'cause i like to live life on the edge, lol.
-----
"I want to give you the romance you deserve."
"You already have. You gave me a whole world. You gave me a piece of yourself to explore. And, in that world, we're creating something together, just the two of us. Do you really think that isn't romantic? I think it's one of the most sweetly intimate gifts you could give to someone."
-----
"That hits! For...?"
Parker leaned eagerly over the table, baring a feral grin at Chance, who was practically bouncing in excitement behind his DM screen. "48 damage."
Mac whistled. "That's considerably higher than expected."
There was a moment of tense silence while Chance took his sweet time making a note on the pages spread out in front of him. "Well, Parker...." He grinned. "The cult leader is done for. So, how do you want to do this?"
A cheer went up around the table, which was tucked away in an unused corner of the student union building of Valdivian University. The cry was loud enough to momentarily drown out the sound of crinkling chip bags and rolling dice.
The party made quick work of mopping up the rest of the mobs, after that, and Dasha's character, Yakaterina, made a show of sweeping the kidnapped princess into her arms to carry her out of the dungeon. It was over - the last session of this semester's G&G campaign was a success.
As the session wrapped up, Chance took a moment to bask in the excited chatter of his players while they gathered up their dice and character sheets. There was a knock at the door, but it was drowned out by exuberant chatter and masked by similar sounds of books and dice clacking against the table.
Without an answer to your knock, you pushed the door open and peeked hesitantly inside. "Um. Hi?" The conversation died down as five sets of eyes turned to look at you with varying amounts of curiosity and confusion. They would have normally been very happy to welcome a potential new player, but new people usually showed up at the start of the game, not at the end. "Is this the G&G group I saw on the flyers?"
The group naturally looked to Chance to answer, as both their GM and the one who went around posting flyers around campus every semester.
But Chance just stared, saying nothing at all. He was too busy wondering whether fate brought you to his game as a great blessing, or a terrible curse. Because it was definitely one of those two. It had to be. Otherwise, of all the students who could be asking him about G&G, it wouldn't have just happened to be the object of his embarrassingly long and embarrassingly intense unrequited crush.
There was nothing embarrassing about you, of course. No, it was embarrassing because he'd been pining since first year and he'd never had the guts to do a single thing about it. In fact, he had yet to speak a single word to you. And he still hadn't, as of right now. Even though you'd just asked him a question. The silence was definitely getting awkward. He should really say something. But that would require that he remember how to make word-sounds with his mouth parts, and he really didn't know how he could be expected to do that with you standing there looking absolutely hypnotizing. Just the way you did every time he saw you.
See? Embarrassing.
Chairemi wasn't a fan of awkward silences. If Chance wasn't going to answer, then she would. "Yes! Yes, we are a G&G group!" She took a step toward you, wearing a bright but apologetic smile. "But, I'm sorry to say, this was the last session of the semester!"
Meanwhile, Parker was squinting at you, half-sure that he recognized you from somewhere. It took a minute for him to realize that he recognized you as that student from Chance's literature classes. Today, he would be the hero who saved his poor lovesick best friend from himself; he broke the silence with a bright laugh that was only a tiny bit disconcerting, and motioned for you to come in. "Yeah, unfortunately this was the end of our campaign, but we're planning to get some dinner to celebrate, and you'd be welcome to join us! You can get to know us a bit, and then maybe join the next campaign. Right, Chance?" With a bright grin, he kicked Chance under the table to break him out of his stupor.
"Ow, Parker, what--" Chance's voice died as his brain finally caught up to what was happening and his attention shifted back to you. But this time, at least, the mere sight of you didn't just stunlock him all over again. In fact, now that he could remember how to make his tongue work, he was even more gregarious than usual, just for you: his smile brighter, his laugh warmer, his glance accompanied with a blush. "Oh! Hi! Yes, sorry, you're very welcome to join us! I'm Chance, I'm the GM! Have you ever played any G&G before?"
-----
You were folded into the group with remarkable ease, like there was a space for you that had always been there and they were just waiting for you to come fill it. Which made it all the more heartbreaking to realize that you'd have to wait for the entire summer before you'd be able to play G&G with them again.
"Yeah, I know, I wish the timing was better too!" Chairemi sighed dramatically as she twirled her pasta, seated across the table from you at a packed restaurant popular among students. "But Dasha and I aren't from this area, and we both go home during the summer."
"It's too bad my summer internship is in Seattle this year," Mac added. "I got an internship nearby last year, but it doesn't always work out that way."
"We could play some board games instead! The three of us," Parker suggested, pointing at you, himself, and Chance. "The Little League schedule is a mess, so I probably won't be around consistently enough for a G&G campaign, but there are tons of other things we could play!"
Chance leaned a little closer to you with a smile, his shoulder bumping against yours. Just casually, of course. He was definitely not hyper aware of it every single time he came into any kind of contact with you. "We should play 2 v 1, the two of us working against Parker, if we're going to play board games with him. He might seem nice now, but get him across a Catan board from you, and suddenly he's a tyrant."
Parker gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. "How dare you poison our new friend against me like this!"
"Perhaps if you do not wish others to be poisoned," Dasha answered lightly, "you should not be such a snake at board game night."
"Slander!" Parker turned to you with a pout. "They're slandering me. You don't believe them, do you? You should definitely play board games with me!"
As infectious as Parker's energy was, he did come across as a little intense and it really wasn't very difficult to believe that he would be quite merciless in any competitive board game. But you didn't particularly want to say so, so instead, you neatly avoided the question with a distraction; "Did you say something about Little League before, Parker?"
His whole face lit up at the question. Distraction successful. "Oh! Yes! I work as an umpire and...." And apparently, this was a topic he would happily spend the rest of the meal chattering about, if you let him. Not that you minded, honestly. His passion really was pretty cute.
-----
After dinner, you left your number with Chance before heading out, and he totally didn't blush about it. It was just the lighting in the restaurant that made his cheeks look redder than they really were. And besides, there was nothing to blush about. You only gave him your number so he could let you know when the G&G game started up again in the fall, and he was totally, definitely, extremely normal about all of this.
And there was absolutely no reason why his friends should all keep staring at him like they expected him to break into a love song at any moment.
Parker nudged him, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, my friend, you are so gone. Poof. Vanished. Launched into deep space."
Chairemi giggled, nodding along. "Yeah, aimed right for a heart-shaped orbit around Saturn."
Chance was suddenly and inexplicably very interested in staring directly at the empty plate on the table instead of meeting anyone's eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Mac didn't look up from the session notes they were reading on their phone when they scoffed. "Pft. Yes, you do. You're so head-over-heels for them that I actually started to doubt whether love at first sight might be real after all."
Chance peeked up at the group and, finding that his denial was going nowhere, he promptly gave up on it and groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Oh, god. Was I that obvious?"
"To us? Yes, very much," Dasha answered. "But to our new friend? I don't think so. You were focused on them, but not so much more than any GM would be focused on a new player joining his game."
"Or, even if they did notice your interest, they clearly didn't mind," Mac pointed out. "Though I'm surprised that you were so taken with them so quickly. You couldn't even speak when they first walked into the room."
"It wasn't the first time he'd seen them," Parker answered. "He's had a thing for them since first year."
And as embarrassing as it was to explain himself, Chance didn't want to leave Parker to do it for him; not when he was pretty sure Parker would make sure he looked as ridiculous as possible. "It's not that big a deal. They were in a few of my lit classes. They're so..."
There were about a million words that crowded into his mind as descriptions for why he developed such a huge crush on someone he'd never even talked to before. But really, if he had to boil it down to one thing, it was the simple sense that your love of stories mirrored his own. Something about the way you looked when reading, and the way you spoke about a story you loved. He couldn't help but feel like you were a more kindred soul than any he'd ever met before.
But he wasn't going to say any of that without blushing so hard that he'd combust, so he just waved off the comment and tried again. "But I never had the guts to say anything, so I don't think they even knew I existed before today."
Dasha smiled broadly. "And now they know you exist. See? Progress! Next, you must call them and ask them on a date!"
Chance sputtered. "What? No, I'm not going to ask them on a date!"
"Why not?"
"If they say no, do you really think they'll still come to the next campaign? I don't want to risk driving them away because I've made it awkward." He shook his head, resolute. "No. I'm not going to risk it."
The others just looked at each other and shrugged. Parker was already planning to start a pool with bets on how long Chance's resolution would last.
-----
You were lying on the couch in your apartment when your roommate came in. "Hi Betty."
"Oh, hey, sweetie! How was the game?"
You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at her. "Oh, we didn't play. I was just asking about joining the next campaign. Which isn't until the fall semester, unfortunately."
She smiled, putting down her keys and purse. "Well, at least that's something to look forward to, right?"
Flopping back down, you grabbed one of the throw pillows to hug to your chest. "I dunno if I can wait that long."
She laughed softly, and you felt the couch shifting as she sat down at the end by your feet, so you tucked your legs up to give her a little more space. "You're that excited to play?"
Squeezing the pillow, you let out a shaky sigh. "I'm that excited to see the DM again, you mean."
"The DM?"
"Chance." Even just the way you said his name made it painfully obvious just how bad you had it for him already. "Oh my god, Betty. He's so...." Hot? Sweet? Charming? Funny? All accurate, but all felt like they were missing something important. "He's so.... everything. Fuck."
You heard her muffle a giggle behind her hand. "Oh wow, you're really into him, huh?"
Pulling the pillow up to cover your face, you groaned. "It's stupid, right? I've barely even spent 3 hours with him." Well. Except all the times you caught yourself staring at him in class. There was a particular look he'd get on his face when he was really absorbed in writing - it was so impossibly endearing that even just the thought of it twisted your stomach into a tornado of butterflies. But you'd never spoke to him before. You were pretty sure he didn't even know that you existed before today.
"No, it's not stupid at all," Betty assured you. Her tone was all maternal affection, even though she was definitely the same age as you. "That's just how the heart can be, sometimes."
Sitting up with a sigh, you hugged the pillow even tighter to your chest. "I've never had a crush hit me like this before. Like a truck. Am I being too shallow? There's no way I know enough about him to feel this strongly already, right?"
Betty shrugged. "Well, maybe a little of it comes from physical attraction, but why should it be bad to be physically attracted to a potential partner? Besides, I think there's less shallow appeal at work than you imagine. People underestimate how much you can see into a person just by watching the way they speak to friends and strangers, how easily they laugh, and what makes them smile." She paused, tilting her head to look at you with a knowing smile. "See? You noticed all that stuff about him, too. I can tell just from the look on your face."
You hid your face in the pillow again, but this time it was to hide your smile. "You're just trying to make me feel better about having a planet-sized crush on a nerdy dice-boy."
"Yes," Betty answered with a warm laugh. "And it's working, isn't it?"
-----
Counting down the days until the end of the summer semester would be an amazing way to drive yourself mad, so a distraction was in order. That was how you ended up in the local library, wandering through the stacks. There was just something so good about being surrounded by books. They didn't even need to be books that you might like - you were pretty sure half your current aisle was stacked with encyclopedias. But that wasn't the point. Just the presence of books of any kind was a sort of comfort.
You were not expecting to hear a familiar voice floating over the shelves. You couldn't make out the words, muffled as they were through several shelves, but then you heard a playful roar and the shrieking laughter of children.
"I will tear this castle to bits, piece by piece, unless I have the princess!" Chance's voice - or rather, Chance doing the low, gravely voice of an attacking dragon - drew you around a corner where you spotted him sitting in front of a dozen young children who were utterly enraptured in his story. He spread his arms wide in imitation of the dragon's wings. "The great beast took to the air, flying all around the castle and tearing at the highest towers with his mighty claws!"
You got as close as you could while staying out of sight, and hung back just behind a shelf to keep him from noticing you. Maaaybe you should go. The last thing you wanted was to make him feel self-conscious. But every time you gathered up the will to walk away, he'd say or do something that would send the children into another fit of raucous giggles. Every single time, you could always hear his own gleeful laughter right alongside them, and all that willpower seemed to go instead toward making your heart swell a little more. And really, it was probably best for your health if you didn't move around too much while your heart felt like it was trying to burst clean out of your chest, right?
In the end, the brave knight confronted the dragon and saved the day, and the villagers were protected from the dragon's wrath. His little audience cheered and chattered as the story came to a close, masking the sound of his footsteps, which is why you didn't realize he was coming around the corner until he nearly bumped into you.
You jumped in surprise and took a quick step back to avoid a collision. "Oh! Heh. Um. Hi, Chance."
"Oh. God." Chance already looked embarrassed at the idea that someone had been surreptitiously listening in, but then he registered who you were, and suddenly he looked mortified. Taking a step back away from you, he crossed his arms like a shield and stared down at your feet, unwilling to meet your gaze. "Uh. How long have you been standing there?"
"Um... I'm pretty sure I heard most of the story..." you admitted, worrying your lower lip between your teeth and your face burning with regret. You had guessed that he might find it embarrassing, but this was so much worse that you'd imagined. "I'm really sorry, Chance. I didn't really mean to stay so long, I just... It was so adorable, I kept thinking that I'd just stay one more minute, but one minute turned into five, and then ten..." Now you were both staring at your shoes.
"Adorable?" His voice was small, but hopeful. When you glanced up at him again, you found him with his head still low but his eyes peeking up at you from above the rim of his glasses.
The impulse to grab his cheeks and pepper every inch of his face with kisses was so strong that your fingers twitched. God, this man was teaching you some very concerning things about your self-control. Or lack thereof. "Yeah, of course. Are you kidding? That was the sweetest thing I've ever heard."
"Oh." Like a switch had been flipped, his body language changed completely and abruptly. Apparently all he needed was the assurance that you liked what you heard, and he was fine. More than fine, even. "Heh. Thanks!" He stood straighter, which made him seem suddenly two inches taller, and broke into a smile that perfectly skirted the line between playful and openly flirty. He took a step toward you to lean a little too casually against the bookshelf next to you for the motion to be actually casual. His forearm came to rest across the edge of a shelf above your head, his dice-beaded bracelets clacking against the wood. "Though I feel I should tell you, the stories we tell in G&G are a lot more compelling, if I do say so myself."
"You mean to tell me that you don't save your juiciest tales of political intrigue, betrayal and murder for the 6-year-olds?" It was a horrible shame that no one would ever know what a feat you had just accomplished, keeping your voice steady and your smile playfully coy with Chance standing over you like this. Truly, you deserved an Oscar. Maybe a Tony, too.
"Hm." With a roguish smile, he tapped thoughtfully at his chin. "I suppose this means that you're hoping for some political intrigue in the next campaign? Good, I have some particularly twisted ideas I've been saving up for the right player." You couldn't quite figure out how he managed to make it sound like he was flirting with you when he said that, but the way your heart was hammering in your chest said that it worked. Or maybe he wasn't doing it on purpose at all, and you were just down so bad that you were ready to hear anything he said to you as flirting.
"You can't just say stuff like that and then expect me to survive the wait until September," you complained. "I came here to find distractions from the wait, not to find even more reasons to count the days!"
And just as you were learning how to withstand his mischievous flirting without melting into a puddle in your shoes, his energy changed again; now he was all bashful joy, giggling - giggling! - with glee at your complaints. "I'm so glad you're excited too!"
Excited? Yeah, you were. In more ways than one. This man was going to give you a heart attack. He was a genuine danger to society, being that fucking cute. "I swear, if G&G didn't need a party, I'd kidnap you to run something for me right now."
Oh. Chance wanted to smack himself for missing what seemed, in retrospect, so obvious. Since you'd come looking for a group, he'd just assumed that you weren't interested in playing one-on-one. But oh, he could see it now. Weaving a tale together was a perfect opportunity to learn more about you. Not to mention that it would mean spending hours alone with you. A tiny but annoying part of his logical mind pointed out that probably was a bad idea if he actually had any intention of keeping his feelings hidden from you. But he wanted to, so badly that the thought of it made him giddy, and that was enough to quash his doubts completely. He had plenty of self-control, right? He'd be fine. Nothing to worry about. "I could run something for you, if you want. No kidnapping required." Not that he'd mind that, either.
"You.... oh." You felt kind of silly for not thinking of it before. You'd never heard of G&G being played without a whole party before, but there was no reason why you couldn't, right? "But that's, um, it's a lot of work to make a campaign, just for one player. Are you sure?"
"Yeah I'm sure!" The exclamation tumbled out of him faster and louder than he'd intended, leading him to clap his hand over his mouth with a blush. "Uh. I mean, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. And I do. I want to play with you."
Surely, surely he knew how that sounded. But he was looking at you with such earnest enthusiasm that you really couldn't tell. Not that it mattered. It's not as if it would change your answer, either way. "Yeah, I would love that."
-----
Chance normally booked that room in the student union building for his games. It was easier than trying to find a place to play every week. But since the semester had already started, Chance discovered, to his great dismay, that someone else had swooped in to book the usual room out from under him.
There was the option of inviting you back to his apartment, but that had the problem of being simultaneously both too intimate and not intimate enough. Mostly because, when Parker wasn't around, just knowing that his bedroom was right over there might be too much for him to bear. And when Parker was around, then... well, Parker would be around. Not that Parker's presence was normally a problem, but he really liked the idea of it just being the two of you.
In the end, he found a quiet little corner in a lesser-used student lounge; a couple of old, over-stuffed couches gathered around a low coffee table. The table wasn't perfect, but it would do. Besides, he didn't need quite as many notes for a single-player campaign, anyway.
The story that unfolded between you was one of grand, swashbuckling adventure. Your character served as the captain of a ship in a world of scattered islands, where naval power was paramount. The story began with a king's request for your aid in preventing the return of a usurper. And so you set off, with your skilled and loyal crew at your side, to find this usurper and prevent the civil war that he aimed to ignite.
Chance always let you bring one of your crew with you when you went ashore. The idea was that you could, with some preparation, make an educated guess about what skills you might require that you didn't have for your own character, and to bring a crew member that fit the role.
In practice, however, you quickly found yourself bringing your first mate, an elven thief named Aster of Rion, with you on nearly every outing. Of course you did - he was the archetypal charming rogue, and Chance played him as an incorrigible flirt. Given the choice between letting him flirt with you at every opportunity and anything else, it was hardly a surprise. Especially when he was always more than happy to oblige.
As the summer stretched on, the sessions got longer. It wasn't that Chance was planning more for each session - though he was inspired by the story you were building with him, that just meant that he was prepared several weeks in advance, these days. Instead, the sessions were always derailed by meandering and often-suggestive conversations between the captain and their first mate. And it was definitely the characters who were flirting. Totally not just you and Chance, finding an excuse to be a little more open about flirting with each other behind the safety of the mask of character.
-----
After a particularly gruelling fight, Chance took the post-combat respite to get some snacks. When he returned, he took a seat next to you rather than across from you - ostensibly so you could share the bag of chips in his hands.
"When I get back to the ship, I think I'll go up to the crow's nest rather than going straight to bed." You shuffled over to make a bit more room for him and leaned back against the arm of the couch with a yawn. You couldn't reach the table from here, but, with combat over, that probably wouldn't matter. At least not immediately. "I can't imagine being able to sleep right away, with all this adrenaline that'd be running through my body after that fight."
Chance hummed in agreement, holding the bag out to you. "You took a couple of nasty hits at the end there. I think Aster would come looking for you, if you don't go see the ship's medic right away."
You laughed, popping a chip into your mouth. "Okay, dad."
Chance slipped easily back into the lilting accent that he used for Aster as he responded, "I'll be heartbroken if you see me as a father figure, my dear captain."
"Are you sure you don't want me to call you 'daddy'?" You cackled as Chance choked on his own breath at the way you purred out the last word.
His voice was a half-octave lower when he spoke again. "You know very well that those are two very different words."
"And you're here to take me to bed, which could mean two very different things. So, you tell me what you intend, and I'll tell you which one you get to be."
There was a long pause while Chance tried to hide a smile. "Then maybe I won't say anything about that for now."
A comfortable quiet settled between you - both between the characters and players. Chance never seemed to have a dearth of things to talk about, but he didn't seem to have a strong need to fill silence for the sake of noise, either.
Resting against the arm of the couch, you tipped your head back to stare up at the ceiling. "Wish the view in here was half as nice as what they'd see on the ship." Even if you went outside, it wouldn't make that much of a difference - the stars were all hidden by the city lights anyway. You let you eyes slip shut to imagine a sea of stars over your head instead.
"Aster knows all sorts of stories about the constellations, if you want to hear one."
You opened one of your eyes, just a crack, and smiled at him. "Really? Yeah, I'd love that."
Chance nodded and cleared his throat. There was a long pause, long enough that you once might have thought that he'd changed his mind about telling the story. But you knew better now; he was simply piecing his thoughts together before he began speaking.
When he finally began, his voice had an almost musical quality that felt natural to mythology. It perfectly captured the way a story sounds when it's been told, over and over and over again, a hundred times. The rhythm of it might have lulled you to sleep, if you weren't so focused on following the story.
"This is the story of how a mortal man seduced a princess of the Fae. They met in a meadow by chance, as he was a hunter after quarry, and she was with her maidens collecting spring flowers. Her maidens fled from the presence of the man, but she did not fear him. They spoke, and then danced, and he told her of his life. They say she was enchanted by the fire of mortality in him."
"They fell in love, but such a union was forbidden. Even so, they met on dark nights, in secret, for many years. In time, they came to realize that he would grow old and die, and she would not. The prospect of such heartbreak was too much to bear, and so the princess stole a single poppy seed from the faerie feasts of spring, and fed it to her lover. This, she said, would see him reborn for a hundred lifetimes, so that they might find each other and be together over and over again."
"But then, the princess was promised in marriage to the lord of another Court. Her new husband was jealous and suspected infidelity, for she had not ceased her meetings with her lover. He killed the man, and the princess fled back to her mother for protection. Her husband demanded retribution. He wished for her death. He had the right to demand such a payment, but the queen was not willing to give her daughter such a fate. And so, instead, she allowed her daughter's body to die, and raised her spirit into the heavens."
There was another long pause and, this time, when he started speaking again, it was in Aster's voice once more. "You see that dark spot in the sky, embraced by a bright ring of stars? That is the princess, where she waits for her love to finish living his hundred lives on earth, so that he may join her and fill the emptiness in her arms for eternity."
Your heart twisted unexpectedly in your chest at the poignancy of the image. "Where is that from?" The moment the words were out of your mouth, you waved off the in-game answer that you knew was coming. "That was a question for Chance, not Aster."
"Oh. Uh. It's... from my notes?"
You sat up finally, watching him curiously. "So that was something you wrote?"
He looked vaguely offended by the question. "Of course I wrote it, where else would it have come from?"
"Oh no, it's not that I didn't believe you wrote it or anything. It's just... well, it wasn't like you could have known that I was gonna randomly decided to go stargazing at the end of the session. When were you planning to use that story?"
He shrugged, ducking his head in a doomed attempt to hide the blush that was reddening his cheeks. "I wasn't. I write lots of stuff that I never get to use in my games."
Your eyes went wide. "How much stuff like that have you written that you've never shared with anyone?"
He let out a soft, self-conscious laugh, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. "I don't know how I'd even count it. Enough to fill at least a few notebooks, probably."
"If I play a historian as my next character, would that count as a good excuse for you to let me read some of it?"
"You..." He had to pause to untangle his tongue in his surprise. "You want to read that stuff?"
A surprised laugh bubbled out of you. "What? Of course I do. That was a beautiful story, and you're telling me you have books of stuff like that, that no one else has ever seen?"
He answered with that giddy little giggle of his, the one he always made when he was so bashfully pleased that you enjoyed something he created. He didn't say anything - he was utterly tongue-tied by the idea that you were so interested in his random writings about world-building - but he didn't need to speak to make clear his feelings. Just the way he was looking at you, like you hung the very sun itself in his sky, was enough.
You'd never really understood, before now, why it was called falling in love. But the way he was looking at you stole the breath from your lungs, made your blood pulse with a giddy energy, and made your stomach start flipping dizzy somersaults. It was only now that you understood the comparison was apt, that it really did feel like that moment of weightlessness before a fall.
-------
As the campaign progressed, you began to suspect that this so-called usurper wasn't a usurper at all; that the king who hired you was a tyrant who had stolen his throne through assassination, and that you were, perhaps, being used to finish the job now that the king knew one of the true scions of the royal family had escaped his blade.
What you had not expected, however, was the revelation that Aster was the very prince-in-exile you were searching for. Something which was only revealed during the climactic fight against the tyrant king.
It was tradition, at this point, for Chance to collect the snacks after combat was over, and to join you on the couch instead of returning to his seat across from you. Tonight, he settled into the space next to you, just close enough that any little movement was enough to make your leg or shoulder brush up against his. "Where would Aster find you, once things settle down in the castle?"
You shrugged. "Is there... maybe a balcony or something? Preferably one that isn't at risk of falling off the side of the building." A few siege weapons had been used in the lead-up to the fight, so that was a risk.
"Sure, yeah, there's a steady one just outside the throne room."
"Then that's where I'll be, whenever Aster comes looking. He'd find me leaning against the railing, thinking about plans for securing the castle in case the old king has supporters holed up outside the city somewhere. Though I wouldn't mind the interruption. It's not like his allies will arrive in the night, anyway."
"Once the palace quiets down, Aster comes up next to you, joining you in looking out over the city." He slipped easily as ever into Aster's accent. "That's three times I owe you my life, now."
"Do I get a reward this time, now that you're royalty?"
"Anything for you." His voice was low, heated, and carried little enough of Aster's accent that it was difficult to pretend that this wasn't just Chance offering you anything you asked of him.
You couldn't trust your voice to remain steady after that, so instead you played up the act of thinking over your options; humming and hawing, and tapping at your bottom lip with you index finger. "Then I would like to request that I don't have to call you 'Your Majesty'."
Chance laughed. "Of course. But it doesn't feel right, to consider as payment something that I would give you freely. So you can call me whatever you wish, and I still would offer you something else as a reward."
"Then..." The feeling of your heart leaping into your throat was almost enough to make you swallow the words. It came out as a near-whisper. "What about a kiss?"
You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, even though you could feel his gaze on your face. The silence felt electric, the space between you filling with static until the tension was nearly unbearable. It was broken not by words, but by touch - Chance's fingers tracing the line of your jaw with a feather-light touch, just barely enough pressure to be a gentle request that you look at him.
"Not as a reward." His answered in a whisper to match yours. Even though the answer was in-character, he dropped the accent entirely - despite the context, there was no question that this was just Chance, speaking directly to you. "That is, again, something I'd give you freely." His thumb traced the arc of your bottom lip, making your breathing stutter. That his touch could elicit such a sound from you; his gaze went dark with want. "More than freely," he corrected. "Eagerly."
You reached for him, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you leaned toward him. Anticipation pulled your muscles taut, and you caught yourself grasping handfuls of his shirt without meaning to.
That first kiss was gentle, hesitant and chaste. After dancing around your desires for so long, neither of you were sure that this wasn't just a dream. Even just that short touch of your lips was enough to pull a gasp from him. Any remnants of the mask of character fell away, and he huffed out a charmingly bashful little laugh. "Wow."
How could you resist that? He was such a brilliant, charming and talented man; how utterly intoxicating to know that you were the one who could, with such a simple affection, leave him giddy and glowing.
You released your grip on his clothes, instead draping your arms around his shoulders to pull yourself closer to him. In response, his hand on your cheek moved to cradle the back of your neck, while his other arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.
This kiss was deeper, hungrier, a response to the appetite whetted by the first. His lips formed the shape of your name, but the only sound that came out was something wordless between a growl and a whimper. His muscles coiled under your hands as his breathing grew shallower.
You nipped gently at his bottom lip, murmuring his name in a gentle encouragement to release the tension building in him, but he only coiled tighter in response. His whole body was pulled tight enough to snap. Something wasn't right. You broke the kiss, worry warring with rejection in your chest. "Chance? Do you want to stop?"
"No." The word snapped out of him, louder than he'd intended in his hurry to ensure that you spent not one moment longer in doubt of just how badly he wanted you. He pulled you back to him for a searing kiss that felt at odds with his steel-clenched muscles. He broke the kiss a moment later with a low groan and pressed his face against the curve of your neck.
Clearly it wasn't a problem with you, but he still seemed to be struggling with something. Running your fingers soothingly through his hair, you peppered all the skin you could reach with kisses. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." A beat. "No." Then, after another breath, he laughed softly. "I don't know." He took another few deep, calming breaths, forcing some of the tension in his body to unravel, even if just a little. "I want to take you to dinner," he said finally, as if that explained anything.
"Um." Your fingers paused in his hair as you tried to figure out what that meant. Given all the kissing, you'd kind of assumed that a date would follow in short order. You didn't understand why he was posing it as a problem. "Okay? I'd like that. A lot."
There was a pause, like he was waiting for something that never came. His arms tightened around you and he sighed. When he finally spoke again, there was a note of self-deprecating humour in his tone. "You think any good restaurants would still be open at this hour?"
An affectionate laugh bubbled out of you. "You want to go now? In a hurry, are we?"
He nodded against your neck, hugging you tighter still. "I really don't want to let go of you." He let out a laugh, tight and nervous. "I don't think you realize what you do to me. I want..." He paused, clearing his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, softer and with a deeper tenor that still somehow belied just how much he was still trying to hold back the tide of his desire. "I want you. So badly." This wasn't new, but he'd learned how to live with it. Except the kiss seemed to open the floodgates, and now the only thing he seemed to be able to think about was more. "But I shouldn't. Not yet. Because I want to do this right, with dinner and flowers and..." He cut himself off with a gentle kiss pressed to the hollow just below your ear. "I want to give you the romance you deserve," he murmured against your skin.
It caught you by surprise, sometimes, how oblivious he could be to his own brilliance and charm. Not that he outright denied his appeal - nothing so simple as that. But then he'd say things like this, like it never even occurred to him just how much of his heart he offered to you through this game. "You already have," you answered softly, your fingers in his hair gently tugging his face up so that you could meet his eyes. "You gave me a whole world. You gave me a piece of yourself to explore. And, in that world, we're creating something together, just the two of us." You smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Do you really think that isn't romantic? I think it's one of the most sweetly intimate gifts you could have given me."
He took your face between reverent hands and spent several silent moments just taking in the sight of you. "I'm... amazed by how you see me."
"Good," you answered simply. "You should be. You're amazing."
Tugging you close, Chance rested his forehead against yours and let his eyes slip shut for a moment. A playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I still want to take you to dinner, though."
"I'd love that. Although..." You smirked and darted forward to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Would you consider breakfast instead?"
That was all the invitation he required. He answered with a kiss, this time unburdened by his efforts to hold himself back. And this time, when you nipped playfully at his bottom lip, you were rewarded with a fiery groan, so low that you felt the vibrations of it in his chest more than heard the sound. His mouth trailed from your lips along the edge of your jaw, and then down the column of your throat. "You really have no idea what you do to me."
Any response you might have offered was consumed in the flash of fire that flooded through your body at the feeling of his teeth scraping gently against the curve of your shoulder. You tried to swallow the soft moan that worked its way out of you, but that only made your voice break partway through, making you sound more needy rather than less. It was as if you were spellbound; your head tipped back, the soft heat of his tongue combined with the sharp spark of teeth leaving you dizzy. Even your fingers, woven through his hair, had gone weak.
You felt his lips pull into a smile, and the rumbling laughter that followed. He knew exactly the effect he was having on you. If there was any doubt remaining, it disappeared with the purposeful way he pressed his lips back to the hollow of your throat, worrying your heated, sensitive skin between his teeth. As if he needed to confirm that he could make you go limp and pliant in his arms whenever he wanted.
He pressed a soothing kiss to the same spot, grinning at the eruption of butterflies in his stomach with the thought that there might be a mark there in the morning. "Let's get out of here."
Seriously? He was going to just casually suggest that you walk back to his apartment like he hadn't just worked you up on purpose? "You tease!"
He actually giggled at the accusation, and your traitor heart took off like a hummingbird. That's not fair, he shouldn't be allowed to be so effortlessly seductive one minute, and then so fucking adorable the next! There was not a single doubt in your mind that you would forever let this man get away with anything. You were fucked, and you couldn't even be mad about it.
-----
Chance thanked the gods of every pantheon he knew when you walked into his apartment and found it quiet. Parker was going to have a thousand things to say whenever he found out, but Chance had the patience for precisely none of them, at the moment.
He wasn't even sure he'd have the patience to make it to the bed. The moment the door was closed, you had your hands on him - which, he supposed, was fair play after teasing you like that.
You grasped a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward you to kiss him like you were starved.
He stumbled back to catch his balance. You followed. He ended up pinned between you and the wall at his back, and you swallowed his gasp of eager surprise in another all-consuming kiss.
Your hands slipped under the hem of his shirt so you could splay your fingers across as much of his heated skin as you could reach. Every shred of your patience had been burned to a crisp on the way here. You wanted all of him. Now.
He stripped his shirt off over his head, leaving you free to trail your lips down over his chest. It wasn't until you sunk to your knees in front of him, your hands hovering over his belt with a pleading look on your face, that he actually understood what you were after.
And then, god, the noise he made. Strangled and desperate, he was already near ruin and you hadn't even started yet.
The one errant, dizzy thought that managed to float through his lust-addled mind hoped that you realized this kind of reward was only going to encourage him to tease you all the time. And then there were no thoughts at all, as the heat of your mouth left him grasping uselessly at the wall in a vain attempt to keep himself upright while his knees went weak.
He had to fight to keep his eyes open, but he would be damned if he would miss a moment of the divine and obscene sight of you on your knees, gazing up at him from under low lashes, pupils blown out with eager lust. And all the while, your tongue working every nerve in his body with masterful control, playing him exactly as you wished, until he was left a gasping, quivering mess for you.
Every exhale carried a moan or a curse or, most often, your name; cried out over and over again, in a pleading, carnal prayer. And with each breathless gasp, he was rewarded with your moan in return. It was already a sound that could drive him utterly mad, but the way you sounded now - muffled and breathless and driven by a pure, shameless hunger for his pleasure - was alone enough to send him crashing over the edge, a strike of lightning consuming him in white fire.
He couldn't remember how he got to the floor, but his sluggish brain suggested that you must have helped him collapse without hurting himself; you had somehow ended up sitting with your back against the wall while he lay between your legs, curled against your chest with his head pillowed on your shoulder. You were whispering to him - his ears were ringing so he couldn't hear the words, but they must have been sweet. He could hear it in the tone of your voice.
"H-holy...." His voice cracked, raw and rough. The lights were off in the apartment, and yet the visual stimulus of seeing anything at all was still too much for him to handle, so he pressed his face against your neck and ignored the sound of his glasses clattering to the floor. "You're perfect." What did it say that even the word 'perfect' felt like an understatement for how he felt about you?
One of his hands was trailing up and down your side; from your ribs, over your waist and hip, and down the length of your thigh. Then back again. It was an idle affection while he was still recovering. He wasn't trying to tease you further. But every time his palm passed from hip to thigh or back, he'd drag his thumb across the top of your thigh and press gently against this one spot. You weren't sure if there was a nerve there, or if maybe it was just because you'd have this kind of response to any touch of his that came anywhere close to the aching heat between your legs. But it felt like he was throwing kerosene onto a fire that was already burning wildly out of control. And this all while you were still clothed.
You were trying so valiantly to let him have a moment to rest. The man had just collapsed - though, in your defence, knowing that you could do that to him was not helping your self-control problems at all. You could give him that. Bringing him such pleasure was a satisfaction all its own, and it lent you the will to be patient, at least a few minutes more. Or it would have, if it weren't for the way his wandering hands kept sparking that the banked heat in your belly.
Inevitably, your lust grew too demanding to contain. Your next breath came out as a whine, strangled by your failed attempt to hold it in.
Chance lifted his head from your shoulder. The look of glassy pleasure in his eyes cleared as he took in the state of you; flushed with warmth, breaths coming short, and your bottom lip held between your teeth in a vain attempt to keep yourself from contain the next needy sound that was trying to escape you. "Oh, wow." He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of you. Then he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "I'm so sorry for letting you wait like this." There was nothing apologetic in the molten heat that dripped form every word.
Chance was strong. You knew that. He'd mentioned going to the gym, and you'd seen him carry around a huge plastic tote full of G&G books like it was nothing at all. But it still caught you by surprise for him to scoop you into his arms and carry you into his bedroom.
The gentle way he placed you so carefully down onto his bed was at great odds with the way he looked at you once you were laid out before him; like a cat stalking its prey. There was no question in your mind; he meant to play with you before he finished you.
It seemed that you'd made a very gratifying mistake: that your own impatience hadn't done anything to satisfy his desire for you, but had only taken the edge off of his own lust. And as a result, Chance was taken with an insatiable hunger for you and all the patience in the world.
He took his time undressing you. With each inch that was revealed, he worshipped with hands and lips and his adoration murmured against you skin.
When he finally satisfied your aching lust, with fingers and lips and silver tongue, he still took his time. It was as if he intended to map every nerve in your body, and to learn how he might wring the greatest pleasure from each. Slow and methodical, he brought you to the edge and then paused, showering you with kisses while you cooled just a little. Over and over, until your voice cracked over the cry of his name. It was one snapped thread, and his patience unravelled in an instant. You were swept away, drowning in, burning for him as he devoured you completely and pulled you, finally, over that shattering edge.
Lying down next to you, Chance gathered you into his arms, pulling you close while you caught your breath. He was on his side, facing you, your head pillowed in his upper arm and his lips pressed to your forehead. "You're so perfect." It felt like even more of a woeful understatement, now.
The fog was finally starting to clear from your mind. You tipped your head up, eyes closed, waiting expectantly for a kiss - which you got, accompanied with a soft chuckle, once Chance understood what was happening. "You're really good with your tongue."
"Heh." Even in the dark of his bedroom, his blush was bright. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Oh my god." Your exclamation was halfway to a hiss.
Chance froze, suddenly worried that he'd moved in some way that had made you uncomfortable, or pinched you by accident, or...
"It's illegal to be that cute," you complained, tucking your head back against his chest. You were still just pleasure-drunk enough to say whatever came to mind without filter, so you continued, "I'mna be in so much trouble if you figure out how to weaponize it against me."
He relaxed again with a grin, arms tightening around you ever so slightly. "Is that so?"
"Mhm. You smile like that, and I'll give you whatever you want. So don't take advantage of me."
He hummed in agreement. "Then I guess we're both in big trouble, 'cause I'd give you the world, if you asked for it." His heart skipped at the memory of what you'd said to him earlier about romance. "As many worlds as you want."
-----
Chance woke to the sound of his phone alarm beeping angrily... in the kitchen. There was a moment of sleepy confusion as he wondered just how the hell that had happened. But the confusion evaporated the moment he saw you, curled comfortably against him with your back tucked up to his chest. One of his arms was draped across your waist, his palm pressed flat to your stomach. Your hand was atop his, pressing his hand harder against you, your fingers hooked loosely around his.
With the memories of last night came the memory of leaving his clothes out by the door. With his phone still in the pocket of his jeans. Oops.
Parker knocked on the door and Chance pulled hastily at the blankets to make sure you were fully covered. He was mostly sure that Parker wouldn't just walk in without an explicit invitation, but... only mostly sure. "Come turn your phone off, man! I don't know how to unlock it."
Chance sighed and started to untangle himself from you, only to stop when your hand tightened around his.
You were still in the process of waking up, so you weren't entirely sure where you were until you rolled over and laid eyes on Chance. The moment you saw him, any concern on your face disappeared, replaced with a relaxed, sleepy smile. You hummed comfortably, sinking back into the pillows, and lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "Morning."
Oh, he would be a happy man if he could wake up to that smile every morning. He returned the gesture with a kiss to the back of your hand, and climbed the rest of the way out of bed. "Morning, gorgeous. I'll be right back." With that, he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and slipped out of the bedroom to go looking for his roommate and his phone.
The moment he had closed the bedroom door behind him, he turned to find his glasses being thrust toward his face. "You're welcome for not stepping on these, by the way. You left them on the floor in the hallway. Along with most of your clothes." Parker, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and hair a wild mess of bedhead, retreated to a stool next to the kitchen island, watching Chance through narrowed eyes.
Chance took his glasses with a nod of thanks and collected his phone off the counter, finally turning off that incessant ringtone. "You know, you don't have to unlock the phone to turn off the alarm."
But instead of answering, Parker just kept staring like Chance had the secrets of the universe tattooed to his back. "Why do you look like that?"
Chance tried to play innocent. "Like what?" But he knew exactly what Parker was talking about. He could practically feel himself floating two inches above the ground on a little cloud of euphoria. And there was nothing he could do to keep the smile off his face.
Parker didn't need to pry any further, because the door to Chance's bedroom opened again and revealed the answer to his question; you, leaning oh-so-casually against the door-frame with a cheeky smile. "Hi."
Parker's mouth popped open in surprise and nearly dropped the toothbrush.
Chance turned around to look at you and froze. The sight of you wearing one of his shirts punched the all of the air out of his lungs.
Parker took one look at the way Chance was staring at you, popped up from the stool, disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared only a few seconds later, this time without the toothbrush, and offered you a rapid-fire greeting as he walked straight past you toward the front door. All at a pace that was halfway to a jog and without once breaking stride. "Haha! Well then! It has been lovely to see you again but I am not staying here for this BYEEEEEE!"
By the time the door slammed, Chance had you in his arms again. He kicked the bedroom door closed behind him as you stumbled back into his room, each giddy with laughter, and fell straight back into bed together.
-----
The start of the fall semester brought unexpected nerves with it. You and Chance walked hand-in-hand, on your way to that familiar table, the one tucked away in an unused corner of the student union building of Valdivian University. And though it felt like you'd slotted effortlessly into the group in the spring, that had really only been one evening. It was hard not to wonder if that had somehow been a fluke.
Chance paused just in front of the door, circling one arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. "They'll love you as much as I do," he promised. Then, with a wink, he kissed you with just enough heat to leave you breathless. "Well. Almost." And then he opened the door.
"There they are!"
Greetings were tossed around. With one last kiss placed just below the dice-beaded bracelet dangling from your wrist, Chance went to his place at the head of the table to get out his notes.
Chairemi eagerly pulled out the chair next to her, motioning for you to join her, where you were immediately roped into a story already being told to Dasha and Parker about the improv workshop she took over the summer.
And, in no time at all, any doubts you might have had? Evaporated.
Chance cleared his throat, waiting with a patient smile for the chatter to die down. Holding his hands out in front of him, he began. "Welcome, wizards and warriors, to this semester's campaign of Grottoes and Gargoyles!"
