The dice clattered across the table, everyone leaning in as you narrated the next scene with your usual energy, hands painting the picture of the world you’d built. Your players hung on every word—except for the unexpected guest perched far too close.

Tatum had slipped in right behind you, draping her arms lazily over your shoulders as though she’d always belonged there. “So this is what you’ve been hiding from me,” she whispered against your ear, low enough that only you could hear. “Dungeon Master, huh? Kinda hot.”

You nearly dropped your notes. “T-Tatum?! What are you—”

“Shh,” Tatum smirked, chin propped on your shoulder. “Don’t let me distract you.”

But she was distracting—horribly so. Every time you leaned forward to move a miniature or check her papers, Tatum shifted closer, her chest pressing against your back. Her hands slid down to rest casually on your waist, fingers brushing just enough to make you shiver.

The other players tried not to stare, though a few exchanged knowing glances. Tatum didn’t care. She was too busy leaning in, her voice a purr meant only for you: “You’re cute when you get all serious explaining the rules.”

You stammered through the description of a monster encounter, only to squeak when Tatum tugged you gently back against her chest, snuggling in as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re so tense,” Tatum teased, pressing her cheek against your temple. “Loosen up, DM. Or I’ll have to roll for persuasion.”

The table laughed nervously, but Tatum wasn’t joking. She squeezed your waist and whispered again, softer this time: “You know I’ve been watching you for a while, right? Couldn’t stay away tonight.”

Your heart pounded. You tried to focus on the campaign, but between the warmth of Tatum’s body at your back and the teasing lilt of her voice in your ear, every word came out shaky, flustered, and full of butterflies.

And Tatum just smiled wider, pleased with the chaos she’d caused.