criticalkink | Other Projects: RPF

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Other Projects: RPF

A post was requested for projects that the cast are involved with other than Critical Role.

This post is for Real Person Fiction prompts.

Please state the name of the project (i.e. Signal Boost, Wednesday Club, Dread) in the subject line of your prompt.

All the general rules of the kink meme as listed in the profile still apply!

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This is something I didn't know I needed until this post came up, but the idea of Taliesin and Matt, out-of-game but still made up as Kayden and Tanner and maybe roleplaying a little? Yes, please.

God yes. Especially those glasses Matt wears. Not saying that seeing Talisen come all over them would be amazing, but, it's an idea

They are so very handsy, exchange I love yous and are completely adorable. First time involving kink/poly negotiation, bondage and mild d/S. don't care who tops. No bashing of Matt's wife.

He's not talking about the Jenga tower.

Get Ivan off in under two minutes, or something bad will happen.

Because Darin. I needs it. Something sweet, naughty, whatever takes your fancy.

After Tanner dies, the group take a break from shooting for a short while to refresh themselves before continuing.

Matt and Taliesin find a private place to console each other.

Idk how this got into my head, but since these two are going to burning man together I'd love to see a story involving burning man.

I'm not picky on what exactly. Tal getting Matt out of his comfort zone? Maybe slightly drug induced sexy exploration? Weirdly sexual hallucinations? Tal getting overexcited and Matt calming him down with some loving?
I'm down for all of that and whatever else you have in mind!

I'm just watching the episode of TWC where Taliesin's holding the Swamp Thing comic open for Amy Dallen to point stuff out, and imagining him patiently turning pages for someone as they sit on his cock. Amy would be cute as hell, but I'm open to whatever any writer-anons want to write.

A/N: first time, negotiation of permissible activities, no (intentional) Brittany-bashing. Started writing and was halfway through before realizing the bondage and D/s didn't fit the situation. Might come across as kind of melancholy.

---

Calling a friend out on their sexual preferences is not something Taliesin would usually do, but he’s seen the way that Matt looks at him even when he’s doing something as innocuous as being a comic stand while Amy turns the pages.

He’s also not a fan of butting into established relationships without explicit invitation, but one night Matt mentions Brittany twenty-three times over the course of one episode while also touching Taliesin’s arm and hand and hair almost as often, and Taliesin just quietly loses it.

Matt’s fixing his hair in the dressing room after the show because Amy’s been petting them both all night. Taliesin comes up behind him, slips his arms around Matt’s waist, and goes up on his toes to rest his chin on Matt’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey.” Matt seems unfazed that he’s got a cuddly goth attached to him. “You know there’s enough room beside me if you need the mirror.”

“It’s a good sized dressing room,” Taliesin agrees. “Not like the little closet you’ve crammed yourself into.”

“What?” Matt puts his comb down. His tone and stiffened posture say what is this shit; his eyes, though, are resigned with truth.

“Don’t insult my intelligence by denying it.” Taliesin softens his tone. “I’m not asking you to come out to the world. I just want you to know that it’s okay.”

Matt lowers his head, avoiding Taliesin’s gaze in the mirror. He puts his hands over Taliesin’s, but rather than trying to detach him, he just holds on.

“I don’t even know if it’s true,” he says. “I feel like I should at least have tried, I don’t know.” He laughs; it sounds broken. “I missed the experimental college phase. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Taliesin says, stepping into this familiar, well-worn role like a comfortable old pair of broken-in Docs. He very carefully kisses the side of Matt’s jaw, watching Matt’s eyes close, and then waits.

Matt’s sigh is slow, a little shaky, and he turns his head toward Taliesin. Taliesin kisses the corner of Matt’s mouth, lips brushing lightly at that spot that, he has found, quite often sparks up a certain tingle. It’s been a while since he kissed anyone with this quantity of facial hair; even Matt Mercer after ten days out on the playa doesn’t come close to this.

He imagines it’ll come back to him, though.

Matt releases his hands and turns in his arms, draping his own arms around Taliesin’s shoulders. Taliesin drops back down from his toes, now that he doesn’t need to crane over Matt’s shoulder, and looks at him calmly.

“Go on then,” Matt says.

“I need specifics. Also explicit consent.”

“I...” Matt’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Can I—can we kiss? Please?”

“Certainly,” Taliesin says.

Better than what Matt says is the fact that he initiates the kiss. He is hesitant, certainly, and Taliesin moves his hands so one is on Matt’s lower back and the other is between his shoulderblades: safe but promising locations. Matt’s moustache in particular is scratchy. Not as much as Travis’s, though. Softer. Not downright prickly the way Sam gets, either. It seems some good oil or somesuch might be at play here.

Taliesin doesn’t disrespect the moment by overthinking it any further. He returns the kiss, parting his lips enough to let Matt know it’s okay to go further. Matt licks his lower lip tentatively, then licks along Taliesin’s tongue, and sighs into Taliesin’s mouth, arms tightening around his shoulders.

Taliesin realizes he’s got Matt backed up against the vanity bench and moves to give him a little space. Matt drops one hand to his lower back, holding him in place. That’s fine; he’s still got room to let go if their physical proximity becomes overwhelming.

Matt makes a little noise into Taliesin’s mouth and Taliesin presses just a little closer, teasing his tongue over Matt’s lower lip. Matt whines and opens his mouth to Taliesin’s tongue, curling his own against it by way of invitation.

It’s very encouraging. Taliesin’s not sure what Matt’s encouraging exactly, but he shifts position to nudge one of his thighs between Matt’s. Matt outright gasps against his lips and his fingers curl against Taliesin’s lower back. His hips twitch toward Taliesin and Taliesin can’t resist pressing against him a little harder.

“Oh. Oh God.” Matt wets his lips, which means he licks Taliesin’s lips at the same time. “I—”

Taliesin’s waiting for Matt to ask for something more, but instead he’s just pulled into another kiss. The hand draped over his shoulder has crept up to the nape of his neck, ruffling his hair. Matt does like touching his head in particular whether they’re on or off camera. Taliesin tilts his head and Matt traces the edge of his ear, and Taliesin hums softly, pleased.

He might as well test Matt’s intent a little more. If he’s to be Matt’s experiment, it’s no fun without a few variables. He sucks lightly on the tip of Matt’s tongue.

Matt’s whole body shudders and both hands claw at Taliesin. Taliesin sucks a little harder, licks the soft inside of Matt’s cheek, and then pulls back enough to study Matt’s face.

His eyes are closed, mouth a little slack, lips pink and wet. His cheeks are crimson, and he looks very much as though if he weren’t pinned to the bench he’d fall on his ass.

“That was an offer,” Taliesin says, “just so you’re aware.”

Matt opens his eyes. His pupils have dilated, turned his irises to thin rings. “Are you serious?”

Taliesin, eyes fixed on Matt’s face, inches his hand around from Matt’s lower back. First to his stomach, then to his waistband, then to his thigh. “I can feel you,” he says calmly. “If you’d rather take care of yourself that’s up to you, but I’d advise against going back out there in this condition.” He squeezes Matt’s erection through the fabric of his pants and then has to press close again as Matt’s knees buckle.

“Yes,” Matt says, and “Please,” which from him is less plea and more politeness.

“Up,” Taliesin says. Matt boosts himself onto the bench; his toes still touch the floor. Taliesin scoots a stool over to sit between Matt’s spread legs.

“If you change your mind, just say so,” Taliesin says.

“I will.” Matt swallows. “Taliesin...”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Taliesin just smiles up at him. It’s not a particularly safe smile. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says.

Matt’s cock is a reasonably sized outline under the front of his pants. Taliesin rubs his palm over it and then makes short work of Matt’s buckle, button, and zipper.

“Very nice,” he murmurs as he draws Matt’s cock out of his boxers.

Matt, unsurprisingly, says nothing. His hands are fisted on his thighs.

Taliesin doesn’t have anything particularly fancy in mind—no teasing, no fingering, just a straightforward blowjob. It’s a little risky to assume Matt’s clean, but he and Brittany have always seemed monogamous to a fault; Taliesin’s not worried that he’s one of a collection. He’s pretty sure that he’s an outlier, as usual.

But even so his heartbeat speeds up as he lowers his head to caress the tip of Matt’s cock with his tongue. Regardless of how... cheapening this experience can sometimes be, this sensation of being a test subject, it doesn’t lessen the pleasure of the activities.

For example, the long moan that comes from deep down in Matt’s lungs when Taliesin sucks him in.

The sensation of Matt’s cock sliding and twitching against his tongue.

The feeling of Matt’s blunt fingertips as they uncurl from his tight fists and dig into Taliesin’s shoulders.

Matt keeps on with the long moans, every breath, regardless of what Taliesin’s doing to him. Tongue flicks, deep sucks, long licks; all of these draw the same long deep groans. Matt’s thighs are shaking under Taliesin’s palms. This isn’t going to last long at all, as far as Taliesin can sense.

“Oh—oh my God.”

Matt touches his hair again, stroking it, paying particular attention to the short sides. Either it’s just a being tactile during sex thing, or he’s actively reminding himself that the mouth on his cock isn’t his wife’s.

Taliesin’s right; it is quick.

Matt’s hips start jerking after a minute or so, and Taliesin takes him deep, acknowledging Matt’s polite shoulder tap of warning with an agreeable hum.

When Matt comes it’s with another long low moan, as though his breath is all leaving his body with his climax. Taliesin swallows through it, drawing back with a long slow suck to collect the last drops, and dabs his lips with a tissue. He can see himself in the mirror behind Matt: lips gone rosy and plump with the effort, eyes a little dark, cheeks pink.

He winks at himself, and then looks up at Matt.

Matt’s head is lowered, eyes closed. He’s breathing quickly, mouth hanging open just a little, and his hands are now curled around the edge of the bench, holding himself up. For a little kissing and one blowjob, he looks pretty wrecked. But then, when something like this has been a long time coming, playing on someone’s mind for perhaps months...

“Was it as good as you’d hoped?” Taliesin asks, genuinely curious.

Matt blinks, dazed. “Oh, Taliesin...” His voice is soft, wondering. “Better.”

“Excellent.”

“Do you want me to...”

“No.” Taliesin sees the stricken look on Matt’s face and stands up to kiss his forehead. “No,” he repeats, voice gentler. “That’s very kind of you, but there’s no need.”

Matt rubs his eyes with one hand, and then sets about fixing up his pants. “In that case, would now be a reasonable time to say ‘thank you’?”

“Now I’ve actually done something worth thanking me for, yes.”

Matt slips off the bench, back to his feet, still looking wobbly. Taliesin’s reminded of a baby giraffe figuring out walking. “Everything you do is worth gratitude,” he says, pulling Taliesin in for one more kiss, and when he doesn’t recoil from the taste of his own seed on Taliesin’s tongue Taliesin wonders if maybe he wasn’t a little too quick to decline any reciprocal activities.

He doesn’t really have a way to respond to Matt’s words, so he just returns the kiss, hands Matt his comb, and opens the dressing room door for him. Matt slips out of the room, down the hallway, and presumably back to the real world.

A polka-dotted sock hits Taliesin in the chest.

“You can’t do that at work.” Amy’s glaring at him, which would be terrifying if it weren’t for the fact that she is tiny and adorable and about as threatening as a muffin. She whacks him again with the sock, last seen on the door handle. “Other people need to use the dressing room too, you know.”

Taliesin confiscates the sock. “Excuse me for being too old for kneeling in toilet stalls.”

Amy pushes past him. “I need my deodorant, it’s too damn hot and sweaty under those lights, although I guess it’s the same in here.”

Taliesin balances on one foot to put his sock back on. “Not really. We didn’t do that much.”

Amy pauses, one hand shoved under her t-shirt clutching her deodorant. “No? Aw, babe. Put the sock back, we can fix that.” She bounces up onto the bench, right where Matt was not two minutes ago, her skirt riding cheerfully up her thighs. She makes no effort to tug it back down. “Come on, c’mere.”

Taliesin puts the sock back on the outer door handle and closes the door, happy to leave the real world out there just a little longer.

*screams* *flails* Ahhhhhhhh

Not OP (I don't think?) But this... this is something I didn't know I needed. Thank you nonny.

Not OP, but this is wonderful!!
They're so touchy feely that it works wonderfully and I love your Amy (more Amy/Tal is a good thing) and your Matt is lovely!!
Have all the internet cookies!!

Oooooooo, this was lovely! Loved the banter between Taliesin and Matt especially. And the sorta ... introspective stuff going on with Taliesin, thinking of himself as an experiment and an outlier. Not quite sad but not quite happy either.

I really loved Amy coming in at the end, that was fantastic.

"about as threatening as a muffin"
What a great line.

OP here: *bounces ecstatically* this is wonderful, beautiful and everything I knew I wanted (along with the Amy/Tal I'd never thought of, but now want). Thank you, thank you, thank you - my mouth now hurts from smiling 😍💖😍

Who put Liam in the straitjacket for the shoot, and what's he going to have to offer to get back out?

Inspired by this tweet (https://twitter.com/Hydra_Lord/status/935384087866380289), where Ivan shows off his fire spinning/whip skills, and Brian's response (https://twitter.com/BrianWFoster/status/935387823816896512), being "I'm so turned on right now."

So. She's VERY pregnant (the father is irrelevant, prefer not him because poly af, but roll with what works) and he's never wanted her more.

Bonus points for: Multiple internal orgasms, face sitting, belly & breast worship, lactation, foot rubs, and cuddles. Prefer both switchy or Dom!Satine.

I'd like to second this comment and add that "Everything you do is worth gratitude" is a very sappy, very Matt line and goes a long way to assuage those melancholy feelings.

[Author-Anon] OMG, thank you so so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

[Author-Anon] *consumes all the cookies forever* NOM NOM NOM

[Author-Anon] The introspective stuff may have kinda come from a place of personal experience to an extent, so I'm glad it came across okay. I love that you loved Amy showing up.

[Author-Anon] I am so delighted that you enjoyed this so much! ♥

[Author-Anon] Thank you, and I'm so glad you liked that line. I am less familiar with him than Taliesin and so it's good to know that I found that voice okay.

There's a gloryhole somewhere in a secluded corner of the G&S studios.

Throw in a queening chair for cast/crew members not equipped with dicks (curtained off for both sides' privacy).

Feel free to put whoever you want in there.

I couldn't not write this & now I have an Ivan fetish.
On AO3
**
Fitting

Liam breathed deeply, staring at the heavy white canvas hanging on a dressing dummy, its buckles almost too shiny to seem real. It wasn’t a prop jacket, he’d checked, and just the full body of it seemed imposing.The front buckles were already cinched down tight, the back left open and ready to be worn.

He heard Ivan’s voice not a foot behind him, far closer than he’d expected. “Are you sure that you want me to be the one to fit you?” It came out low and certain, the sound of darkness the man had cultivated for one purpose. One utterly delicious and entirely too effective purpose.

Liam swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and then nodded slowly. “It’s Sunday, I don’t want to bother anyone who isn’t already here.” There were other reasons, but he was reluctant to admit them. Ivan stepped closer, the hard sole of his shoe muffled on the dressing room carpet but still audible in the silence of the close space, and that reluctance began to slough away.

“I see.” Ivan answered, letting his nose brush against the nape of Liam’s neck before following the rough shadow on Liam’s cheek to his ear. “You know you don’t have to be shy, it’s just us here.”

Liam laughed awkwardly, the nervousness keening in the back of his throat. “Not shy… not in the least.”

“I can smell you.” Ivan’s voice dropped to a rumbling whisper and he drew in a dramatic sniff. “Smells like fear.”

Liam felt Ivan’s soft lips curl into a smile, facial hair tickling the side of his face and already drawing at that feared physical response he had thought might happen regardless of who was responsible for fastening him in. He hadn’t expected Ivan to be quite so clued in without even the barest hint. “Just… just a little intimidated.”

“Oh. Is that all?” Ivan drew back slightly, leaving a hand lingering on Liam’s elbow that he hadn’t felt touching him before. “I promise you’ll be safe here. Once you get used to the fit, you’ll be ready to film.”

“Right.” Liam let out a slight breath, holding back another nervous laugh. “L-less the fit, I’m sure you’ll get it on well, more…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

Ivan slid around him then, the hand that had been on his elbow landing on Liam’s hip, his thumb idly caressing where Liam’s undershirt tucked into his jeans. His eyes caught Liam’s, reading him and communicating in a language that Liam read unexpectedly loud and clear. He’d seen that look before in the eyes of others, that polite yet still predatory indication of being clearly in control. Maybe it had been a bad idea after all, maybe Sam had been wrong when he suggested it, maybe - just maybe - it would be wiser to have asked one of the dear wardrobe experts to please kindly ignore whatever physical effect the bondage would have on him.

“Relax.” Ivan said with an unnerving calm. “I’ll be with you through it.”

Liam swallowed again and nodded, feeling the shameful burn in his cheeks. “Yeah. Just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You’re a bad liar.” The left corner of Ivan’s mouth quirked upward, a crooked smile stretching his lips.

“And you expect me to admit that I’ve spent my fair share of time trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, unable to move and utterly helpless?” He had meant it as a joke, an entirely true joke, to test the waters of what would become far too clear, but it had come out as a stumbling confession that left his cheeks burning red and beads of sweat on his brow.

The smile righted itself then until it was a full and true grin. “Not exactly, but I’m glad you did.” Ivan’s eyes glanced over him and Liam was all too aware of the state of his zipper being strained from simple threat and proximity. He’d seen the man giggling in a onesie rolling on the floor with a mouthful of candy, and yet that image was not at all connecting to the man that stood so intently in front of him and the arousal he drew out of Liam.

Method acting. Yes. Of course. Fear response. A little bit of submission. All completely normal.

Liam lowered his head, a vain attempt to hide his clearly visible blush, and felt his body tense when Ivan’s hands rested on his shoulders, both thumbs tracing a slow circle over his thin shirt. “It’s okay.” Ivan said with only the barest hint of softness in his voice. “I’ll be gentle.” His left hand slid then, fingers cupping the back of Liam’s throat before squeezing gently. “Unless you’d rather I wasn’t.”

He didn’t intend to moan out loud so much as the sound rippled through his chest and clawed its way from his mouth before he could gather the sense to shut it down. “Sorry…” He gasped, following the intrusive sound with another awkward chuckle. “That… uh… that-”

“Is the most honest thing that’s happened in the last few minutes?” Ivan answered for him and Liam nodded, feeling the brush of Ivan’s curls on his forehead as he leaned in closer. “This is an intimate thing.” He paused, though Liam couldn’t parse if it was for dramatic effect or to gather his thoughts. “If you think I’m judging you, you’re wrong.”

Liam’s mouth went momentarily dry and he had to audibly clear his throat for words to come. “I think… I think this could pose a complication to our relative situation.”

“It doesn’t have to.” The words tumbled off Ivan’s tongue as though they’d been said before and suddenly Liam had a touch more clarity to situations he’d only been peripherally aware of before. The hand on the back of Liam’s throat squeezed again, harder this time and with clear intent that telegraphed right to the intended spot. “I know at least one person in this room has a certain degree of carte blanche when it comes to intimate situations.”

This time Liam whimpered. He then bit down on his lower lip until he could at least attempt to think straight. It was a thing, a thing that was happening while still heading toward the much more innocent thing that he had anticipated. “Or two.”

Ivan chuckled once before dropping back into his rumbling tone. “Well then, let’s get you trussed up.”

Liam glanced up as Ivan pulled away from him, taking the few long moments he had to attempt to compose his thoughts and at least give the appearance of not enjoying himself far too much. He watched Ivan’s strong hands grasp the canvas, let the clink of buckles wash over him in stereo with the subtle groan of effort as Ivan lifted it and carried it the six steps across the room.

“Arms out.”

Obedience had been earned so easily, that simple squeeze of Ivan’s hand dropping him right into the foggy headspace he so rarely got to wrap himself up in. It wasn’t fair how simply a commanding tone and intense presence could turn a nerd in ripped jeans and a novelty t-shirt who was barely taller than he was into some sort of dominant force. Liam raised his arms out in front of him as the straitjacket was turned to face outward; there was a clatter of buckles as it was forced open to show where those arms would be going. “It looks heavy.”

“It is.” Ivan answered, already pushing it over Liam’s hands and letting him begin to get used to the sensation of the canvas on his skin. “Heavy. Confining. Scary.” Liam whimpered low in the back of his throat, but Ivan didn’t let up. “The weight of metal and canvas only equalled with the weight of representation tied up in the thing.”

Liam nodded again, letting the thought percolate and mingle with the things he’d already prepared for his upcoming character. A man who’s lost control, who is not fully grounded in reality. The jacket, he thought, could bring that clarity in the same way he felt when leather and rope squeezed him tight and held him together until he felt like he couldn’t ever be broken. His cock shifted against the cotton of his shorts, the weight rising up his arms until it rested across his shoulders and against his chest and belly.

“Good?”

“Green.” Liam closed his eyes against the sensation and drew a deep breath through his nose. If there had ever been any hope he wouldn’t end up hard and ashamed it was dashed the moment Ivan’s mouth gently caressed the skin where his shirt collar shifted as he adjusted it into place. “I mean-”

“Good.” Ivan whispered. “I know what it means.” Liam heard the buckles shift again as Ivan took a step away to pull it taut against Liam’s chest. “I know a lot of things.”

“Yes?” Liam answered in the same whisper, unsure if Ivan would even hear it. Silence filled the room for half a second before being cut by the zip of canvas on metal as the first buckle was cinched down until Ivan’s broad palm pushed on his back. “Ah!”

“I know that’s a good sound.” Ivan answered. “And I know you’re dancing right on the cusp of falling deeply into your own senses.”

Falling. That was a good word, a very true word, though in his case it was less a tumble and more submerging himself in a warm bath that was always there on the fringes of his mind but required a very special tap. In his horribly mixed metaphor, Ivan was proving to be an ideal tap. A tap that was already making a loud show of tugging the third buckle tight enough to shift the canvas against his chest.

“I suspected this would give me a little more insight into the man behind the… well, the man.”

In his right mind Liam would laugh; this was a far different state entirely. “Yes.” He answered in utmost honesty. “Well, more than I thought-” There were more words, but the next buckle sunk him too deep to find them.

“Let me guess.” Ivan let out a small grunt as he cinched down the next strap, a decidedly unsubtle mental image flashing across Liam’s brain as he imagined just what Ivan would sound like sliding into him, forcing him open and taking his own pleasure. “You anticipated a little bit of an awkward erection from being put in bondage?”

Liam whimpered again, clearly all the response Ivan needed to continue. “And now that I’ve read you like a book, you don’t entirely know what to think.”

“Mmmhmm.” Liam closed his eyes tighter, the last buckle pressing the waistband of his jeans into his flesh, the canvas hugging him tight and pressing the fullness of its weight on him. It felt… nice. Calming and at the same time very exciting.

“I thought you might fight this, Liam.” Ivan’s voice drifted across Liam’s mind, almost a lovely dream that washed over him. “I didn’t really think you’d be such a responsive…” He paused again, though Liam couldn’t register if it was seconds or drawn out into minutes. “What are you, then?” He purred. “A needy bitch boy?” The words sharpened on his hypnotic tongue. “Or maybe something else… some…”

Ivan’s pause drew out to a clear prompt that Liam responded to readily. “A toy. A plaything.”

“To be taken out and used.” Ivan added seamlessly, the motion of Liam’s arms being wrapped across his own belly and pulled backward lost to the depth of the moment. “Put away when I’m satisfied, then. So docile and unfazed by your own needs.”

Liam gasped, the sound inaudible to ears that focused on the whirr of the long sleeves being buckled tightly into place, leaving him fully restrained and unable to fight it even if he wanted to. He was entirely left to Ivan’s whim, and those lovely words made him certain that was a very good thing.

“I can feel it, you know?” Ivan murmured, pressing himself tight against Liam’s arms. “I don’t have to touch you to know that you’re aching right now.”

Later Liam would tell himself that he had no idea, that seeing this side of Ivan and showing that side of himself would somehow have been unexpected. In the moment, it all made perfect sense. The easy cadence of Ivan’s voice lulled him even as strong fingers squeezed over the obscene hardness in Liam’s jeans and begin to gently grip and release there. Maybe he’d been waiting for the shoe to drop, to give himself permission to allow someone to take control.

He groaned and felt his knees go weak, the sound replaced with a deep moan when Ivan’s arms caught and held him upright. “Careful there…” Ivan said, “I might have to find a hook to keep you standing.”

That was almost too much, the mental image alone of being hung off the door hook by the loop at the collar of the straitjacket combined with the steady tease through his jeans and made his knees buckle again, pushing him back against Ivan’s pelvis. He wasn’t the only one in quite a state.

One hand shifted on Liam’s chest and pushed up the tight clench of front buckles until long fingers wrapped over his mouth. “You want it, don’t you?” Ivan whispered, wiry sideburns rasping against his skin with each rub of Ivan’s lips on his ear. “You want to be useful, used... “ Ivan groaned as Liam’s hips moved of their own volition and pushed into him encouragingly. “Oh-ho-ho… you are a fucking treasure. So eager, so desperate to be put in your place.”

The fingers closed over Liam’s mouth did little to stifle the loud moan of unrestrained affirmative. When Ivan suddenly pushed back, a hard thrust of hips driving his hardness against Liam’s ass gave more than enough leverage to bend him at the waist easily. “I’m going to remove my hand,” Ivan said firmly, “and you’re going to ask nicely.”

The tips of Ivan’s fingers were barely clear of the corner of Liam’s mouth when sounds somewhat like language tumbled out. “Please… fuck… please!”

In response, Ivan pushed himself against Liam’s bent body and carefully brought him down to the floor until he was cheek down on the carpet with his ass up, pinned underneath Ivan’s weight and utterly restrained. “You can do better than that.” He shifted his torso, letting more press against Liam’s back as he growled into his ear. “You know how to beg, don’t you?”

Liam gasped and then whined, a full shudder passing through him as he tried to organize anything even close to real thought. Things had gone from zero to one hundred much faster than he was really capable of processing. He let out a shaking breath and whispered, “Green.” He was fine, this was fine, everything was fine even if his cock was leaving an unsightly wet spot he was going to have to hide like a high schooler after gym class. Louder, more deliberately, he answered the demand. “I need it.” He panted. “I… please... “ His shoulders shifted with the guidance of Ivan’s sure hands and suddenly the pressure on the small of his back felt like a warning to stop stalling and be honest. “Use me.” He sobbed. “Chew me up and spit me out and make me cry if you want to.”

Then, Ivan moaned. Loud and dramatic, the sound rattled against Liam’s ear and straight to his loins. Desperately, Liam pushed with his shoulders and knees to arch himself against the ever-pressing weight. “Good boy…” Ivan sighed tenderly, sliding the palm that rested at Liam’s waist until fingers groped the button of his jeans and tugged hard. “Such a compliant treasure, aren’t you?”

“Ahhhhh…” Liam wasn’t aware of audible sound escaping him, but he was hyper-aware of Ivan’s hand pushing past cloth to wrap around his cock and deliver that precious touch of skin against skin.

“Already wet.” Ivan purred as he began to gently stroke, each slide drawing out a whimper and twitch. “You’re going to come already, aren’t you?”

He didn’t mean to, didn’t want to seem quite as desperate as he felt in the heat of the moment, but it was undeniably true. The tight clutch of the straitjacket holding him together was almost enough on its own, but then Ivan had to go and show the true colors lurking just under the surface. A squeak of affirmative closed Liam’s throat, his balls tightened and throbbed, and then he let go with all the dignity of a helpless thing.

Ivan chuckled and nipped playfully at the curve of Liam’s ear before teasing him all the more. “Shh… such a needy treasure…” He collected the sticky fluid on his fingers, stroking wicked circles over the throbbing head of Liam’s cock, before withdrawing to shove them between his lips. “You’re so cute right now. You’re blushing, you know? This is so wrong, isn’t it?” He slid his sticky index and middle finger along Liam’s tongue, opening them when he responded with gentle kitten licks. “Every time you hear my voice you’ll think about being wrapped up tight and completely at my mercy.”

Liam grunted and breathed even deeper through his nose, forcing himself and focusing entirely on trying to suck clean those sullied fingers. The familiar tang on his tongue mingled with the truth of Ivan’s words. Cute. Wrong. Tight. Mercy. He was vaguely aware of his jeans and shorts being pushed down to expose him, it was only the gentle brush of canvas on his thighs that made it clear what was coming next. “Oh God…” The sound escaped him in the same moment as Ivan’s spit-slick fingers. “Yes. Yes. Please… use me. Please.”

Ivan shifted his weight on top of him again, his left hand suddenly pushing against Liam’s shoulder and forcing his torso against the carpet until he could acutely feel the buckles digging into his chest. With one leg planted between his knees and Ivan’s right hand braced on his tailbone he was pinned, helpless and exposed. “You have no idea how tempted I am…” Ivan murmured, idly sliding his finger from tailbone to crack - a delicate tease of skin on skin that Liam’s heightened senses relished. “You’re shaking, you know. It would be so easy to just open you up...” His voice trailed as his fingers did, teasing along Liam’s crack before pushing the blunt thickness of his middle finger against his opening, barely pressing there. “Use you properly, fill you up like the beautiful receptacle that you are.”

Gasping as the spit-wet finger slid into him, Liam shuddered again and would not be surprised if he was hard again, or still. It wasn’t any one thing, not the easy way Ivan’s thick finger opened him and searched out along his innermost walls for that tender little bundle of nerves, nor the words in that calm low tone, but rather the combining of all the elements seeping into his tightly wrapped psyche at one sensuous stew of a moment. He moaned, drool dripping down his lower lip and hitting his chin where he was helpless to wipe it away.

“You are definitely tempting.” Ivan continued, seemingly undaunted by Liam’s pathetic whimpering moans. “Unfortunately I believe that we’re ill-prepared for the sort of things I could do with something larger than this.” He punctated the statement by massaging the tip of his middle finger against a very sensitive spot until Liam squirmed and writhed underneath him, unable to get away. “Thankfully for both of us, I’m not the kind of man that needs to fuck you with my cock to feel good.” His finger shifted then, slow at first but increasing in speed and intensity. “It’s much more fun to simply tease and take the sort of thing that I’m certain very few have seen in you.”

Liam whimpered again, low and plaintive this time. The nebulous words that more filtered through his addled brain than actually engaged his thoughts were right, very few… so very few he could allow such a level of vulnerability with. He shuddered and the hand that had pinned him at the shoulders suddenly seized him by the back straps and yanked him up on his knees - driving the finger that probed him shockingly deep.

“And time is a little bit of a problem.” Ivan’s voice dipped lower still. “See, very soon we’ll have to be face to face with people that will never know what this device has been through.” His teeth caught Liam’s ear and nipped hard enough to leave a red spike of heat behind. “And won’t know that every time you look at me you’re going to think about this little moment where you know you are my plaything.”

“Yes.” Liam gulped his voice wavering and weak. “I-I-I-” He stammered and then faltered completely as the sticky tender head of his cock brushed against the canvas clinging to his belly. “Oh God!”

“Shhh… just give me what I want, treasure… just a little more for me.”

A sound somewhere between a shriek and a gasp broke the tension of the room as Liam’s balls throbbed in tune with the deep deep massage and he realized he was riding the precipice dangerously close to an even more awkward mess.

“Good boy…” Ivan purred as he leaned Liam’s helpless frame against his chest to reach and wrap a hand around the base of Liam’s aching cock. “Can’t have you making a mess of this prize, can we?”

“No…” Liam whined. “S-sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Ivan commanded, barely shifting the fingertip inside him as he favored slow and steady strokes from the base of Liam’s cock to the wet tip. “You are my toy. I will use you as I please.”

Whimpering and trembling, Liam floated in the depths of submission for a long moment until the ache in his loins became a nearly painful expulsion, pulses of his seed being drawn out by skilled fingers and words that hadn’t even registered to his conscious brain.

“-and then next time you won’t even expect it, will you?” Ivan was saying in clipped and drawn out words that demanded an answer.

“Next time?” Liam rasped, dazed in the moment. The response was fleshy knuckles once more coated in his own fluids being slid along the inside of his cheek until his mouth was spread with the width of Ivan’s fingers.

“Don’t pretend this won’t happen again.” Ivan murmured, slowly working his fingers in a curled gesture to stroke Liam’s obedient lapping tongue. “You’re not the kind of man to deny someone their precious plaything.”

Lord no, he certainly wasn’t. No. Not even the sort of someone that was making him gag on long fingers as he was held from behind doubly clenched in Ivan’s embrace and then the increasingly warm and heavy canvas cocoon. He grunted and drooled around the mass of wiggling fingertips, tongue flicking between them to collect every stray drop of his essence and worship them properly. Next time then, he thought in a lust-drunk haze. There were so many possibilities for this next time.

“Good.” Ivan whispered against his ear, turning just enough for that wiry hair to once more tickled at the sweaty skin of Liam’s hairline. “Now you’re going to be a good plaything and serve your purpose.”

The low “uh huh” in Liam’s throat came out a wet and gurgly groan from around Ivan’s fingers, his palm damp when Ivan cupped it over his chin and opened his mouth wide with a gentle pulling downward. Compliance felt so good, so right. Easy.

“Open nice and wide now, that’s good…” Ivan murmured low and slow, less command and more reminder. “Now don’t move.”

If he was even capable of moving, Liam wouldn’t have considered it. Even when Ivan’s warm body shifted away from his back and long denim legs stepped over him, Liam didn’t flinch or move a muscle. Instead, he waited in calm complacency, staring straight ahead at eyeline with the hard rise of arousal pushing through an open zipper atop a cushion of blue undershorts and ginger curls. He licked his lips and heard the sound of Ivan clearing his throat.

Ivan’s hand stroked over Liam’s temple, spreading the wetness of his saliva as he brushed back a stray lock that had fallen out of place in the light manhandling. He then grasped hard enough to elicit another throaty moan as he tilted back Liam’s head ever so slightly. “Right there. You really do have a lovely mouth, I know it’s trite to say it, but you do.”

Liam blushed even deeper, were such a thing possible, but didn’t move one bit. He closed his eyes and Ivan tugged again, drawing them open to look into his smiling face as Ivan withdrew the fullness of his erection and rubbed the crown along Liam’s wet lips. Anticipating what was to come as best he could, his tongue darted out to taste the first musky arousal he’d been allowed and once more Liam felt his knees go weak and his stamina falter for only a moment.

“Did I tell you to lick it?” Ivan asked simply, giving Liam’s hair a hard yank.

“Ahh… no.” Liam groaned and then gulped. “May I? Please? May I take care of this?”

“Better.” Ivan offered a half nod, his fingers slowly uncurling to give Liam to room to to do so. “Best be quick…” He murmured, the taut grasp reverting to a more tender petting as Liam leaned into it, finding the firm flesh with his lips and then his tongue to taste him. “I’m sure you don’t want to be caught exposed and on your knees with my dick in your mouth.”

His heart rate pushed higher at the mere thought, part of him always suspected if he was ever caught with a dick in his mouth at all it would probably be someone he had a much closer intimate friendship with. Still, there was risk and there was also Ivan’s hand on the back of his head guiding him into place with practiced ease. He grunted, but obediently took the full length down his tongue until it brushed the back of his throat and forced a soft swallow.

“Good boy…” Ivan rewarded Liam with another long rake of fingers through his hair before resting his palm at the nape of Liam’s neck to get better hold as he began to slowly rock his hips against the tease of tongue and lips. “Be nice and still, close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

Liam’s eyes closed with hardly a thought, his ears already tuned in to the low rumble of Ivan’s gentle yet intent cadence. All he had to do was exist and be a good warm hole, to listen and do what he was told.

“This is a real honor, you know?” Ivan murmured appreciatively, gently tickling the downy hairs at the base of Liam’s neck even as he thrust into the welcoming heat of his throat. “I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing such an eager treasure of a toy in a long time… and I admit, I didn’t think you had this in you.”

Ivan’s fingers danced down Liam’s spine only an inch or so before once more seizing the broad canvas strap down the back, rattling the tightly cinched buckles there. When Liam responded with several eager hard swallows, he yanked again and left it pulled taut against Liam’s body. “This was the key for you, wasn’t it? You knew what it would do to you to be held together and helpless. You were afraid of someone knowing that about you.”

Liam grunted and for the first time in the long moments since the encounter started, he fought against the straitjacket and tried to pull at the sleeves - both relishing in the tension that strained across his shoulders in return and the suddenly aggressive grasp of Ivan’s fingers once more in his hair to hold him still.

“You’ll finish this, and then I’ll start back on your buckles.” Ivan’s voice sounded menacing, but when he followed it with a clear safety check, Liam realized that their footing was still as equal as it was at the start. “Lift your right shoulder twice if you understand.”

Groaning around the thick shaft that jerked and pushed against his gag reflex, Liam nosed in even closer to Ivan’s musky nest of ginger fur and indeed raised his shoulder twice, quick but with purpose. It was good, it was so fucking good…

And Ivan tugged again, twisting his wrist just enough that Liam’s mouth opened wider for a silent scream that was completely stifled around one hard thrust from the tip of his tongue to the back of his throat. Ivan moaned loud enough that the odds of them being caught escalated even further, but then forced it back to growl out real words. “You just need a firm hand sometimes to remind you of what you are, Liam.” He shuddered and panted hard, Liam could feel the tightness coiling in Ivan’s thighs as they literally held him upright. “A sweet little toy held together with string and with buckles to be played with and then put away without a scratch on him.”

Ivan was almost a gentleman when he came, his husky voice dropping down to a rumbling moan that rattled in his chest as pulses of fluid started on Liam’s tongue and then slid out from between his lips, streaking across the bruised flesh before wiping across his cheeks and marking him. Ivan stroked his hair and mumbled half-legible platitudes about his treasured toy as he gave one last nudge of his spent cock against Liam’s nose.

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