#percival de rolo x f!reader

[tinygarbage]

Fine Line

pairing: percival de rolo x f!reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, no use of y/n, no specific reader description, brief mention of torture, mentions of scars, smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up yall), creampie 😵‍💫, riding (save a horse), aftercare, praise, (let me know what if anything is missing!)

a/n: dedicated to my sweet @annasinterests because she gave me this new obsession and unavoidable brain rot of this pretty little (very tall) man.

but! this is my first time actually sharing my writing in full and im very nervous 😵‍💫 this has absolutely no purpose and no plot. just something kind of cute that i thought about while lying in bed with my partner :)

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛

It's been weeks since you and Percy have found yourself completely alone. After an especially stressful and exhausting expedition, you and Percy agreed to stay back while the others drink in celebration. After they leave, it isn't long until Percy's grabbing you and slamming you into the bed. It quickly turns into an all night affair. Not that you're complaining.

Eventually, after round three or four, you end the night on top. You're bouncing and rolling on top of him. He's stretching you open and you're chanting his name like a prayer. His pale fingers dig into your hips, gritting his teeth as you pull the last of his energy from his body. His warm touch travels up your body, grabbing a handful of your breasts with his large hands. A string of strangled moans and whimpers spill from your swollen lips as he holds onto you. You move faster, chasing his release. Your fingers trace at the jagged scar crossing down his chest. He doesn't pay attention to the touch. Instead, he groans as he spills the last of himself into you.

You collapse forward, his arms wrapping around you. He holds you against his broad frame. Your forehead is pressed against the crook of his neck as his fingers play with strands of you hair. You're both a little sweaty and sticky, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. His spend drips slowly down his shaft, making a small mess. Neither of you pay attention to it. "Thank you, my dear." He whispers into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I missed you," you say back, nuzzling into his neck as your arms lay limp at your sides.

He chuckled, his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you up so he can get a better look at your naked form on top of him. His left hand rests on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles. His right hand caresses your warm cheek, squeezing slightly as you smile at him lazily. "I missed this time with you, my darling." His voice was deep, filled with adoration.

You smile wider this time, your hands holding onto both of his wrists. Slowly, you drag your fingers down to his shoulders. You squeeze lightly, your thumbs stroke at his collarbones, tracing small scars and a recent scratch from your recent endeavor.

A mischievous smile is stuck on your lips as you lift your hips. His length falls out of you, falling back onto his happy trail. You grin, feeling more of his spend dripping from your cunt as you move yourself down and shift off the bed. He attempts to get up but you push him down.

     "I'll clean us up today." You whisper, kissing his forehead. He hums in response with a dazed smile.

     You clean yourself up, coming back with a wash cloth to clean him up. He lays back flat, still breathing heavily in his postcoital state. A small sigh of pleasure slips from his swollen lips, an arm lazily thrown over his eyes. You smile, cleaning him up before tossing the cloth in the hamper. You pick up his shirt, slipping it over your frame and buttoning the middle two buttons.

    Slowly, you slide back into his bed, hands working themselves up and down his torso. Your thumbs massage through the muscles on his stomach, leaving small, loving kisses at his collarbones. The arm draped over his eyes moves to your cheek to caress it softly. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes as his thumb grazes your cheekbone. Adoration and affection fill his gaze as he stares at you, straddling him once again.

He winces slightly as your thumb pushes down into a spot on his shoulder that was giving him trouble. You rub it out slowly, feeling the knot loosen as he grunts. "That feel good?" You ask softly, a small giggle filling the room.

He smiles back, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Yes, much better."

Your eyes flicker back up to him. You cant help but admire him in this state. Completely blissed out and deeply in love. Finally allowing himself to be fragile, to be soft. You've completely cracked his shell, spreading him open into the rawest form of himself. Getting to know every curve and line on his muscular body. It took a long time to get here with him. Spending endless days and countless nights by his side. With each passing hour he becomes more open and vulnerable to you. After Whitestone, he had promised to be more honest. Not just with the group, but with you.

You'd lay together with his head on your chest, your fingers brushing through his soft hair. He'd tell you every little detail. Whether it was about a specific dinner with his family or the torturous actions of Anna Ripley. The woman he had yet to escape from. His nightmares about the torture come and go, but he has you now. To hold him while he breaks, whisper to him that he's safe and that you'd never let anything happen to him. That the group would never let anything to happen to him. That he's loved and cherished, even when he's acting like a pretentious ass.

But now, it was different. He was vulnerable to you in a completely different manner. Not shielding you from the scars and stories that litter his pale skin. The jagged lines and the imperfections that you worship on nights like these. They are all open for you to kiss, to love, to hold. He was open to showing you his love in its rawest form. Open to admiring each other and tracing shapes and confessions onto each others skin.

So you sigh in contentment, moving to lay down next to him. Your head falls to his shoulders, your body pressed against him as he lays on his back. One of your legs lift on top of his hips as you feel him pull you closer. His arm is around you, lazily drawing circles on your side. Your warm hand rests on bare chest as you both lay in silence. Breathing in each others presence in the calming candlelight that illuminates his bedroom.

Your pointer finger lifts, touching the start of the long scar that runs in a diagonal curve across his chest. The soft pad of your fingers presses down as it drags down his pecs and over a protruding rib. A sigh leaves his lips, his free hand moving from his stomach to brush strands of your hair out of your face. "You seem to like that one." He says softly.

You stay silent for a moment, kissing where it starts at his shoulders. His hand falls to your shoulder while his other arm pulls you tighter. "You're so strong." You say lightly.

    "Not nearly as strong as you, my love." His voice is light and sweet. Coated with sleep.

      You just chuckle, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your free hand holds onto his side while you bend down to press soft, calculating kisses down the deep scar. A deep sigh of pleasure is heard as your kisses get longer and heavier.

“Don’t start again, I have no energy.” He grumbles playfully as you kiss down to the very edge of the scar.

“Sorry,” you says sheepishly, falling back into your spot next to him.

He brushes your hair off your face and gives you a tired smile. “Don’t worry. I like it.” His voice is softer than usual, filled with adoration.

Your head is back on his chest, focusing on the rise and fall with each breath. His heartbeat slows down as each minute passes. “‘M tired,” you say as your cheek is pressed against his chest.

He pulls you closer, brushing your hair back and resting that hand on your shoulder. A small kiss is pressed on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep,” he says. He presses a long kiss in the same spot before whispering your name. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

[annasinterests]

I See Fire

|| main masterlist ||

a/n: i'm dedicating this to my love @tinygarbage because the percy brainrot has been unreal for both of us. i thought this up after watching a tiktok (pls don't ask me i literally watched it once, swiped out of the app, then threw my phone across the room) and so this is what we got fellers. ALSO, one line is directly inspired by/from the D&D movie, so i give credit to my boy edgin because honestly the scene about him being so unapologetically honest about his mistakes was everything to me (i also guessed his dialogue word-for-word that entire time and was RIGHT). honestly thinking ab whether or not if i wanna make a part 2 to this..

divider by @saradika ! ❤️‍🔥

word count: 682 words (who knew i could actually write under 1k)

pairings: percy de rolo x reader

warnings & tags: angst, past trauma, arguing, cursing, miscommunication, unresolved ending

“No!-��� You seethe, hands balling into fists at your sides, “Don’t you get it?”

Percy scoffed, “You ask that like I should know, and I don’t!” He raised a pointed finger to you, “How can I when all you ever do is leave us in the dark!”

Your jaw clenches as you turn away. White-hot anger blazed your body and blotted out everything else, even the tears that brimmed your eyes and streaked your cheeks.

“Always putting yourself at an arm’s distance, acting like you have the biggest burden to carry– well, guess what? We all have shit of our own!” His rigid tone made your face scrunch up. “You push away every single person that tries to get under the surface, including us! We’re supposed to be a team, damn it!”

You hated him. His pompous attitude and sense of entitlement, as if he’s somehow better than everyone else, or deserves explanations for things that don’t concern him. You hated his stupid glasses that made him look pretentious as hell, and that unnecessary trench coat he wore at all times. And the way he constantly whips out some sort of contraption that leaves the others in awe, stroking his ego, but you wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.

But what you really hated, arguably most of all, was that he saw you. Right through all the acts and walls you put up to protect yourself– a promise that there’d be no more pain and tears for as long as you lived out your days.

A promise now shattered.

“Without trust, we are nothing.” The words are venomous, so full of exasperation that it strains his voice on the last word.

A sigh and some shuffling follows a moment or two after, and all you can think is how he’s undeniably soothing the crease between his brows while his other hand rests on his hip, a classic pose of his in high-stress situations. Not that you ever paid attention…

“Believe me, it’s not worth living life that way.” His voice was softer, almost apologetic, “It’s… lonely.”

Had you been completely blinded by your own emotions, you would’ve taken the opportunity to tell him to shove it and kick rocks, but you spared him.

“I, too, thought it was easier. I’d seen my loved ones hunted like game, my own sister betrayed our family name, Whitestone had been–”

“Whitestone still stands,” you snap harshly, abruptly cutting him off. “My home does not.”

It’s then you finally turn back to him with a chilling glare and darkened features. His expression drops to widened eyes and slightly raised brows, clear that he’d not been expecting that response. But now it started, and you couldn’t stop.

“My friends do not– my family does not.” The words are registering at higher decibels that burn your throat after each word, “My life– everything!”

You march up to him, squaring up before his infuriatingly tall frame, locking eyes with his. You were shouting in his face, reaching a point of zenith you didn’t know you had, your vocal cords raw and sore that you were sure they could snap at any moment.

“I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me and it was all my fault!”

Your body is trembling from the sheer force of the confession, and the air isn’t getting to your lungs the way you need it to right now. Your eyes, narrowed and fierce, fight to maintain their focus, but that buried, broken part of you is clawing its way out with a strength you can’t compete against.

His eyes flicker between yours, his face softened by a frown. You force yourself to look anywhere but his pitying gaze; you don’t need or want it, especially from him. You hastily wipe away the tears with the back of your hand, take a sharp breath in, and then exhale deeply. Out of all people, you couldn’t believe the one person to break you down would be none other than fucking Percival Fredrickstein von Mu—

“You don’t really believe that… do you?”

Yes, of course I do.

[taste-of-the-divine]

ꕤ | Inked | Percy De Rolo

— VOX MACHINA : switch!percy x femcumslut!reader

✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: ​you're the first to fall asleep at a party, and you get cumslut written over your forehead with a marker. it causes an "issue" for percy a few hours later. ✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: fic (Part 1), 1.8k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: missing consent/dubcon (percy as victim), powerplay (subby percy into dom percy), degredation, namecalling (cumsl*t, wh*re, l*ve), somnophelia, cumhungry!reader, power dynamic switch, sir, mentions of breeding

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: i did not proofread this :') hopefulyl its legible BUT eventually i'll go back and make the edits i need. the idea was inspired by this post, and it's probably (?) not done yet.

♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

“Oh cmon, wasn’t the bet that the first one asleep gets a dick drawn on their forehead?” 

Percy, your boyfriend, shoots Scanlan a dirty look through his rosy drunk cheeks. “Have you no decency? She’s a lady for God’s sake, Scanlan. How will I explain to all of Whitestone tomorrow if we have to leave the confines of our home?” 

The pop of a marker and the cap clicking against the floor was enough of a signal that Scanlan didn’t quite care all that much for the high maintenance prince. “Well, then you have an excuse to stay in for a day. Resting’s important, Percy,” he says, before hopping onto a stool to get to your head, slumped over on the couch. Percy stumbles to his feet to try and stop him from putting that bright pink ink on your skin, but he’s forced back into his chair at the hand of Vax. 

“Hey, he’s right, you know. You kind of need a day at home, if you ask me,” Vax says, leaning his weight on Percy’s shoulder to keep him down. Percy glares at him too, going to shove his hand away so that he could get to you, but to no avail. Percy’s too wasted for hand eye coordination.

“Oh, Percy, darling, relax,” his sister says from across the table, looking at Scanlan trying to balance and draw on your knocked out face. “She agreed to the game before we even started drinking, and she’s an adult, so I’m sure she’ll be fine. And if she isn’t– well, you can make sure she’s fine. In the morning. No more fussing about it now, you can barely get to your feet,” she says, words slurring before taking a swig out of her bottle. 

He can’t relax, at least not when Pike isn’t around. Pike’s usually the babysitter of the group, and with Keyleth vomiting her guts out again, they were somewhere downstairs in the bathroom. Grog wouldn’t be of much help either– he was entranced in some sort of conversation with his reflection in the mirror, flexing and unflexing his muscles to look at. 

“Annnnnd, ta-da!” Scanlan grins, showing the marvel to the three others in the room. Cumslut was written across your forehead in big, bold letters, with a penis as the T. Scanlan was really, an artist of all trades.

Percy was the first to react, and the only one that didn’t burst out in absolute side pinching tears. “Scanlan! You little useless bard!” He swung around to Vex and Vax. “I thought we agreed that it would be the dick drawing?”

“Well,–” Vex laughs, whipping away his tears. “There is a dick. There’s just–” he makes eye contact with Vex across the table, who was holding her own laughter for a little before the two burst out again into hearty giggles. “–some other additions.”

Percy sighed. There wasn’t really another other choice; what’s done is done. Hopefully you wouldn’t be too mad when you woke up in the morning about it. And hopefully, the ink would come off soon.

-

Percy, with his lithe frame, was not the one that carried you into bed. Grog actually carried the both of you into bed– bragging that he could do anything with his giant muscles. Percy would have been grateful for that omission of an opportunity to make a fool out of himself, had he been properly awake during that time of the night. He’d passed out on his own accord after a few more shots into the night.

It didn’t take long before he stirred awake. Alcohol never quite helped keep him asleep as well as it put him to sleep. But his body sure felt warm, skin flushed a little as he reveled in the pleasure of being under clean sheets. There was also pleasure budding from his core, some shifting between his legs– 

“What on earth?!–” he manages to choke out before throwing his head backwards as some cavern of warm, wet heat descends on him. It felt good and needy and desperate, and when he had the moment to take a breath from the sudden crashing waves of pleasure, he lifted the blankets to find you, face nestled neatly between his legs, with his cock in your mouth and a protruding cheek. 

“My love,” he says, voice soft and hitched at first. “Y-you need to stop or else,–” A groan cuts through, his hands fisting the sheet that he’s holding up to see you kitten licking his tip. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he hisses, but he doesn’t get an answer because you take his whole length into your mouth again, mushroom tip gliding against the roof of your mouth before sinking into your back tongue. He’s watching you, or doing the best he can with his eyes half-lidded and his mouth agape. When you wrap your hands around his base, twisting and bobbing at the same time, Percy grimaces, one eye forcing itself shut as he watches you with the other. His cheeks are flushed a deep red, and his skin feels sticky under the touch of your fingers, but all you can think about is his cum, and how much you want it down your throat. 

“S-slow d-down,” he stutters, a frustrated moan drawing out of his throat when you don’t listen. He can’t stop his hips from bucking up into your mouth, the sensation of your tongue swirling around the tip all too much for him. He’s close, and you know that, feeling his balls twitching under your chin– and perfect, because that’s exactly what you want. So you keep at it, watching him writhe and pant and seize up with his head thrown back and his eyes cross when he cums down your throat. It’s sticky and a little bitter from the alcohol, but you don’t mind it at all, because you’ve been craving this feeling since you woke up. You suck, and suck, and keep sucking him, milking every little bit that you can. 

He’s a whimpering mess now, his other hand grabbing you by the hair to attempt to pull you off his cock. 

“Love, love, please– please stop, I’m done, I can’t–” but that gets cut off by another moan, his knees shaking and bottoming out underneath you as your hands work his cock from base to tip, using spit and cum as lube. 

He’s never seen you like this before, so needy, so pushy for it– whatever it, was. In a moment of clarity as your hands lift on the pressure to his cock, he reads the word on your forehead again. Cumslut.

He puts two and two together in the middle of a desperate whimper, throwing his head to the side as the pleasure in his overstimulated dick multiplies. On the nightstand was the marker that Scanlan used, capped and sitting neatly by his nightlight. Grabbing it off the table, he managed what he could with you turning him into putty from the waist down, grabbing one of your hands that you were using to support your weight scribbling “obedient” into it the best he could.

Nothing different happened at first– you continued to milk him for all that he was worth, and Percy couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head as he felt the familiar coil in the abdomen forming, ready to snap. “Hah- hah, hmpfh, s-stop, love, h-hang on–” he begs of you, and for the first time in the night, you oblige, hands and mouth lifting off his cock with the nasty squelch. 

He looks at you, panting, undignified drool at the edge of your lips, and he slips a finger over it and wipes it away. Catching his breath, he dedicates a moment to taking you in; needy, glazed-over cum-hungry eyes as his cock rests on your cheek, tousled hair, plump, shiny lips coated in a thin sheen of spit and semen, the white of your teeth poking out from under. You looked gorgeous for him like that, and he let you know by pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You want my cum that badly, is that right?” he says, tentative at first. But you nod, rather vigorously, at that. It flips some sort of switch inside of him, and you feel him pull you by the hair, your own whimper leaving your throat as he exposes your throat to him. 

“A little cumslut wants her holes filled. What a sight,” he taunts, a wicked smirk brewing at the corners of his lips. The way he looks at you runs a chill down your spine– it was the way he looked at something he wanted, no, needed, to be under his control. 

And you were more than ready to give that.

“Be a good girl, then. Get on with it. On your hands and knees, on the floor,” he commands you, nodding towards the wood floor you have next to the bed. You glance down and back at him, and he’s watching you expectantly. Heat rising to your own cheeks, you shuffle down, assuming position on all fours as he requested.

You hear him shifting off the bed, stalking behind you– you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and then– a searing burn on your knees as you’re re-oriented, looking up to see the closet mirror and yourself staring back at you, cumslut written over your forehead. And dauntingly, above and behind you, stood Percy. 

You’re naked, because you woke up earlier and tried to satisfy your urges by touching yourself, which, went nowhere, clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t be in this cum-drunk state– but he is clothed; well, partially clothed, his sleeping robe untied and hanging off his shoulders. He knees behind you, secures your ankles to the ground with the weight of his calves and body, and sinks his fingers into your sides. 

“Spread your pussy for me.”

Your eyes go wide, thundering in your chest. He notices your hesitation, and grabs a fistful of hair and pulls you towards him.

“I said, spread your pussy for me. Do I need to repeat myself?”

Some sort of noise comes out of you that sounds vaguely like a whimper and a “yes, sir,” as you take your hands and grab your ass to satisfy his request. You feel a bubbling of dopamine in your chest when you obey him, and it feels good, addictive, almost.

When you feel the weight of his cock pressed against your entrance, your body instinctively gravitates towards him, craving to be filled. But you feel his weight pull away, teasing it along your slit as he leans over to your ear. 

“Be patient, love. Just enjoy it, I’ll do the work, my little cumslut. You’re such a needy little breeding whore, aren’t you?”

© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

[winniethewife]

For the lost and mislead

(Percival de Rolo X F!reader) 

Prompt: Gun play

Words:1513

Warnings: Bondage, hate fucking, No Mercy Percy, Dub-con, On the wall, Bleeding, edging, Unprotected sex, 

A/N: For my Event Nine weeks in hell, and Kinktober, Thank you @midgardian-witch for beta reading

When she came to she felt her hands bound behind her with rope, a strip of fabric covered her eyes. Where was she? What was going on? She tried to feel something around her but found nothing but a cold damp floor. Just then there was the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as an intimidating presence entered the room.  

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” She asked,her voice sounded far away from her as it echoes around the room. She heard the sound of deliberate footsteps approaching her. 

“Who I am doesn’t matter, what I want is information.” The man’s voice was cold and filled with malice. Her mind started to race, what kind of information could she have? She was only a guard for a noble family, what could she possibly know that this mysterious man wants? He took another step towards her and she felt a cold metallic weapon pressed to her forehead, although she didn’t know what it was, she could sense that she was mere moments from death if she said the wrong thing. “Tell me where the Briarwoods are.” The man whispered, the threat on her life obvious with every syllable. She stiffened, ah she did actually know something that the mysterious man wanted. 

“I don’t know who they are.” She lied through her teeth. She felt the sting of a gloved hand across her face.

“Liar, I know you work for them, Now tell me what I want to know.” She heard in his voice how desperate he was to find out this information. Who in all of Exandria would want to know this so badly? She couldn’t fathom which of the Briarwoods’ enemies would take the time to kidnap one of their guards and subject them to an interrogation of this kind. 

“I…I don’t know where they are.” This at least was relatively honest, she knew they had left on a journey some days ago but she couldn’t possibly know where along the road to their destination they were at this time. The man scoffed and the feeling of the cold metal pressed against her skull vanished. He knelt down in front of her, she could feel the warmth of his body as he loomed over her. She felt his hands on her face, then the blindfold came off. In the low light of the basement she could just barely see him. Bright white hair, striking blue eyes, he looked familiar… She couldn’t quite place why. He looked at her, scanning her eyes like he was trying to analyze the information that lay there. 

“But you know something. Something I want to know.” He said darkly, his eyes narrowed as he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to look at him, she felt his breath on her face as he kept pulling her closer. His eyes darkened, and an odd look crossed his face, something between disgust and desire. She felt something she didn’t expect to feel in this moment, a need to feel this man against her, someone she should despise or fear but in that second, she wanted him, no, needed him. 

“Who are you?” She asked suddenly, she wanted to know more than that but for now a name would suffice. The man blinked twice like he was surprised she asked. 

“My name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo The Third.” He said with a rehearsed tone, the air of nobility and pride that should come with such a name long gone. As someone who grew up in Whitestone she immediately understood who was in front of her. He watched the recognition in her eyes as her brows raised in subtle surprise. She didn’t respond, she didn’t have to, he already knew every thought that could possibly cross her mind with this information. He decided to move on, he held the pepperbox up to where she could see it clearly. “You see this? You see these names on my gun? Each name is someone who wronged me, someone who did something unforgivable, you don’t want to be on this list, you want to walk out of here alive with nothing to worry about.” With one swift movement the gun was pressed back to her temple. “If you don’t want to be another name on my barrel, I suggest you tell me what I want to know.”  

“I don’t have the information you want.” She reiterated, albeit much more nervously. He growls and a flash of shadow blinded her for a moment, in the darkness her mouth was wrenched open and there was cold metal shoved between her teeth. As Percy looked down on her and although he mostly felt the rage from the apparent deception, he couldn't help the rise of arousal that filled his chest as he looked down at the sight of her lips around his gun. She looked up at him, her heart thudding in her ears, she was sure she was seconds from death, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she closed her eyes, silently praying for it to end swiftly and painlessly. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, she opened her eyes again and watched as he held his hardening bulge over his pants looking at her with his eyes clouded with lust. He pressed the gun further into her mouth, rubbing himself as he did so. “Maybe, I can persuade you to tell me, in other ways.” He growled low, he reached down and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, lifted her up to her feet and pushed her against the stone wall, removed the gun from her mouth and replaced it with his lips, kissing her hard like he wanted to devour her whole. His teeth grazed against her bottom lip, breaking it open as the metallic taste of blood filled their impassioned kiss. She couldn’t even pretend to resist, she kissed him back with the same fervor as he put into the moment, clenching her fists in the binding behind her back wishing she could just put her hands on him. 

He managed to slide his gun back into its holster before using his newly freed hand to pull down her trousers tearing at the fabric of her undergarments to clear the way. He hoisted her up by her thighs before finally pulling open his own pants and unveiling his hardened cock that he then slid through her wet folds and into her entrance with not a care if she was ready or not. The stretch of his cock stung, the pain was so overwhelmingly good her mind went blank, the only thing that she could focus on was him, he was all over her, his harsh touch, his taste in her mouth, his scent filling her senses as he relentlessly used her cunt like it was crafted specifically for him. 

“Is this what it takes for you to tell me what I want to know? You just needed to get fucked like a cheap whore in a tavern basement? That’s what you needed to betray your master?” Percy growled in her ear as he snapped his hips into her again and again, his gloved hands held her thighs with a bruising force. She let out a high pitched whine and her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the steady approach of her climax, and she could tell by the inconsistent rhythm of his thrusts that he was also close to his own release. Just as she noticed this he started to slow his pace, purposefully teasing her at the edge, anything to get her to talk even at his own torment.  

“Mgh…Fuck, fine I’ll tell you what I know, just…don’t stop please.” She pleaded. a whisper of a smile crossed his face as he picked up the pace, burying his face in the crook of her neck, sucking gently on the soft skin there as he continued to push himself deep into her again and again. She finally felt the wave of pleasure crashing over her, her cunt clenching down around him as he groaned against her skin, his own release coating the inside of her. His hips started to still as he kept her pressed to the wall. Although her mind was scrambled she managed to say the name of the city that the Briarwoods had been en-route to as he helped her back down to the ground. He gently undid her bindings and helped her put her clothes back on, his entire demeanor changed from moments ago. 

“Percival de Rolo…” she muttered his name as she leaned back against the wall. She was absolutely spent, but she couldn’t help but be curious. “What do you plan to do now?”

“Now? I hope to catch up to the Briarwoods and finally take justice for what they did to my family....” He said calmly, he looked at her again, his eyes softened. “And please…Call me Percy.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist: : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[innocent-cat]

Hello darling! Is it okay to request a Vax x F!Reader x Percy (love triangle) one-shot? Where the reader is a human sorcereress from a noble family and somehow ends up with Vox Machina, only for Percy and Vax to develop feelings for her (or them, if you are more comfortable) a year later and become rivals and try to impress her.

I hope this isn't too weird! And it's fine if you don't want to do it! Have a wonderful day/night! Stay safe! 🤗💖

OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSS i actually love this idea so much

Sorceress and noble????? OF COURSE SHE HAS TIESSS WITH THE DE ROLOSSS AND THATS WHY SHE JOINSNSMNNSNS

It's awesome you clarified gender! i only do non-b pronouns when someone doesn't specify the gender. Otherwise I am happy to write for male or female!

sorry im getting excited

Vax'ildan x Reader x Percival

Warnings - idk probably gonna lean towards my bbg percy, not so obvious love triangle, swearing, im literally gonna be using f/n and shit, I'm literally rewatching to remember how to write them as I write this so good luck reading my poor memory of characters, I will use she/her, FUCK I HAD TO USE [name] IM SO SORRY, timeskip because oh my god this is so long,

"Vox Machina's (least) favorite Sorcerer.", Vax x Reader x Percy

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

[F/N] - Family Name

Lady Mystra - Goddess of magic/The weave

[Name] - I was too embarrassed to use y/n

Envonium - The name of the city you are a noble to (Sorry, couldn’t avoid it)

Twinned spell - A sorcery thing that allows a sorcerer to make one spell turn into two to attack two targets, never the same one twice in a row.

You come from a very rich cultured, religious, well mannered, prestigious and otherwise very dependent on magic kingdom. It only makes sense for such a huge part of the culture surrounding the beautiful city known as "The city of the weave", purely for its well known prestigious academies of magic, to have a generally magical culture. Many everyday tasks require magic, or it is commonly frowned upon to do some actions without it.

As a noble sorcerer yourself, your parents couldn't help themselves but give you the education you needed to become stronger as a magic wielder. They began your education at a young age, which proved a struggle for you to connect with companions and school partners who surrounded you. You were always disconnected from the reality of the lives of non-nobles. Other students seemed to feel the same way, and instead of adapting for you or explaining culture to you, they excluded you, making you an outcast in your own kingdom.

Lucky for you, your parents had many allies and peace treaties with those they were more powerful than or equal to, which happened to include the de Rolos. Once they learned of their children, one of which happened to be your age, Percy, they urged them to allow you, their only daughter, to meet Percival and his siblings.

Sadly, your exclusion in school made you awkward around him, and the two of you had trouble holding conversation for a very long time during your visit to Whitestone. It wasn't until your parents mentioned to Lady and Lord de Rolo the education they put you through so you could become a stronger sorcerer, that Percy warmed up to you and began to ramble about sorcery and wizardry, of which you knew much of both.

His curious personality led to conversations that lasted hours only asking the weave, which was tiring. When you began asking him questions back, he could not help himself but go on rants about science, history, and anything he remembered learning, which was a lot. The two of you had a rivaled education.

"That's... not really how the weave works. Where did you even hear that? That's absurd." You'd quip back at his stupid questions(At least, to you, they were stupid.), that you assumed were common knowledge.

"Well- in this book- it speaks of manipulating and changing the weave to cast spells." He was always defensive, quoting books directly and going as far as showing you the page.

With a sigh, "That book is decades old. You don't manipulate the weave, you pull it. Not even pull! It is a very delicate process." You knew it would be hard to explain, because you didn't quite understand it yourself yet.

Every summer, you would visit Whitestone until they suddenly stopped responding to letters, in which your parents cautiously chose to cut ties with the kingdom, without telling you. Whenever you'd ask about it, they'd hush you or change the topic. It confused you, but deep down, you knew they knew something about it.

Of course, this lets you down. You had begun to develop feelings for the boy who showed you kindness and bonded with you over something you were very prideful in. However, you eventually had to give up asking your parents questions about this, and continued your education in the weave.

Of course, your demanding parents practically begged you to practice your magic in real world experiences so you could be truly prepared. When you showed hesitation in doing such a thing, they only pushed harder- in fact, they packed your bags for you. They gave you a lot of gold for the road, a magic bag to hold everything needed, a change of clothes, food for a few days(Bread, cheese, water.), and a map. Not much, but they knew you were more than capable of making due.

Obviously, being a noble of the [F/N] family gave you a target on your back, but it wasn't much of a problem. It seems people underestimate you because you aren't armed with anything but a quarterstaff, but it takes no less than a chromatic orb or a fireball to kill them within seconds.

With background check over, you sit in a tavern.. :3

A group of loud, drunken, lowly mercenaries are shouting across the bar and asking for trouble with several strong looking city dwellers. You can tell they have no real experience in fighting other than bullying people for their money based on their muscles and lack of scars.

You try to ignore the banter, trying to get lost in a pint of beer as you sip on it, the woozy drunk feeling freeing you from an emotional state you get late into the night when left alone to think of your family, your people, and more importantly, all the books you had to leave behind to come here.

You're brought out of your thoughts as a table goes flying over your head, followed by a mug that hits your head, wetting you with the remaining alcoholic liquid left in the cup.

You quickly snap around, rubbing your now pounding head. You ready yourself to cast a spell strong enough to rival the sun against the dirty drunken party, but you realize it was one of the burly men who like to pretend to be tough who threw the table at you. You quickly change the direction of your twinned spell, making quick work of both of them as they fall stunned to the floor. The bar fight ensues as you knock the two of them out, an elf with dark and long hair defends you as another drunken man swings at you with a makeshift weapon. It seemed like it was a leg to a chair, but you couldn't tell in the blur of the quick paced fighting.

Once the quick turned fight ends, a female ranger announces to the barkeeper that 'Vox Machina' will pay back their tab in due time. You roll your eyes, and with a groan, you begrudgingly hand up a small bag of gold to cover their tab and look at the elven woman with an extremely annoyed face. She looks back, surprised you paid their tab, and even more so surprised you have the audacity to look at her with such a face.

A white haired, taller man looks at you with extreme shock. His face is familiar, but you know better than to stare, something he must have forgotten. Your face shifts into a less disgruntled face as the barkeeper speaks to you, thanking you for kindly paying the group's tab.

With the showy smile you were taught, you give him a soft and polite 'You're very welcome. Thank you for your hospitality.'

Your conversation with the barkeeper is cut short when the brunette, elven woman loudly asks you "And who the fuck are you?"

It sounded much more like actual curiosity than impoliteness, so you choose to not respond with the same tone, instead introducing yourself.

"[Name] [F/N]." (Guys im actually so sorry for having to do that, it feels taboo bc no one likes it) One side of you hoped they knew your family name for the sake of fear or authority, but the other hoped they didn't for the sake of having new beginnings.

Their gnome cleric seemed to be working your name out, familiarity reading on her face. You can tell it clicks when she looks up at you thinking of what to say, but she instead introduces herself and the rest of the party.

"Hi.. I'm Pike, this is Grog, the two similar looking elves are twins, Vex and Vax. The druid is Keyleth, and.. Scanlan is the guy pissing on the sign right now." As she speaks you can hear the encouraging smile on her face in her voice, her friendly introduction and personality persuading you to not judge or speak ill of Vox Machina.

You smile at all of them as she introduces them, except for Scanlan, your face rests in disgust watching the half nude gnome piss on a sign, then accidentally piss on a guard of the kingdom.

You turn expectantly to the one Pike seemingly forgot to introduce, the look of disgust still on your face. He seems startled you gave him the sour face, and you quickly fix it. You wave a beckoning motion at him to introduce himself.

"My name is Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III'' You finally realize who he is, and your face contorts to curiosity, but there's a small amount of disgust evident in it as well.

You have no clue what his family might have done to your’s for them to cut ties with his, but it couldn't have been good. Your mother always fought your father to keep as many allies as possible, and it was very rare for them to both agree on cutting ties.

Rolling your eyes at his long introduction, you cross your arms. The wisp of cold night wind swishes through your hair, as you feel it on your neck. You look up at him like scum under your foot, standing a distance of around 4 feet away from him.

"Do.. you guys know each other?" Pike asks you awkwardly, the rest of the party staring at the two of you awkwardly as well, noticing your repulsed face and Percy's face of surprise.

You scoff. "Know each other? No no.. we're only childhood best friends of neighboring kingdoms." Your voice seethes in sarcasm, your gaze not leaving Percy.

A new voice enters the awkward situation, the elven rogue, Vax, who protected you earlier.

"Yeah, you two really seem to be bonded to the core." His sarcasm matches your's, and you laugh softly, finally turning away from the silent Percy.

Walking towards him to converse, your face changes to a more smug than angry expression, your eyebrows still turned downward. The two of you banter for a moment before Scanlan awkwardly reveals a request for mercenaries.

"You guys wouldn't mind if I joined you, right? It's been a long while since I've been part of a party, and even longer since I’ve seen Percy." You ask Pike, who you assume is the leader of the party as she seems most responsible.

"It never hurts to have a few extra hands!" You can tell she's still dwelling on your interaction with Percy, as her tone is sensitive and her words practically dance around what just happened.

(Timeskip because theres literally a gap in writing in the show BECAUSE I DONT FUKCING KNOW WHAT TO DO HELP)

Waking up in the morning and climbing the stairs up to the ruler of Emon was a struggle, and you couldn't help but cast an ice spell to soothe the headache you currently had. Percy had tried to talk to you a few times, but you had shrugged him off at every opportunity. He opted to walk in the front of the group, conversing lightly with Vex and Keyleth.

It was nice talking to Vax so casually, as it wasn't an opportunity given to you often to speak informally. He gave you a few confused glances whenever you slipped up and started speaking formally, and you'd let out an awkward laugh and wave your hand in front of your face to try and get him to ignore it.

"So- what brings you to Emon?"

"My mother and father pushed me out of the kingg..domm.. I just want to practice my sorcery. I haven't really used it outside of learning it in practice." You trail off, when he gives you a weird look after mentioning your home.

"Oh. Really? That sounds.. wonderful. You seem a truly powerful sorcerer." He replies to you with an awkward smile on his face, trying to keep the conversation flowing with you as best as possible.

Once the party reaches the doors, Trinket, Vex's pet bear, stays on the outside of the doors with the guards. The party all make an awkward introduction, and you attempt to quip that you aren’t part of Vox Machina perse, but Scanlan quickly spoke over you in song, and went over you quite quickly, introducing you as “The sorcerer princess of the city of the weave!” And honestly? You had to admit it was better than anything you were expecting him to say about you, even if he had gotten some facts wrong.

A ‘punch in the gut’ feeling washed over you as you remember that you are a high status noble walking among a group of barfing, hungover mercenaries, and you look just as hungover as the rest of them. You quickly straighten yourself out and push around Vax with a soft ‘Sorry..’ and stand next to Percy, hoping to look better next to him, another noble. He seems surprised but ignores it, letting Scanlan bullshit you guys through the ‘meeting’ you had interrupted by walking in. Eventually, Emon’s ruler and a few advisers approve of your group saving the kingdom, in exchange for a very large box presumably full of gold coins.

You all quickly board the boat like aircraft, shuffling to stand near the railing, you find yourself standing next to Percy after not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on between Vex and Vax, opting to not seem rude or nosy. You of course, keep your space between you and him, and lean on the rail, debating on starting the conversation.

And you do.

“So.. what could the de Rolos have done to have angered the [F/N]s?” You ask, sarcastically, but genuinely curious.

Percy turns and looks at you with a face of bewilderment. “What did we do? What are you talking about?” Percy’s voice has anger lacing through it, and he wasn’t trying to hide it, but it’s not like he was trying to show it either.

“I mean, what did you guys do? Lord de Rolo stopped responding to my mother’s letters, and one day both mother and father refused to speak of Whitestone. It was like you guys did some horrible offense against lady Mystra, or, I don’t know, maybe betrayed one of our stronger alliances?” You dig deeper under his skin unknowingly, your face only showing confusion.

Percy’s stance changed, and he turned his body to face you. “My father stopped responding to your mother’s letters because he was murdered. They.. were all murdered. I ran from my kingdom, barely escaping my attackers, and I assumed you did your’s?”

Your mouth drops ever so slightly in shock, but you quickly close it. “I’m so sorry, Percy. I had no clue. I wish I could have convinced my parents to do something.. And no, I didn’t run from Evonium. My parents sent me away to become stronger.. I finally graduated from my academy.” Your eyes are glossy, as if hurt for Percy for what happened to his family. Your expression was soft, and pitiful. It almost completely contrasted the look you gave him at the bar, if it weren’t for that same pitiful look that knitted in your eyebrows as the wind blew against your face.

He turns away, unwilling to think about the look you had given him. He sighs. “It’s quite alright. I don’t blame you for assuming our families crossed one another. If I was in your position I would have done the same.”

You scoot closer to him, but leave room to breathe. You felt selfish for wanting to heal your relationship so fast, so you would let him choose when the wound was closed.

You felt eyes burning into the back of your head, but you tried ignoring it. Unaware it was Vax, you choose not to turn, and hope it was nothing. It seems he doesn’t want the wound to close at all, and he has a face that reads jealousy. He turns back to Vex, continuing their conversation and trying to shake off the feeling he had about you and Percy.

The ship shakes, and quickly levitates to the ground, a small wooden town ahead of you. The tents were torn, and burns were evident in the wood that kept the cloth up. It didn’t look like the work of a reckless wizard or sorcerer, and it seemed like it came haphazardly from above. You slowly walk down the aircraft beside Percy in silence. Scanlan makes some kind of sexual comment to the woman who brought us here, to which she ignores and promptly leaves without a word. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

You and Percy walk awkwardly behind everyone else, as Vax walks beside Keyleth, Pike next to Grog, and Vex next to Scanlan, which she was visibly upset about. However, she didn’t seem too upset as the two bantered sarcastically back and forth. The trail to the tents begins to go down hill, the path muddy and slippery. You try to hold onto Percy’s shoulder as you walk down, in which he drapes an arm around your waist in response to, trying to help support you, but it only brings you flashes of your childhood crush on him, and you fail to pay attention to the floor, despite having a staring contest with it.

You slip, falling backwards for only moments before Percy’s hand grips your hip, his arm already behind your back to support you, and pulls you back up. It was a pull with quick strength that was more of a reflex than an action, and it pulls you nearly face to face. You blush, and mutter a quick ‘Thanks, Percy.’, and he looks away with a quickly spoken, flustered, “Yeah! Yes. Of course.” as if he was trying to pull himself together. You pull away, but keep your hand on Percy’s shoulder until fully down the slope.

Vax turns around to look at the commotion, and he catches a glimpse of you blushing at Percy. He can’t help but scoff at it, and turns back around to talk to Keyleth, only really half talking to her, and her only really half talking to him.

[cillivnz]

gunplay [percy de rolo]

PAIRING — LORD PERCIVAL FREDRICKSTEIN VON MUSEL KLOSSOWSKI DE ROLO III x F!READER

WORD COUNT — 2502

WARNINGS — cursing, alcoholism (it’s vox machina, what do you expect), slayer’s take!reader, dark!percy, full-fledged jealousy, implied vex’ahlia x percy, implied reader x vax’ildan and reader x kashaw, fighing, percy points a gun (the gun) at reader, degrading themes, degrading name-calling, pet names, gun-play, mention of gun penetration, fingering, orgasm denial, breasts/nipple play, cum-eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, biting, possessiveness, sex/pillow talk.

A/N — just a little somethin’-somethin’ for my favourite noble.

you had no idea how you ended up like this.

except it came to you, bits and pieces, as you rubbed your temples. despite having done it this long, you could never get accustomed to the hangovers that came with partying with vox machina. you were bare, not a strip of cloth covering your skin. about to get up and leave, when you felt a calloused hand wrap around your arm, and a strong arm pulling you in place. “stay,” an all-too-familiar voice requested, expect raspier, an underlying tone you’ve never heard in it before.

your eyes widened at realisation; the same very moment, those arms pulled you back to bed, keeping you flush against a cold chest, the same arms wrapping around your waist. your ass was pressed against his crotch, and the realisation elicited a groan from him.

“percy!” the realisation dawned on you when you saw the glistened, new-and-improved pepperbox on the nightstand in front of you.

HERE’S HOW IT STARTED: you’ve been with vox machina for a while; not an original member, but you were tasked with assisting them on the pursuit of the vestiges of divergence. the slayer’s take became cold and indifferent towards you, hating your departure, that they claimed to be your betrayal, but the order came from none of other than osysa, so every mortal was to oblige.

from the minute they barged into the home of the take, you had eyes on the white haired assassin. sure, vax’ildan was cute, but he seemed to be too out of it from the beginning. you also soon found out the ginger ashari claimed “dibs”, so you proposed a friendship instead. percy avoided you during team split ups, ignored your presence and voice entirely during plan discussions, and volunteered to go with vex’ahlia instead, whenever you offered to team up with him.

you never let it get to you, though. perhaps, it was just hostility rather than dislike because you weren’t a part of vox machina, but then again, grog and scanlan called you one of them on numerous occasions.

HERE’S HOW IT HAPPENED: after grog’s gruesomely glorious victory against his uncle, the then thunderlord of the herd of storms, the lot of you have been chugging barrels after barrels of booze. you had a high endurance to alcohol, but befriending vox machina turned you into the alcoholic you didn’t know you could be.

right now, you were seated between keyleth and pike; keyleth blabbered about vax while pike gazed nonchalantly at something you couldn’t make out in the corner of the room; vax just wandered out on his own, but no concern grew. “where’s-” ah, there he is. percy was with vex, her arm on his shoulder, a flushed grin on his face, vex twirled her braid in her other hand while saying something that caused percy to rupture into laughter.

you scoffed, downing the rest of your drink. getting up, you made your way to the bar, which was right behind them. “great,” you rolled your eyes, walking towards them. with swift strides, you picked up an unattended drink from a random table on the way, letting the oddly fruity taste stream down your throat. the contrast from your favourite grimly bitter drink was revitalising.

by the time you reached them, vex’s sultry voice only cheered the word “darling!” while hearty laughs roared in the room. they didn’t notice you, not until you made them. bumping into him so hard, almost dislocating your shoulder, you made mercy drop the pepper box, eliciting a gasp from vex.

he looked at you, an eyebrow raised at your audacity, while his jaw, one you know could cut a diamond into two, clenched, once he realised it was you. “watch. where you’re going.” he spoke through gritted teeth. “fuck off, de rolo.” you spoke with disdain. “excuse me?” he questioned your audacity. you flipped him off, a crimson and black flame of magic dancing behind your hand. “it’s foolish to disrespect a noble, slayer.” again, with the constant reminder that you’re not one of them. “especially,” he paused, and in a flash, the dropped weapon was in his hands, “an armed one.” he finished, pointing the pepperbox right at your temple. “percy, darlin-” “don’t bother, vex’ahlia.” you interrupted her. “i’d like to see ‘percy darling’ try.” percy snarled when the nickname left your tongue, the sound of it turned his face pale with disgust. “now that you don’t have a demon in there, i do wonder what you do with it.” his eyes, narrowed to slits at your remark.

yeah, you knew about orthax. osysa gave you enough information about each and every member of vox machina before you departed. plus, keyleth is an oversharing drunk, so this fact was backed up.

“well, don’t leave me hanging, baby. are you gonna shoot me? because,” you slowly turned towards him, closer to him with every word you dragged flirtatiously, “i’d like to see you put that thing to other use.” you finished, letting the tip of the gun graze your lower lip, softly pulling the plump lip down.

AND THAT’S HOW YOU ENDED UP HERE; in lord percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo III’s room. he’s still obnoxiously dressed, barely parted with his cravat, while you’re stripped to the bone; either leg placed on his sides, spread wide for him. one of his gloved hands is snaked around your waist, firmly holding you in place, dismissing your squirming, while lo in behold in his hand, the pepperbox — tracing your jaw, the valley of your breasts, and finally resting against your lips. “open.” he ordered, and you hesitantly did. the tip of the gun snaking in your mouth. you groaned when the brutally cold metal came in contact with your tongue. “suck it.” you pulled out, “percy, i want your cock…” he ‘tsked’. “no. you asked for this, and this is what you’ll get.” his authoritative tone made your cunt ache.

“now open your fucking mouth.” he demanded, the dominance in his tone was mocking you, so degrading, as if percy were a god, sick of hearing your endless devotions. being his devotee, you had no choice but to comply to him, your god. complying, you began sucking on the metallic weapon, tongue lapping at it, wetting the barrel. “good girl, at least you’re capable of something.” he halfheartedly praised, pulling the gun out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ sound. you knew he was lying when he said that, he did too. on countless occasions had you saved their asses, single-handedly. tonight, however, was not the night to let you know; praise you in any way, unless you fuck your way for it.

“i am capable.” you stated, relieved that your voice hadn’t given out. “are you now?” he questioned, amused. his fingers trailed the skin of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. before you knew it, the grip on your tightened. you were left gasping for breath, only when your eyes clouded with panic did he let go and grabbed your mouth, forcing it open with a rough squeeze of your flushed cheeks. he shoved three of his fingers in, and you were quick to wrap your tongue around each of them, earning a rewarding groan from percival.

his digits began gagging you, pulling away, before shoving in deeper. his wet fingers then reached down to your weeping cunt; spreading the with his index and ring finger, percy showed in his middle one. “fucking drenching, just like i imagined.” “fuck, percy!” you moaned when he added the fingers spreading you, into your hole. “slow, please-” you gasped, your cry falling on deaf ears. “now, you say you’re capable,” he had an animalistic look in his eyes. you’d only heard of this craze, this ferocity dancing on percy’s face in stories told by vax, back when orthax was rooted in his soul. now that it’s in front of you, you can’t help but clench around his fingers, pummelling your cunt like a man (still) possessed. “yet,” he continued, “you’re so fucking tight — barely able to take in my fingers.” your half open eyes met his green ones, darkened with lust. “how on earth will you take in this, hm?” he used his other hand to press the cold, wet barrel of the pepperbox against your clit. you moaned so loud, you were sure the adjacent rooms were aware of your devilment.

he slowly began to move the weapon against your swollen clit. “don’t tell you weren’t planning on having it inside you. what’s the fun if you’re not gonna be fucked with it?” the relentless pace of his fingers, his dirty mouth — the smirk plastered on it, his gun on your clit. “but don’t worry, by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be stretched enough to take it,” he chuckled sinfully.

the darkest of your fantasies unravelling today, you were at the mercy of this assassin, and you loved every bittersweet bit of it. you knew your smartmouth wouldn’t last a second in his chambers, and he proved to be above you, oh so cruelly, the erotic feelings becoming unbearable.

he straightened his posture, easily moving you with him, as if you were featherlight in his embrace. his lips parted to let out his tongue, it circled your hard nipple, before engulfing it whole. his mouth was contrasting the icy feel of his fingers inside you and the metal that mocked your clit with every graze. it was blazing, as his mouth pulled and tugged on your nipple, before taking it between his teeth. you moaned a shriek. “fucking hell,” he pulled away, his tongue drawing wet circles around the bite. how he managed to stimulate every inch of you left you flabbergasted. “is this what you wanted?” percy looked at you through his lashes, “having my fingers inside this hot pussy, my mouth on these perfect fucking tits?” you moaned his name in response, he nodded with a smirk. “didn’t know nobles could talk dirty.” you managed to taunt between a moan. “not all, just me.” he clarified. “just like not every noble gets to fuck this pussy, more like anyone from now on.”

“who’s pussy is this?” he questioned, curling his fingers inside you; all three making your legs twitch. “yours, percival.” you whispered without thinking. “even when i’m flirting with vex, and you’re all alone pity drinking?” your ego was jabbed over, and over again. “yes, percival.” “aw,” he teased, “even when you were flirting with kash when we stopped by?” “yes, percival.” “ha-ha, and why’d you turn him down, baby?” “because… fuck, i’m gonna cum-” his movements halted. “answer me, my love.”

my love, what— “fuck, no, please let me finish!” you begged, the pressure of stopping coaxed tears out of your eyes. “you’re crying, my love? pathetic.” “i… i said no to him because i saw you and i… fuck, i wanted you from the moment i saw you, percy. i knew only you could do me right, and it fucking hurts when you don’t.” you were fucking relieved to surrender to your feelings and let them be known to the man eliciting them.

“kiss me,” he closed his eyes, swollen lips parted in wonder. “kiss me while i make you cum for me.” he patiently awaited your lips, ones he’s craved since the minute he set foot in vasselheim, and when you brought your plump lips to his, his movements resumed in your cunt, as did those of the pepperbox.

when your tongues danced to the fiery tune of the squelching sounds your cunt made, every fibre in your being raptured. this was unlike any feeling you’ve ever felt.

“oh, percy!” was all you chanted, while he cooed praises along the lines of ‘good girl’, ‘so good for me’, ‘that’s it, cream on fingers’. he placed you on the bed, the gun, beside you on the nightstand, and fervently discarded his clothes. shirtless, he climbed on, spreading your pussy once again, before diving in. “percy, i can’t- oh!” you moaned when his tongue wriggled inside you. he ate you out, you grabbed onto his ivory locs, using that beautiful face you’ve spent day and night fantasising about, to ride your high.

often, you had wondered what de rolo would be like in bed, obviously not anticipating that he and you would ever be sleeping together. even when you and the gang were camping in the open, he would make sure to sleep as farther away from you as the proximity of the fire would allow him to, so yeah, to say ‘surprised’ would be like reducing osysa and kamaljiori to mere kitties.

“fuck, percy, just like that.” you moaned when he began sucking on your clit. “god, you’re gonna make me cum again,” your voice was getting shriller, hand gripping on to the sheets for dear life. “good,” was percy’s response, and he lapped at every drop flowing out of your fucked out cunt, fingers pinching the clit to coax more out.

you saw white, yet again, when he had you coming undone on his tongue. your legs threatened to shut close, but percy didn’t falter, still determined to overstimulating you, as if that were your punishment for the bratty behaviour today.

the last thing you remember was him tucking your naked frame in the sheets before he spooned you, arms wrapped around your waist as if you were a celestial dream that would fade away at the brink of dawn.

NOW: you were being held on to for dear life, while you thought of a way to slither away from his embrace. deciding to try your luck, you just grabbed his, surprisingly muscular, arm and placed it on his side, ready to make a run for it — about to get up and leave, when you felt a calloused hand wrap around your arm, and a strong arm pulling you in place. “stay,” an all-too-familiar voice requested, expect raspier, an underlying tone you’ve never heard in it before. “we’ve done what we wanted to, let me leave.” you said without facing him.

“well, i’ve got a lot to apologise for, and so do you.” he spoke, nonchalantly.

“best way to do that is by submitting to me like you did last night.” he piqued your interest, “you— remember it all?” you asked, slowly turning toward him. “of course.” he chuckled, the sound made you rub your thighs against each other.

“kind of hard to forget the women you fancy getting her clit rubbed by your gun.” wait did he just— “yes, i do fucking fancy you, dummy. i’d tell you all about it if you could just sleep with me for five more minutes.” he said before he yanked you towards him; landing on his cold chest, you let him soak in your warmth, his large hand holding your shoulder, while yours placed on his heart, felt it beat, for you.

main masterlist. more from ‘the legend of vox machina’.

[annasinterests]

SOUND THE MF BELLS PEOPLE

MAC SHARED A FULL POST!!!!!!! A WHOLE ONE-SHOT!!!!!!!

mac I'm so fucking thrilled and proud of you for sharing!!!! I've left my annotations below for your entertainment 😘

it's very percy to not want to go out with the rest of vox to go drinking, especially since he's not big on ale (or alcohol in general with the exception of finer ones for good occasion/reason)

also spending alone time with him always sounds a1

my jaw still dropped reading the second paragraph even though I knew it was gonna be in there 😭 like bestie even sent me this whole ass snippet and we foamed at the mouth over it and i'm still over here freaking out reading it for like the 3rd or 4th time

him grtting his teeth as he fucks up into reader that has me in a fucking chokehold.

please just one chance i could treat you so-

i swear to GOD there ain't nothin better than having sex after not having it after so long. nobody argue with me on this cause i ain't LISTENING!

also percy adoring reader??? the soft touches and caresses??? somebody sedate me rn.

AFTERCARE!!!!!!!! AFTERCARE!!!!!!

putting on his shirt while it barely clings to reader's figure??? GET INTO IT YUH !

mac i'm in your walls i know that "postcoital state" was from our conversations LMFAOOOOOOOO

omg lil massages 🥺 that's so sweet and real tbh

"finally allowing himself to be fragile, to be soft," BECAUSE HE WASN'T FOR SO LONG RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH i just wanna care for him 😔

i love that you included a little bit of actual plot from the show (the briarwood arch was so good)

i love one (1) pretentious ass.

the scar accuracy 🤌🏽🤌🏽

oh my god they love each other so much stop it rn.

this was so fucking cute and endearing with just the right amount of sexy to it

like i already told you, you did a phenomenal job with getting his character right. i really hold percy close to my heart and really love when his character is done justice in writing (that's not to say i don't love others adaptations of his character tho!) and i think that's what you did in this piece.

fuckin 10000000000000000000000/10 bae. i love u❤️‍🔥

Fine Line

pairing: percival de rolo x f!reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: no use of y/n, no specific reader description, brief mention of torture, mentions of scars, smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up yall), creampie 😵‍💫, riding (save a horse), aftercare, praise, (let me know what if anything is missing!)

a/n: dedicated to my sweet @annasinterests because she gave me this new obsession and unavoidable brain rot of this pretty little (very tall) man.

but! this is my first time actually sharing my writing in full and im very nervous 😵‍💫 this has absolutely no purpose and no plot. just something kind of cute that i thought about while lying in bed with my partner :)

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛

It's been weeks since you and Percy have found yourself completely alone. After an especially stressful and exhausting expedition, you and Percy agreed to stay back while the others drink in celebration. After they leave, it isn't long until Percy's grabbing you and slamming you into the bed. It quickly turns into an all night affair. Not that you're complaining.

Eventually, after round three or four, you end the night on top. You're bouncing and rolling on top of him. He's stretching you open and you're chanting his name like a prayer. His pale fingers dig into your hips, gritting his teeth as you pull the last of his energy from his body. His warm touch travels up your body, grabbing a handful of your breasts with his large hands. A string of strangled moans and whimpers spill from your swollen lips as he holds onto you. You move faster, chasing his release. Your fingers trace at the jagged scar crossing down his chest. He doesn't pay attention to the touch. Instead, he groans as he spills the last of himself into you.

You collapse forward, his arms wrapping around you. He holds you against his broad frame. Your forehead is pressed against the crook of his neck as his fingers play with strands of you hair. You're both a little sweaty and sticky, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. His spend drips slowly down his shaft, making a small mess. Neither of you pay attention to it. "Thank you, my dear." He whispers into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I missed you," you say back, nuzzling into his neck as your arms lay limp at your sides.

He chuckled, his hands move to your shoulders, pushing you up so he can get a better look at your naked form on top of him. His left hand rests on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles. His right hand caresses your warm cheek, squeezing slightly as you smile at him lazily. "I missed this time with you, my darling." His voice was deep, filled with adoration.

You smile wider this time, your hands holding onto both of his wrists. Slowly, you drag your fingers down to his shoulders. You squeeze lightly, your thumbs stroke at his collarbones, tracing small scars and a recent scratch from your recent endeavor.

A mischievous smile is stuck on your lips as you lift your hips. His length falls out of you, falling back onto his happy trail. You grin, feeling more of his spend dripping from your cunt as you move yourself down and shift off the bed. He attempts to get up but you push him down.

     "I'll clean us up today." You whisper, kissing his forehead. He hums in response with a dazed smile.

     You clean yourself up, coming back with a wash cloth to clean him up. He lays back flat, still breathing heavily in his postcoital state. A small sigh of pleasure slips from his swollen lips, an arm lazily thrown over his eyes. You smile, cleaning him up before tossing the cloth in the hamper. You pick up his shirt, slipping it over your frame and buttoning the middle two buttons.

    Slowly, you slide back into his bed, hands working themselves up and down his torso. Your thumbs massage through the muscles on his stomach, leaving small, loving kisses at his collarbones. The arm draped over his eyes moves to your cheek to caress it softly. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes as his thumb grazes your cheekbone. Adoration and affection fill his gaze as he stares at you, straddling him once again.

He winces slightly as your thumb pushes down into a spot on his shoulder that was giving him trouble. You rub it out slowly, feeling the knot loosen as he grunts. "That feel good?" You ask softly, a small giggle filling the room.

He smiles back, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Yes, much better."

Your eyes flicker back up to him. You cant help but admire him in this state. Completely blissed out and deeply in love. Finally allowing himself to be fragile, to be soft. You've completely cracked his shell, spreading him open into the rawest form of himself. Getting to know every curve and line on his muscular body. It took a long time to get here with him. Spending endless days and countless nights by his side. With each passing hour he becomes more open and vulnerable to you. After Whitestone, he had promised to be more honest. Not just with the group, but with you.

You'd lay together with his head on your chest, your fingers brushing through his soft hair. He'd tell you every little detail. Whether it was about a specific dinner with his family or the torturous actions of Anna Ripley. The woman he had yet to escape from. His nightmares about the torture come and go, but he has you now. To hold him while he breaks, whisper to him that he's safe and that you'd never let anything happen to him. That the group would never let anything to happen to him. That he's loved and cherished, even when he's acting like a pretentious ass.

But now, it was different. He was vulnerable to you in a completely different manner. Not shielding you from the scars and stories that litter his pale skin. The jagged lines and the imperfections that you worship on nights like these. They are all open for you to kiss, to love, to hold. He was open to showing you his love in its rawest form. Open to admiring each other and tracing shapes and confessions onto each others skin.

So you sigh in contentment, moving to lay down next to him. Your head falls to his shoulders, your body pressed against him as he lays on his back. One of your legs lift on top of his hips as you feel him pull you closer. His arm is around you, lazily drawing circles on your side. Your warm hand rests on bare chest as you both lay in silence. Breathing in each others presence in the calming candlelight that illuminates his bedroom.

Your pointer finger lifts, touching the start of the long scar that runs in a diagonal curve across his chest. The soft pad of your fingers presses down as it drags down his pecs and over a protruding rib. A sigh leaves his lips, his free hand moving from his stomach to brush strands of your hair out of your face. "You seem to like that one." He says softly.

You stay silent for a moment, kissing where it starts at his shoulders. His hand falls to your shoulder while his other arm pulls you tighter. "You're so strong." You say lightly.

    "Not nearly as strong as you, my love." His voice is light and sweet. Coated with sleep.

      You just chuckle, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your free hand holds onto his side while you bend down to press soft, calculating kisses down the deep scar. A deep sigh of pleasure is heard as your kisses get longer and heavier.

“Don’t start again, I have no energy.” He grumbles playfully as you kiss down to the very edge of the scar.

“Sorry,” you says sheepishly, falling back into your spot next to him.

He brushes your hair off your face and gives you a tired smile. “Don’t worry. I like it.” His voice is softer than usual, filled with adoration.

Your head is back on his chest, focusing on the rise and fall with each breath. His heartbeat slows down as each minute passes. “‘M tired,” you say as your cheek is pressed against his chest.

He pulls you closer, brushing your hair back and resting that hand on your shoulder. A small kiss is pressed on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep,” he says. He presses a long kiss in the same spot before whispering your name. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”