Written In Blood

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.