#percygrog

[littlebunnyman]

Marked and claimed

He didn’t think Grog would notice he’d been gone all night, much less that he’d care that he spent the night with someone else.

---

Grog cares. Very much.

features jealousy, possessivenes, and very little plot

Read on Ao3

Beginning under the cut

“What is this?” Grog growls into his ear and digs his thumb into the bruise low on his neck.

Percy shivers, can’t help but tilt his head. But he doesn’t answer. Grog is crowding him against the wall, his hand heavy on the back of his neck. Percy doesn’t fight it. He is angry. Good. Percy is too.

Grog’s other hand grabs his hip, fingers pressing into the faint bruises there. Percy bites his lip, nearly moans at the dull ache. Heat coils low in his stomach. It had felt so good last night to hold someone’s attention like this again, to feel desired, to be taken apart.

He didn’t think Grog would notice he’d been gone all night, much less that he’d care that he spent the night with someone else.

Percy doesn’t even know how he knew- he couldn’t have been close enough to see the bruise on his neck, mostly hidden by his collar, when they ran into each other in the hallway leading up to Percy’s room. But something must have ticked him off because he had stormed after Percy, had pushed him into his room and slammed him against the wall.

“Someone seems to have forgotten his place.” Grog squeezes his fingers into his skin as if he knows about the bruises around his hips and for a short, glorious moment the pain flares up. He gasps, his mouth falling open. Grog presses his hips against him, lets him feel how hard he already is. “There’s my good little whore.”

Percy squirms in his grip and Grog’s hands tighten in response. “No,” he says. There is something thrilling about Grog getting territorial, how he thinks he owns Percy. And he hates it. Hates how much he wants it, how he wants Grog to mean it. Hates how much he hates that Grog didn’t pay attention to him those last several weeks. He bares his teeth. “I’m not your whore.”

A long pause. “No?” Grog’s voice is a deep rumble. Dangerous. Another shiver runs down his spine. He can’t remember the last time he denied Grog. It feels good. “And why do you think that?”

He laughs, sharp and ugly. He looks over his shoulder and meets Grog’s firm gaze. Grog doesn’t care for his answer. He doesn’t think Percy can say anything that matters because to him it is clear that Percy belongs to him. And Percy had thought he had been a fling Grog lost interest in. The realization he wasn’t just a convenient alternative to a brothel doesn’t appease him. If Grog cared so much, why did he ignore him for weeks? His anger flares up, makes him reckless. Grog doesn’t know him if he thinks Percy will obediently wait until Grog remembers he exists. He sneers. “No whore comes for free and I don’t remember you ever paying me.”

Continue on Ao3

[sparxwrites]

For your consideration: Percy being taken by Grog whilst Scanlan touches him and praises him

“Oh, that’s very nice,” says Scanlan, mildly, as though he weren’t very obviously turned on by the sight of Percy, on his elbows and knees, gasping and panting for breath as Grog slowly, slowly pushes into him. “That’s very nice. Who’d have thought Percival of all people would be so good at this?”

“Tight,” grunts Grog, nudging his hips forward another inch, and Scanlan laughs.

“Yeah,” he says, reaching down to pet at Percy’s hair, tug on it until Percy’s face tilts up towards him. There’s a hazy look in those pale blue eyes that makes Scanlan’s gut twist in delightful ways, though there’s still a flicker of self-awareness in them that he needs to do something about. “Yeah, I bet he is.”

Percy grunts, thighs shaking, arms trembling badly enough it looks likely he’s going to end up face-down ass-up and limp by the time Grog gets his entire cock in. “I- am still here, you know,” he manages irritably, which would be more convincing if he weren’t already panting through his nose to try and keep from losing his goddamn mind with the weight and stretch of the cock inside him.

“If you’re still talking, then Grog’s evidently not doing his job well enough,” replies Scanlan smartly, delighted by the way Percy’s eyes widen. “Grog? He’s obviously fine, so you can go faster. Don’t hold back, he’s a big boy, apparently, he can take it.”

Percy’s lips part to say something - but Scanlan pushes three fingers between them, pinning his tongue to the floor of his mouth. And then Grog starts pushing in faster, inexorable, and suddenly Percy loses the ability to speak even without fingers in his mouth.

It’s nice to watch the last flickers of too-fast thought fade from Percy’s eyes, as Grog slides fully inside him to the root. Percy had asked for something to take him out of his own head, after all - and between fingers to suck on and drool around, a goliath cock balls-deep in his ass, and the way his own cock is hard and leaking, Scanlan suspects they’re doing a pretty good job of fulfilling that request.

“Nothing clever to say now?” teases Scanlan, slipping his spit-slick fingers out from Percy’s lips as the human manages a low, senseless groan. His arms have entirely given out now, and his legs don’t look far behind, leaving him crumpled with his face and shoulders against the ground and essentially held up by Grog’s cock. “That’s good, that’s good. It’s a good look on you, you know, all quiet and full of cock like this. Very good look.” 

He pets Percy’s stomach, rubbing a small hand firmly over the line of Grog’s cock bulging huge and visible even through the slight softness of the human’s belly, and relishes the way both Grog and Percy groan at the feeling.

“Oh, shit.” Grog’s eyelids flutter, and he tugs out an inch only to rock back in, the expression on his face almost reverent. “Oh, shit, do that again, that’s- aww, fuck, that’s real nice, he feels real good.”

“Do feel free to start fucking him, whenever you feel like it. That is what he asked for, after all, and it’d be rude to deprive him when he’s been so good, taking all of your cock like that,” says Scanlan, smug and very self-satisfied, relishing the way Grog’s hips twitch when he presses his hand down over the head of the goliath’s cock, the way the movement makes Percy gurgle out a low, shocked noise of pleasure. “And as for you you, Percival... you just lay there and enjoy yourself, hmm? There’s a good man. I’ll make sure you get exactly what you need...”

[littlebunnyman]

Right behind you

Percy is horny. His bodyguard helps.

featuring bodyguard Grog, needy Percy, and knots

Read on Ao3

[littlebunnyman]

Beware of darkness

After the fight, after everything, when they're back in Whitestone, Percy makes his way to Grog's room.

Sex happens. Again.

An AU of the final episode of Campaign 1.

Read on Ao3

Beginning under the cut

“I completely understand if you want to stay with Cassandra for the night. Would you mind not being very comfortable, though? I was thinking of camping in the woods.”

Cassandra lies still under the blankets, her face bruised. She is breathing deeply. The healers assured him she isn’t in pain, that she will make a full recovery. He doesn’t look away from her face as he answers Vex. “I think- I think I’d rather stay here. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Of course, yeah.”

“Perhaps… Keyleth could use a friend right now. She shouldn’t be alone.”

“That’s a good point, yeah.”

He drags his eyes to Vex. She looks so small. Guilt knots in his stomach. She lost... He said... He should go with her, keep her company. He can’t bring himself to say the words.

“See you tomorrow?”

She nods, eyes averted. “See you tomorrow.”

She leaves and he listens to her fading footsteps. Waits another minute.

He grabs a guard walking past the door. “Please send for the Grand Poobah. He is needed in his room.”

“Right away, Sir.” The guard bows and hurries off.

He looks back at Cassandra. Safe. Alive.

He leaves.

Grog isn’t in his room when Percy arrives. It might take the guard a while to find him, depending where Grog wandered off to. He looks around the room, takes in all of Grog’s belongings. Sits on the bed and lets it settle that Grog made his home here. That he lives here. That Percy gets to keep him. And then the door opens and Grog ducks into the room. He fills out the frame, expression unreadable, and for the first time that day Percy takes a deep breath, feels his lungs expand with air.

“Hi.”

Grog nods and the door falls shut behind him as he walks up to the bed, locking out the world. He stops in front of Percy, caresses his cheek, and Percy closes his eyes.

(“Freddie. Freddie.” But it hadn’t been about him, had it? Stupid.)

Grog’s hand slides to the back of his head, grabs his hair, gives a sharp tug. Percy’s breath hitches.

“Didn’t expect you here.”

Continue on Ao3

[littlebunnyman]

⛅, 💧, 🌪️ (can be different wips 💞)

3 emojis, 3 wips!

⛅Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP:

“Just hire someone. Must be cheaper than all the drinks you must have bought.”

He glares at Morgana. “I am perfectly able to get some alpha to buy me a drink, thank you very much.”

“Then why are you still moping around?”

“Have you seen the alphas around here? Most of them I wouldn’t even give a second glance.” He hides his face in his hands with a groan. “Looking more and more like a viable option, though.”

“Absolutely not,” Morgana says.

“They really don’t look like your type,” Freya agrees. “I think you should think about a permanent hook-up partner as often as you want to have sex.”

“You mean how often he needs sex. Look at how much he’s whining just because he didn’t get dick for a couple weeks.”

(mordredpercy club au! I should get back to this halkfdsl)

💧Share something romantic/hot from your WIP, or just something sweet if it's gen:

And then Zanror begins to move. He and Grog find an easy rhythm, moving Percy with their thrusts. How often must they have shared someone before that they can adjust to the other so easily? He imagines rows of men and women, eagerly spreading their legs for them, pleasuring them. He moans, Zanror buried deep in his throat, and clenches around Grog’s cock as he pulls out. He preens when they both swear.

“Are you sure he isn’t a whore?” Zanror asks.

Grog huffs and spanks Percy’s ass. “He’s my pretty little whore.”

(percygrog arranged marriage au with bonus Zanror!)

🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Unexpected Heat, Angst, Pre-Relationship, Omega Jamie Tartt, Alpha Roy Kent

(royjamie omegaverse!!!)

Thank you, I had a fun time digging through some of my neglected wips 💖💖💖

from this ask game

[littlebunnyman]

Prettiest little wife

Lord and Lady Briarwood have special plans for Percy after they take over Whitestone.

He enjoys himself more than he expected.

featuring an arranged marriage, a wedding dress, and Grog sharing Percy

Read on Ao3

Beginning under the cut

Percy had always thought- well, he’d never spent much time thinking about marrying anybody, but if he had, he would have thought it would be because he loved that person. Not this charade.

Professor Anders pats his arm and, with the veil covering his face, he allows himself to glare.

“I remember my own wedding as if it was yesterday,” Delilah Briarwood had told him just an hour ago. “I had been so happy... To know Sylas would be mine and I would be his.” She’d sighed wistfully. “I couldn’t stop smiling. And now look at your sour face- you are meant to be looking forward to this wonderful occasion. Be merry. Have fun.”

“I did not choose to marry.”

She had caressed his face and grabbed his chin when he tried to turn away. “But think of your sister. Cassandra has been so excited for today, she could not stop talking about it. She misses you. Nothing would please her more than to see you again. Especially if it’s to celebrate your wedding.”

The message had been clear. She wanted a happy facade, a wedding reception without any incidents, and she expected him to play his part. And if he didn’t, if he dared not look excited at any point, Cassandra would pay for it.

Professor Anders leads him past rows filled with humans on one side, and goliaths on the other. He feels their stares, their whispers amplified by the high ceiling of the temple. He grits his teeth and focuses on the priest waiting at the end of the aisle. And his husband-to-be.

They didn’t get to meet before. He is part of the Herd the Briarwoods want to work with but he doesn’t know if he is aware of Percy’s status in Whitestone. Percy doesn’t even know his name. But he is big and when Professor Anders hands him over, the goliath’s hand completely wraps around his.

“Hi,” his future husband says and Percy ducks his head demurely, if only to stop looking at the broad, naked chest in front of him.

He blinks away the sudden tears in his eyes. He knew the Briarwoods meant to humiliate him by forcing him to wear a white dress, the many layers of its skirt sitting heavy on his hips, to show everyone what a “pretty bride” he made. But he hadn’t expected this burning shame in the face of the goliath he would promise himself to. That his first impression of Percy would be this dolled up version, the picture perfect bride eagerly looking forward to his new life at his husband’s side.

Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. It’s Cassandra, sitting in the front row next to Sylas Briarwood, alive and looking healthy. She’s smiling and subtly waves again. Lord Briarwood takes her hand between his and her smile wobbles.

This is who he is doing it for. Let them humiliate him, let them marry him off to some barbarian. It’s all worth it as long as they leave Cassandra alone.

The priest drones on and on and Percy only tunes in again as he pronounces them married- him and Grog. Grog Strongjaw. His husband. Was his last name Strongjaw too, now?

Grog grabs his veil and Percy forces his lips into a smile. Happy. He needs to be happy.

The veil lifts.

Grog blinks.

Percy’s stomach sinks.

Grog hadn’t known. He’d thought he was marrying a woman. He’d thought Percy was a woman.

He holds on to his smile even as his face burns. Do something. Please.

Continue on Ao3