ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝓙.𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 : Early nights in white sheets.
♡. 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : You and Jason have been together for a few months, but he's not very good in bed. He does a lot of research to give you a mind blowing time!
Jason Grace had always been the type to overthink everything, from sword fights to the way he tied his sneakers. It wasn't that he lacked confidence— hell, he'd faced down monsters without flinching— but when it came to you, things got oh! so messy in his head.
You'd been together for months now, a whirlwind of kisses and late-night talks, but sex? That was still new territory. Jason was a virgin before you; his life was packed with quests and duties to explore much else.
And you? You were the one who'd gently pulled him into it, showing him the ropes— or rather, the sheets— on those rare nights when the world let him take a breathe.
It started simple.
The first time, in the dim glow of his cabin, you'd straddled him, guiding his hands to your hips as you sank down onto his cock. Jason's eyes had widened, his breath hitching at the feeling of your pretty cunt clenching.
He was thick— impressively so, the kind of girth that stretched you in ways that made your toes curl— but he didn't know what to do with it !
He laid there, mostly passive, letting you set the pace while he gripped the bedframe like it was his lifeline. You rode him slow, feeling him throb inside you, but it was all instinct for him, no rhythm and definitely no drive.
You'd come, sure, grinding against him until the pressure built and shattered, but Jason? He finished pathetically quick, spilling outside with a groan that sounded half-apologetic. Afterward, he'd hold you close, whispering how amazing you felt, but you could see the frustration in his eyes. He wanted to be better for you.
That became the pattern.
Jason underneath, you on top, controlling the ride. He'd thrust up sometimes, tentative, his hands roaming your breasts or ass, but it was always you leading.
You didn't mind— his eagerness was endearing, and that thick dick of his filled you up just right. He even thrusted up into you with all the enthusiasm of a guy desperate to please from time to time, but it was pretty much always the same: quick, predictable, leaving you satisfied but not exactly screaming. You'd come, no doubt, but he knew it wasn't fireworks for you.
Little did you know, Jason was already plotting his redemption arc !
Starting with asking Leo for a laptop without dying of embarrassment in the attempt... Anyways! Once he got it, he immediately started investigating.
It was as innocent as it could be.
One night, after you'd left his cabin with a kiss, Jason couldn't shake the frustration gnawing at him. He was built like a god— tall, broad-shouldered, with that chiseled jaw and a body honed from years of discipline in the roman legion— but in bed, he felt like a rookie fumbling the ball.
So, alone in the dim glow of his new laptop, he dove in. Porn first, the kind with titles promising "mind-blowing technique" and close-up shots of couples who looked like they were inventing new laws of physics. Then articles, forums, even a dog-eared book on anatomy he'd swiped from a roadside library box because he knew that pornography was not a reliable source for pleasing a woman..
He watched how guys used their mouths, their hands, the way they'd build tension instead of rushing to the end. Jason took notes while his cock hardened because he imagined practicing on you. He wanted to erase that look of polite pleasure from your face and replace it with something raw, something that made you cry of pleasure.
Now, here you were again, grinning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt.
"Missed you," you say, your voice so soft. How could Jason deny you anything?
Jason swallowed. "Mh, yeah? We saw eachother at breakfast."
He adjusted his glasses, but you were already closing the distance, your hand brushing his arm.
"But I can miss my boyfriend," your hands slided under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his abs.
And like that the clothes disappeared after some kisses.
You pushed him down gently, like always, straddling his hips. Jason's cock was already hard, thick and straining against your thigh, a detail he'd always been shy about, never knowing how to wield it beyond the basics.
You guided him inside you, sinking down slowly, and he groaned, hands gripping your waist. It was familiar: you riding him, setting the pace, your pussy clenching around his length as you ground against him. He thrusted up awkwardly at first, overthinking the angle, but the heat built anyway, your moans filling the room.
"Ah.." you breathed, rolling your hips, chasing that edge he could never quite push you over.
Yet tonight, something shifted. As you leaned forward, breasts brushing his chest, Jason's hands tightened—not in surrender, but in resolve.
He'd watched those videos, read the guides: how to make it about her pleasure first! His mind usually raced with the pressure to perform, but this time, it fueled him.
With a sudden surge, he flipped you both, his weight pinning you to the mattress. You gasped, surprised, your legs parting instinctively as he settled between them.
"Jason? What—"
He didn't answer right away, his face flushed, those blue eyes dark with determination. Instead, he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone, then lower, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue.
You arched, expecting him to slide back inside, but he kept going, lips trailing over your stomach, hands spreading your thighs wide.
His breath ghosted over your pussy, already slick from riding him, and your breath hitched. He'd never done this—never even hinted at it. Oral? That was unknown territory for him, something he'd jerked off to in secret, imagining your taste but too embarrassed to ask.
"Jason, you don't have to—" But his mouth was there before you could finish, tongue flicking tentatively against your clit.
It was clumsy at first, a hesitant lap, but then he remembered the videos: circles, pressure, the flat of the tongue. He pressed in, licking a broad stripe up your folds, tasting you fully for the first time. You moaned, loud and unrestrained, your fingers threading into his blond hair.
Because, holy shit, he had never done this before. Not once in all your relationship had he gone down on you; it was always hands or his cock, quick and to the point. But now? He was doing it, actually eating you out, his inexperience showing in the way he paused to adjust, but God, it felt good.
He grew bolder, sucking your clit between his lips, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. One hand braced on your thigh, the other slid up, two fingers teasing your entrance before pushing inside and curl them, seeking that spot he'd read about, the one that made women squirm.
You bucked against his face, the dual sensation— his tongue swirling, fingers pumping— sending sparks up your spine.
"Fuck, Jason," you talked between moans, your voice breaking. "Where did you learn this?"
It was messy— his chin glistened with your arousal, his breaths coming in hot puffs against your inner thigh and his cheeks red.
"I- I read about it. Online. In those... you know." He looked up at you, vulnerable but earnest, fingers still buried deep, stroking slowly. "Am I doing it right? Does it feel good?"
You could barely form words, pleasure coiling tight in your core. Instead of answering, you grabbed the back of his head, guiding him back down firmly.
"Keep going. Don't stop." Your voice was a command wrapped in a plea, and he obeyed, diving in with renewed focus.
His tongue worked faster now, alternating flicks and sucks, while his fingers thrusted deeper, hitting that ridge inside you with each curl. The pressure was building, relentless, with your hips grinding against his mouth as he devoured you.
You'd always taken the lead before, riding him to your satisfaction, but this— him taking care of you, learning on the fly— was intoxicating. His thick fingers stretched you sososoo damn right, slick with your arousal, and when he added a third, scissoring gently, you cried out, the fullness pushing you closer.
It built so fast, that orgasm, hotter and more intense than anything Jason had given you before. Your body tensed, toes curling into the sheets, and you shattered, whimpering his name as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
Your pussy clenched around his fingers, pulsing, and he didn't let up, licking you through it until you were shaking, oversensitive and boneless.
When he finally lifted his head, lips swollen and shiny, he looked triumphant. "Was that okay?"
You pulled him up, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.
"More than okay. That was fucking incredible."
Your hand wrapped around his cock, still rock-hard and throbbing, the thick length pulsing in your grip. Precum beaded at the tip, and you stroked slowly, intending to reward him— climb on top again and let him feel you milk him dry. But Jason shook his head, a small smile breaking through his flush.
"Not this time." He caught your wrist, gently but firm, and pushed you back down, his body covering yours once more.
You laughed, breathless, as he positioned himself. "Bossy now?"
He didn't respond with words, just nudged the flushed, angry tip of his cock against your entrance, still sensitive from your climax.
He'd never known how to use his size before— thrusting too shallow or erratic, leaving you wanting. But right now, guided by all that secret studying, he pushed in slow and deep, inch by thick inch, filling you completely.
You moaned, legs wrapping around his waist, the stretch delicious after his fingers.
He started moving, hips rolling with purpose, not the hesitant pumps from your other encounters. Each thrust kissed your cervix with that swollen tip, a deep, insistent pressure.
"God, you're so tight," he muttered, voice rough, with his forehead pressed to yours. He adjusted his angle, pulling back almost out before slamming in, the head of his dick dragging right over your g-spot.
You gasped, nails digging into his back, the spot-on hit sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He'd read about it, watched the diagrams— how to angle for the maximum pleasure— and fuck, it worked. Every stroke targeted it, building that pressure again, faster than before.
Jason's rhythm steadied, his weight pinning you a bit as his hands braced on either side of your head. Sweat slicked his skin, his glasses fogging slightly as he fucked into you, harder now, the bed creaking under the force.
Your pussy gripped him like a vice, wet and hot, and he groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Feels so good— you feel so good."
He was still overthinking a little—you could see it in the way his brows furrowed—but it only made him more attentive, hips snapping with precision, chasing your reactions.
When you clenched around him, he hit that spot again, relentless, the thick base of his cock grinding against your clit with each hilt-deep thrust. You were lost in it, your body arching to meet him, the coil tightening impossibly fast.
"Jason— right there, don't stop."
He didn't, couldn't, pounding into you with a focus that bordered on fierce, his cock stretching and filling every inch. The room filled with the slap of skin and your shared breaths ragged.
He reached down, thumb finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles like he'd practiced in his mind from those videos. It was too much—the deep kisses to your cervix, the G-spot hammering, the added friction—and you shattered, your orgasm crashing in waves, pussy spasming around his thick length.
He followed seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, tip pressed flush against your depths as he came. Hot spurts filled you, a creamy rush that leaked out around him.
That was also new; the coming inside thing, but you were so fucke out and happy you didn't even care.
Jason collapsed half on you, both of you slick and spent, his cock twitching inside as the aftershocks rippled through.
For a moment, you just lay there, catching your breath, his head on your chest. Then he lifted up, pushing his glasses back into place with a sheepish grin.
"I... I wanted to get it right this time."
"You did more than right. That was heaven." You traced a finger along his jaw, smiling.
No more frustration or overthinking shadows. Jason Grace, the guy who'd never touched a girl before you, had leveled up. And damn if it didn't make you crave the next sex session already.
But as you drifted, sated and warm, Jason murmured against your skin, "Think I need more practice?"
You smirked, nipping his ear. "Only if you're volunteering." He laughed, the sound light, and for the first time, he didn't doubt the answer.
Girl you’re probably one of my favourite writers in here(idk what to call it, fanfic writer? Idk). Like genuinely I love your writing it’s so amazing 🥹
Do you ever think about the fact that nectar is supposed to taste like home and Jason's tasted like sawdust. Do you ever think about the fact that Jason got SPQR burnt into his arm when he was four. Do you ever think about the fact that Jason so willingly accepted Mellie and Hedge yelling at him for something that wasnt even his fault. Do you ever think about the fact that Jason was trying to treat all the gods with equality even the one that nearly killed him and Percy. Do you ever think about the fact that maybe Jason isn't boring and he just dealt with his truama differently by being more quiet and reserved. Do you ever think about the fact that despite saying he wants to be considered part of both camps everyone in the fandom depicts him in a Camp Jupiter shirt and never a CHB shirt so he will always truly be a roman. Do you ever think about the fact that Jason was never really close with any of the seven because none of them really knew about all of his unresolved issues. Do you ever think about that. Do you ever think about Jason Grace.
I said I was done with my Jason Grace bullshit but god is it unfair that he didn't get to the main character of his series. THE SHIP IS LITERALLY CALLED THE ARGO II. NAMED AFTER THE SHIP THAT THE ORIGINAL JASON CAPTAINED. AND YET YOU'VE GIVING ME A SIDE CHARACTER WITH AN AFFINITY FOR BRICKS
