percy wasn’t always subtle when it came to his jealousy.
in fact, you were sure that by now, the entire camp new how jealous he could get even when he thought he was hiding it.
so when he saw you showing around a new camper this morning, naturally, he was unhappy.
why did that boy get all of your time and attention today? you left his bed early this morning for this? obviously for other camp duties, but when they involve another boy? well fuck that.
“want that other boy inside of you like this?”
you shake your head with a cry, stifling your whines within the cotton pillowcase as percy obliterates your insides.
it didn’t take long after making up an excuse and dragging you away from the new camper that percy took you back to cabin three and was shoving his cock into you.
but you’re not complaining in the least.
“use your words.”
you scavenge your brain for the correct words. right now, though, your brain feels like utter mush. you can only focus on the sensation of how your gummy walls are so tight around him, how your legs tremble, surely going to leave you utterly sore in the morning.
“n-no. no, I— just you…”
“atta girl,” percy praises, plunging deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot. it elicits the sweetest of moans from you. “I’m the only one who gets to have you like this.”
you clutch the sheets tightly, nearly breaking your nails in the process. but, fuck, it’ll so be worth it! the sheets are ought to be ruined as well. neither of you had bothered to protect yourselves.
you really couldn’t care any less right now, though.
“mphmmm, percy— gods, I—” you’re words cut off by a whine, feeling percy’s fingers rest at the bulge in your belly. “‘m gonna cum…”
“yeah?” he pushes the heel of his hand down on your stomach.
you nod, closing your eyes tight as the coiling feeling bubbles within you. “please!”
“go ahead, sweet girl, cum for me.” he pushes the heel of his hand down on your stomach. gods, he is fucking unreal. thank his godly genetics.
it doesn’t take long after his permission for you to comply, your juices coating and soaking his cock. and the mere sight of your pleasured self is enough to inflict percy’s own climax. he comes directly inside of you, filling you of his seed.
and how extraordinary it feels— how raw and intimate it all is. you’ll have him come inside of you over and over again if it means you’ll feel this good.
or maybe all you really need to do is make him jealous!
the fluorescent lights of the medbay hummed softly, casting a stark glow over the otherwise sterile room. logan paced back and forth outside the door, his boots scuffing against the polished floor. he hated this part - the waiting. the not knowing. his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, tension coiled in his shoulders like a spring wound too tight.
“she’s gonna be fine, logan,” jean’s voice came from behind him, calm and reassuring. “you know she’s tough.”
he grunted in response, not trusting himself to say anything else. tough or not, you’d gotten hurt. surgery had been necessary after a mission gone sideways, and now you were in there, under anesthesia, while he was stuck out here feeling useless.
when hank finally poked his head out of the medbay, logan stopped mid-stride. “she okay?”
“she’s fine. the procedure went well, but she’s still coming off the anesthesia,” hank said, smiling a little. “you can see her if you want. just don’t expect much sense out of her for a bit.”
logan nodded and pushed past him, his boots heavier than usual as he walked inside. his eyes landed on you immediately. you were sitting up slightly, looking drowsy but very much alive. relief washed over him like a tidal wave, but he masked it with a gruff expression as he crossed his arms.
“what the hell were you thinking out there?” he started, voice low and gravelly. “you can’t just throw yourself into danger like that - ”
“pspspsps,” you interrupted, your eyes zeroing in on him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the world. “kitty. come here, kitty.”
logan froze mid-lecture, his brows furrowing. “what?”
you reached out a wobbly hand toward his head, fingers making the unmistakable beckoning motion people used for cats. “kitty! your hair’s so… fluffy. come here, let me pet you.”
for a moment, he just stared at you, utterly baffled. you were high as a kite, and he had no idea how to handle it. “you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, but he didn’t move away when your hand made contact with his hair.
“so soft,” you mumbled, running your fingers through it with clumsy determination. “why didn’t you tell me you’re secretly a big ol’ kitty?”
he huffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “i ain’t a cat, darlin’.”
“mhm,” you said, clearly not believing him. your fingers trailed to his sideburns, and you giggled. “the whiskers. so majestic.”
logan’s patience was wearing thin, but not in the usual way. he was more amused than he wanted to admit, but he didn’t want to encourage you. “alright, that’s enough,” he said, gently taking your hand and lowering it back to your lap. “you’re supposed to be resting.”
“you’re supposed to be snuggly,” you countered, blinking up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. “c’mon, kitty. gimme a hug.”
he sighed deeply, muttering something about anesthesia making people loopy, but he leaned in slightly to placate you. you threw your arms around his neck, squeezing as much as your post-surgery state allowed.
“you smell nice,” you murmured into his shoulder. “like… woodsy. and safe. you’re so grumpy all the time, but you’re really sweet. my big, grumpy kitty.”
the words hit him harder than he expected, and he felt his throat tighten. he wasn’t used to being called sweet. most people saw the claws, the temper, the rough exterior. but here you were, high as hell and still managing to say the one thing that could disarm him completely.
he cleared his throat, patting your back awkwardly. “yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. gotta keep up my reputation.”
you pulled back slightly, your gaze dreamy but sincere. “i won’t tell. promise.” then you tapped your lips with a finger, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “but only if you purr for me, kitty.”
logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “darlin’, you’re gonna regret all this when you’re sober.”
“nope,” you said, popping the “p.” “i’ll never regret you, logan.”
his chest tightened again, and he looked away, trying to hide the way your words affected him. “you’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was no heat behind it.
“and you’re my favorite kitty,” you replied, your voice softening as your eyelids began to droop. “such a pretty kitty…”
logan stayed by your side as you drifted off, your breathing evening out. he shook his head, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
“damn troublemaker,” he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face.
and if he stayed a little longer than necessary, making sure you were comfortable and safe, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.
