no, hes not a masochist, he just loves seeing you annoyed and with that little furrow in your brow. this only goes for little things, of course, which is the only reason he pays absolutely no attention to what you're saying.
it's not on purpose, you're just so cute and your hands are gesturing in irritation, and he's just so in love.
you're frowning, "you're unbelievable! haven't i told you so many times not to–"
blah, blah, blah.. proper name, place name, backstory stuff.....
all that's on his mind is: "this is all MINE. i get to have this every day and night." "i'd get yelled at for the rest of our lives if it's you."
he can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, arguing like a married couple— or rather, you yelling at him while he sits there with a dopey smile until you ask if he's even listening.
"hm? yes, sweet thing, i'm all ears." he'll answer, straightening up as if he's going to stop admiring you and start paying attention (this is not going to happen).
what he is listening to, though, are the thought in his head telling him to put a ring on it as soon as possible.
Me as soon as the fic mentions “Y/N” only for it to be described as an OC, being extremely submissive and childish or uses some dumbass pet-name like “puppy”🥀🥀
Why are you not re-blogging? You think the fandom is dead, that no one’s interacting anymore, no one’s doing anything, no one’s writing, no one’s posting. ‘Everyone was so hyperfixed on that character, Where is the writing?’
People are writing. People aren’t reblogging. People aren’t giving some good feedback to motivate the writers that are putting their hard work, time, effort into making this piece that you were reading.
‘oh, it’s just too much work. You don’t wanna click that button and then click a few tags.’ Then you’re gonna have to suffer and not see a lot of writing from a lot of people because the only way this fucking app works is if you reblog.
I see so many pieces of work with 59 likes and 1 blog, I just saw one that had 690 likes and it had 9 reblogs. Even 1,000 likes and only 59 reblogs too. It’s devastating to see for the community of Tumblr. And I’ve been here for like five years, the way this app works is if you re-blog.
There’s so many people that are writing. There’s so many amazing things that I see and I try my best to reblog every single one that I read. That’s what I love doing because sharing someone’s piece of work is just beautiful because it allows me to show it to more people.
I reblog. And the beauty of it is;
I get notifications that this person liked it and this person liked it, and then that post continues to get more views, more likes and reblogs. All just because one person, reblogged it.
so please, if you are a part of Tumblr and you love reading your favorite writers fics, or love reading about your favorite character, please do your job and reblog it.
And if you don’t like re-blogging because you don’t want to do that on your account, then you can make another account and put all of the things that you read on that account. You can do separate things, like fic recs.
You can figure it the fuck out if you want people to actually be writing for a character you love. The writers are writing, you ain’t helping them share their work.
⟢ synopsis pjo boys finding out you have new lacy panties
⟢ starring pjo boys (percy, jason, leo, connor and luke)
⟢ 18+.
⟢ percy jackson
✶ he’ll see them poking out your pants and get turned on immediately. he’d slyly come up behind you, dick pressing up against your ass, chuckle-whispering in your ear “are those new panties y’got here?” he’s practically itching to bend you over right then and there.
⟢ jason grace
✶ he’ll find them after offering to bring your laundry down atop the pile. blushes so hard. almost drops the whole hamper infront of everyone. he’ll stuff them in his pocket, drop off your laundry then immediately bring you over to his cabin to “talk”. that “talk” ends in you riding him with your panties stuffed in his mouth.
⟢ leo valdez
✶ finds out when you casually change infront of him in the workshop into cooler clothes. so flustered but tries to play it off by making a stupid sexual joke, immediately followed by making out on the workshop floor -> fucking on the workshop floor, where he gets very grabby.
⟢ connor stoll
✶ doesn’t find out on his own, you tell him right before dinner just to tease him. he doesn’t even know how he made it through that. he will bring you round behind the big house to eat it through your new lacy panties like a starved man.
⟢ luke castellan
✶ sees them through your jeans fly. almost aggressively push you up against his wall and fucks the living shit out of you calling you names and saying wearing buying those was “so whorish” of you.
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐬 : In which you have an extremely high sex drive and Percy can't keep up.
𝐜𝐰 : Switch ? Percy ⸝⸝ m! oral ⸝⸝ making out w soft dick ⸝⸝ praising ⸝⸝ grinding ⸝⸝ creampie(s)
Percy wondered about many things, the first being how he had pulled one of the most beautiful girls in the whole camp when he was an insecure teenager and you one of Aphrodite's children, and the second being how you could have such a big appetite for sex after so many years together.
The guy thought Aphrodite's kids were supposed to be all charm and beauty and he doesn't even know ! Just not— not this... this endless fucking machine. If he didn't love you so much, he'd be terrified.
Well, he was terrified.
You had started his day by giving him a blowjob between the sheets, laughing until you managed to swallow his seed. Later, between chores and training the young demigods, you had managed to get him between your legs again.
Percy also wondered how it was possible that you hadn't gotten pregnant with the number of times you made him ejaculate inside you; according to you because it felt a thousand times better to have all of him.
The thing is, by the time the day was over, you were both sweating even after showering together because apparently you hadn't finished with him after following him inside.
You crawled onto the bed beside him, your body humming with insistent ache. The day's exertions had left you sensitive and your pussy still tingling from the way he'd filled you over and over— but not satisfied. Not nearly !
Percy lay on his back, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, his dark hair matted to his forehead. You traced a finger along his hip, feeling the faint tremor in his muscles.
His dick was soft against his thigh, spent and innocent-looking after you'd drained him dry four times already today. His balls looked tender, probably sore from all the cum he'd spilled for you over the day.
You dropped to your knees beside the bed, eyes locked on that limp length. It was cute like this, a pretty pink colour and relaxed, not the thick, veiny monster it became when you coaxed to life. You leaned in, inhaling his musky scent-salt and sweat and that faint tang of cum. Your tongue darted out, licking a slow stripe from the base to the tip.
It was floppy against your mouth, barely reacting, but you didn't care. You wanted it hard, needed it stretching you again.
"Come on, Perce," you murmured, leaning in. Your tongue flicked out once more, tracing the soft underside from base to tip.
Your boyfriend groaned, half-asleep, his hand coming up to rub his face.
"Babe," he muttered, voice rough. "It's been a full fuck day. My dick's done.."
It didn't twitch much at first— just the faint warmth spreading under your touch. You licked again, slower, savoring the salty residue of your earlier fun and then your mouth closed around the head, sucking gently, tongue swirling like you were coaxing a reluctant flame.
Percy shifted, propping himself on an elbow to watch. "You're insatiable. What is it with you and my soft cock? Just let it rest."
You pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at him.
"Rest? This little guy's my favorite toy." You replied and dove back in, kissing along the shaft, your breath hot against the loose skin. It stayed mostly limp, refusing to swell, but you could feel the subtle pulse beneath.
Minutes stretched— five, maybe ten— your jaw starting to ache from the persistent effort. You sucked harder, hollowing your cheeks, then lapped at his balls, careful not to press too firm on the sensitive spots. He winced a little, but his hand found your hair, stroking absently, affectionate even in defeat.
"Aren't you persistent?" Percy asked, a tired laugh bubbling up as his eyes, sea-green and hazy, tracked your movements.
Part of him wanted to just pass out, but watching you- lips shiny, tits brushing his thigh— stirred something low in his gut. You were a vision, all need and devotion, and yeah, maybe he was a bit of a perv for getting off on the sight.
You hummed around him, the vibration pulling a soft grunt from his throat but still nothing much.
Time to up the ante.
You nuzzled the base, your voice dropping to a playful whisper right against the flesh. "Hey there, handsome. You can do it, hm? I know you're tired, but look at me.. I'm all wet and ready for you."
You planted a kiss on the tip, dumb smile curving your lips as if you were chatting with an actual person. "Come on, get nice and thick for me. I need you stretching my pussy again."
Percy snorted. "It's not gonna happen. Told you I'm tapped out."
But you tuned him out, eyes half-lidded, focused on the cock in your hands. You stroked it lightly with your fingers, then licked a broad stripe up the length.
"Shh, don't listen to him. He's grumpy, but you? You're my good boy. Grow for me, yeah? Make me proud and get all long and hard so I can fuck you silly."
Another kiss, deeper this time, your tongue dipping into the slit. You talked to it like that for what felt like forever, praising every tiny twitch, your words breathy and encouraging.
"That's it, baby dick. You're stirring. Knew you had it in you. Fuck, you're so cute when you're waking up."
To Percy's surprise— and hell, his growing interest— it worked. The blood flow trickled in, reluctantly at first, as the shaft thickened a bit, lengthening from soft handful to something semi-firm, curving slightly against your palm. Not rock-hard, but enough to bob when you tugged.
You popped off, beaming up at it like you'd won.
"Yes! Look at you, so perfect." You planted a firm kiss on the tip, tasting the bead of pre-cum that had finally leaked out. "Knew you could do it."
He stared down, a mix of awe and amusement. "Holy shit… Did you just sweet-talk my cock into action? That's a new one."
You laughed, low and wicked, crawling up to straddle his hips. Your pussy was slick, folds swollen from the day's teasing and your own endless want. You grabbed his semi-erect dick, guiding it to your entrance, rubbing the tip along your slit.
"Mmm, feel that? I'm still sooo wet for you."
But he wasn't quite there— too soft to push in without folding. So you ground down, letting the length slide over your clit instead, the friction sparking heat up your spine.
Percy gripped your thighs, thumbs digging in. "You're torturing me over here." His voice had that edge that said he was into it despite the ache in his balls.
You rocked harder, persistent, your clit pulsing against the warming shaft.
This endless stamina was your gift— or curse— letting you chase pleasure without burnout, but even you felt the sensitivity building, raw from the earlier fucks.
The cabin's wooden wall creaked faintly as you moved the bed with your soft thrusts, your breaths syncing with his.
"Fuck, Percy, it's perfect like this. Rubbing you right… there…" You hugged him close, arms around his neck, tits pressing to his chest as you ground in circles.
The pressure built nice, your thighs clenching slightly his sides, and then you came— shuddering, a huff of air escaping as you buried your face in his shoulder. Juices slicked his cock even more, making it glisten.
He held you through it, hands roaming your back, affectionate murmurs in your ear. "There you go. God, you're beautiful when you cum."
Panting, you lifted your head, feeling his dick now - throbbing, harder from the stimulation, finally rigid enough to take you.
It wasn't his usual steel, but it was serviceable, the head nudging your folds insistently. You shifted, sinking down slow, inch by inch.
"Yes… Finally inside me." You didn't know when to stop, did you? Just had an orgasm and already looking for more.
He filled you just enough, the stretch satisfying that deep itch. You started riding, hips rolling in a steady rhythm, your walls clenching around him.
Percy groaned, head falling back. "Shit, you're tight. Easy, babe I'm sensitive as hell.."
But you didn't ease up— bouncing happily, tits jiggling with each drop. The bed squeaked under you, the air thick with the sounds of your pussy taking him.
It was all you, drawing out those weak bucks from his hips. His balls brushed your ass with every grind, probably stinging, but he didn't complain— just watched you with that tired, loving gaze.
"Fuck me, Percy," you gasped, leaning forward to kiss him. Your tongue tangled with his, tasting salt and him. You rode faster, chasing another peak, your clit grinding his base. He was close too, you could tell- his dick twitching inside you.
"I'm not gonna last," he warned, voice strained. His hands squeezed your ass, guiding you down harder.
"Don't care. Cum inside again."
The sole idea of it pushed you over, your orgasm ripping through, your cunt spasming around him. He followed with a weak spurt, not the flood he normally gave you, but enough to warm your insides— a final, exhausted release.
You collapsed onto him, both of you slick and spent, the cabin quiet except for your shared breaths.
As the aftershocks faded, you nuzzled his neck, a content hum escaping your lips. Percy wrapped his arms around you, kissing your temple. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"
You chuckled softly, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "What a way to go. Hero of Olympus, taken down by his girlfriend's pussy."
how about percy getting all putty and whiny, eyes rolling back, when reader rides him?
Overstimulated
Pairing: Percy Jackson x f! readers
TW: Sexual Content/Overstimulation/Vulnerability/Power Dynamics/Physical Intensity.
A/N: sub!Percy is gonna be the death of me.
The salt-scented air of the Poseidon cabin was thick with heat, the only sound the rhythmic, muffled thrum of the Long Island Sound against the hull-like walls. Percy was usually the one in control—the hero who faced down Titans and giants, the leader who kept his head when the world was ending—but here, pinned to the silk sheets of his bed, he was utterly defenseless. The cool blue lighting of the cabin seemed to pulse in time with his racing heart, casting deep shadows over the sharp planes of his face.
You moved with a slow, agonizing deliberation, your hands braced against his chest. Every time you shifted your weight, the friction sent a jolt through him that made his toes curl into the mattress. Percy’s breath came in ragged, hitching gasps, his fingers digging blindly into the bedding as he tried to find some semblance of an anchor. The sheets bunched beneath his knuckles, a poor substitute for the stability he so desperately craved.
"You're... you’re doing that on purpose," he managed to choke out, though it sounded more like a plea than a tongue-in-cheek accusation. His voice was thick, dropped an octave into a raw, gravelly tone that betrayed exactly how close to the edge he was. His chest heaved beneath your palms, the skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat that made your touch slide effortlessly over his pounding heart.
As you leaned forward, hair brushing against his feverish skin, you watched the transformation take hold of him. The "Hero of Olympus" was gone, replaced by a boy who was rapidly coming undone. His head fell back against the pillows, his neck straining, the tendons standing out in sharp relief like the rigging of a ship in a storm. He was unanchored, drifting into a sea of sensation that he had no hope of navigating.
When you sank down fully, a long, high-pitched whine broke from the back of his throat—a sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. It was a pathetic, needy little noise that he would have been mortified by in any other context, but right now, he was too far gone to care about his dignity. The sound vibrated through his entire frame, a shimmering note of desperation that filled the small space between you.
"Wait, wait," he whimpered, his hips stuttering upward in an involuntary, desperate search for more of you, even as his mind screamed that he couldn't take another second. His hands moved from the sheets to your thighs, his grip bruisingly tight for a fleeting moment, then softening immediately into a trembling caress, as if he’d lost the physical strength to hold on. "Please, just... you're killing me, you're actually killing me."
You didn't stop. You picked up the pace just a fraction, grinding down with a targeted pressure that shattered what little remained of his resolve, and that was the final breaking point.
Percy’s green eyes, usually so sharp, defiant, and full of life, began to glaze over. As the pleasure reached a fever pitch, his lids fluttered, losing the battle to stay open. His eyes rolled back until only the whites were visible—a physical manifestation of a mind completely short-circuited by overwhelming sensation. He looked dazed, almost delirious, his mouth hanging open in a silent, breathless gasp before he let out another broken, whiny moan that trailed off into a sob-like hitch.
He was like putty in your hands, his body humming with a frantic, electric energy that seemed to mimic the power of a brewing hurricane. Every muscle was taut, vibrating with the effort of holding back, then suddenly loose and pliable, then taut again as another wave hit him. He was babbling now, his filter completely destroyed. Nonsense words and soft, weeping sounds of "please" and "more" spilled from his lips, his head thrashing slowly from side to side against the pillow as he tried to escape—or perhaps immerse himself further in—the white-hot haze.
"I can't... I can't think," he whispered, a tear of pure overstimulation pricking at the corner of his closed eye. He was entirely at your mercy, his movements reduced to weak, rhythmic twitches that followed your lead. The fierce warrior who had stood against the King of the Titans was reduced to a shaking, sobbing mess, his fingers feebly curling around your wrists as if to beg for either release or a permanent stay in this blissful torment.
In this moment, there was no prophecy, no monsters, and no heavy crown of god-like expectations. There was only the weight of you, the agonizing rhythm of your movement, and the way you could turn the most powerful demigod of the age into a shivering, pleading mess with nothing more than a steady, unrelenting heat and the ruthless command of your body over his. He was yours, entirely dismantled, a wreck of a hero washed up on your shore.
And when he came? Gods, it was full blown whimpering and sobbing, muttering soft 'thank yous' while burying himself deep inside of you.
