Percy Jackson X Shy Reader - Blog Posts

Center of Attention - Percy Jackson

✧˖*°࿐*✧. ┊Percy Jackson had always been confident—flirty, loud, and completely shameless. He was the type of guy who loved attention. He learned from a very young age girls couldn't say no to him, and god did that feed his ego. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite: shy, quiet, and never one to stand out. So, why did it seem like Percy couldn’t leave you alone? Maybe he was just being the usual flirt. Or maybe, for some reason, he found you interesting. ✧. ┊ 

The training field was buzzing with energy as Percy Jackson—undeniably the loudest person in camp—was in his usual element. Sword clashing, campers shouting, and laughter echoing around. You, however, preferred the quiet. You weren’t bad at sword fighting, but you weren’t one to show off either. So, you kept your distance, practicing on your own and staying out of the spotlight.

But of course, Percy noticed.

“Hey, Y/n!” Percy’s voice rang out like a bell, and you froze mid-swing, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped when you heard it. Percy walked over with his usual grin plastered on his face, completely oblivious to the fact that you were desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

“You’re being all quiet over here,” he teased, leaning his sword on his shoulder and giving you an exaggerated pout. “Don’t you know it’s way more fun when you’re with everyone else?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, glancing at the ground and your shoes, cheeks turning pink. “I like it better here.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Really? You sure? Or are you just trying to avoid me?” His tone was light, but you could see that playful glint in his eyes that told you he wasn’t letting this go anytime soon.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you muttered, wishing he would just stop looking at you like that.

“Oh, but you’re definitely avoiding something,” he said, walking closer. “You’ve got that whole ‘mysterious, quiet, I don’t need attention’ vibe going on, and I don’t buy it.” He circled around you, teasingly inspecting you like you were some kind of puzzle he needed to solve.

“I’m just… practicing,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant as you gripped your sword a little tighter from your spot on the bench.

He smirked and leaned in putting his hand on the bench behind you, way too close for comfort, tapping the tip of his sword lightly against your head. “Practice, huh? Is that what we're calling it? You sure you’re not just avoiding me ‘cause you can’t handle how good I look when I’m fighting?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you swore you felt your face burning. “What?” you squeaked, eyes wide.

“Come on, admit it,” Percy teased, his grin growing. “You’re a little intimidated by me, aren’t you?”

“No!” you said quickly, turning your head away from him.

Percy chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned back on his heels, giving you a lazy wink. “Yeah, you are. I get it. I’m just that good.”

He stepped closer again bending down, so close that you could feel the heat of his presence. “Tell you what—let’s see what you’re really made of. You and me, right here. I’ll even let you take the first swing. If you land it, I’ll stop teasing you. If not… well, you’re gonna owe me.”

“Owe you what?” you asked, a little hesitant.

“If I win, you owe me dinner,” he said, leaning in as if this was a grand deal. “And you're gonna really owe me because we both know I’ll win. But hey, I’ll be gentle. I promise.” He winked at you like you already lost.

“I’m not—” you started, but before you could protest, he grabbed your waist in that way that was somehow both too confident and way too casual.

“Let’s get you moving,” Percy said, lifting you off the bench in one swift motion like you weighed nothing. He set you on your feet with a small, playful pat on your head. “There you go. See? Not so bad.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “I didn’t agree to this,” you muttered, trying to stay steady on your feet.

He smirked, the playful glint never leaving his eyes. “Didn’t need to. You’re doing it anyway.”

A few moments later, you were in the sparring ring with Percy Jackson, who was practically bouncing with excitement.

“You ready for this?” he asked, twirling his sword in a way that made you question how anyone could be this cocky and still be this charming.

“Why don’t you just let me win?” you mumbled, not feeling confident in the slightest.

“Ah, see? There it is.” Percy grinned, his eyes lighting up. “I knew you’d get all shy on me, but that just makes this more fun.”

“You’re annoying,” you said, trying to focus on your footing and not the fact that Percy was looking at you like you were his next great adventure.

Before you could even move, Percy was already at your side, his sword grazing yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s okay,” he teased, his voice smooth like honey. “You don’t have to be so modest. I know I’m amazing. Let me show you.”

He stepped aside, giving you room to strike. You swung your sword at him, but of course, he dodged it with ease.

“Come on,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You can do better than that.” He then flicked his sword toward your arm, not to hit you, but just enough to make you flinch.

“Stop that!” you protested, trying to regain your composure.

Percy just laughed, clearly enjoying this way too much. “You can’t fight me if you’re not looking at me.” He winked. “Look at me, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, swinging your sword again.

But before you could do anything, he slipped past you with ease, suddenly behind you. You felt a light tap on the top of your head. “See? You’re too easy. I’m gonna make you work for this.”

“Not fair!” you yelped, trying to turn around to face him.

Percy, not missing a beat, caught your wrist in a gentle but firm grip. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned in so close that his breath brushed against your ear, making your heart race. “You’re way too cute when you’re all flustered. I gotta keep messing with you.”

Eventually, Percy “accidentally” knocked your sword out of your hands and won the match with a light tap to your shoulder. He held his sword up, grinning like he’d just claimed victory over an entire army.

“I win,” he said smugly, tossing his sword aside and looking you over with a gleam in his eye. “So, I’m taking you out to dinner. You owe me now.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath from the whirlwind of his teasing.

“Oh, you definitely owe me,” Percy said, stepping closer again and tapping your nose lightly. “I’ll let you pick the dessert, though, since I'm such a gentleman,” he smirks patting your head.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay cool, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible,” you said, though there was something softer behind the words.

“Impossible to resist, you mean,” he teased, nudging you with his elbow. “See you at dinner, cutie," he winks.

As he walked away, you couldn’t stop your heart from racing. Percy Jackson might have been flirty and infuriating, but there was something about him that kept pulling you in.

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