Percy has a problem. Annabeth wouldn't help him. All his other brief girlfriends or one night stands wouldn't help him. Luckily, his bro Jason is willing to step up to the plate and ensure that Percy is having all of his needs met.

sea_salt_waves said: I've been having all these feelings lately about a human Geno falling for sexually-repressed incubus!Sid who pays sex workers to jerk off for him and has never been in a relationship before, with all kinds of insecurities and pining… ... I didn't stick to the prompt perfectly, but it was definitely my inspiration. I hope you enjoy!

Sid’s been dropping subtle clues for years, it feels like, but Geno’s never picked up what he’s thrown down. So when the perfect opportunity presents itself—well, he’d have to be an idiot not to take advantage. The conversational topic is Things That Have Disappointed You in the Bedroom. Sid has this all wrapped up, to be honest. “Guys with big dicks,” he says flatly, and Tanger spits his beer all over the table. (OR: The Bedroom Adventures of Sidney Crosby, Troll)

“Patrick,” Jonny cuts in. He’s breathing too hard. “You’re not supposed to touch me because I hurt people. My touch. It hurts people.” “Well, you didn’t hurt me,” Patrick says, flopping onto the bed.

Geno and Sid are stuck missing the All-Star Game because they've had their genitals temporarily rearranged. It happens. They make the breast of it.

Jonny’s prostate is a gift from the gods. Patrick’s patience, also.

When he’d admitted his problem to Shouta in an embarrassing split-second decision that he’d almost regretted—because what twenty-two year old up-and-coming pro hero had never managed to get off before, seriously—he hadn’t expected his best friend to bluntly offer to help. But now. Oh, now. Hizashi felt like he was going to explode, and not in a good way.

Sid shows up to practice with a hickey. Misunderstandings ensue.

Sid didn’t introduce himself in the hallway, and he certainly doesn’t assume that people know who he is. So it would only be polite to thank Malkin again, this time more personally. He could write him a letter. An email? No, a letter.

Jamie accidentally discovers Tyler's profile on JizzHands.com. A situation develops.

“You’re an investment,” Pat had told Sid over and over. “You’re a talent, and we’re not letting the league freeze you out for this.” The NHL demands omegas be bonded to play. Sid, unwilling to lose hockey, agrees to enter into a bond with the Penguins' draft prospect Evgeni Malkin. It does not go as they planned.

Zhenya’s just leaving the practice rink when he notices him for the first time. The guy’s standing outside the front entrance, staring at the sign and biting his full bottom lip. There’s something familiar about him, but Zhenya can’t place him. He must be mistaken—surely he would have remembered that ass if not the face. The summer before Zhenya starts in the NHL, he meets an adorable tourist who's too irresistible not to take home.

Evgeni Malkin goes into rut on the ice in North Dakota.

Jonny's standard canned press response is that he loves Kaner like a sister...which is perfectly true, if you’re talking like on Game of Thrones.

"Sidney. Sidney." Geno seemed to be committing the name to memory on his tongue. "Beautiful name for beautiful man." "Oh my God this is gold," Duper whispered into the phone's speaker. (Or: How to navigate the aftermath of your teammate recording and distributing footage of you hitting on your captain.)

A fill for this prompt I saw on tumblr: plot bunny: hockey player of your choice comes out to his team/comes out to his new team/has always been out but is generally quiet about it. his team is cautiously supportive of his sexuality. they are, however, astonished and outraged to learn that dudes do not often consider their out teammate a catch.

“I’m not telling you not to train,” Bobby said. “I’m just telling you not to be completely insane about everything for the rest of your life.” Carey blinked at him, and then the stiffness in his shoulders seemed to give way, to sag. “So, what, are you just gonna sleep for three days?” Carey said, his voice a little — a little bit lost, and oh. Oh, kid.

Dylan doesn’t know whose idea it was to put hockey players in lingerie, but he kind of wants to send them a thank-you card.

Sid approaches the door and opens his mouth to call out when he's arrested by the sight in front of him. Geno sitting in the bright early summer grass with a little child in front of him, sun shining in her fluffy hair and on the crinkles by Geno's eyes as he talks to her, reaches for her, poking gently at her belly with one long finger, her eyes fixed on his face, mouth open in utter joy. Sid's heart seizes in his chest at the look on Geno's face as he watches.

Jordan’s always been kind of jealous of people with dynamics, like Taylor.

Jonny’s never spent a heat with another guy, alpha or no. Never had an honest-to-god-dick-attached-knot inside him. Never been with someone he used to daydream about lifting his ass up for, even on suppressants.

Dylan wants both of them to shut up and Connor to just put his dick in him already, but he knows this is crossing a lot of boundaries for the both of them and communication is important.

Sidney always knew his family would pick who he ended up with. It was how things were done, and no matter what the outside world thought, he'd never questioned it before because it was just the reality: ice was frozen, getting checked against the boards knocked the wind out of you, one day Sid would be matched to someone his parents and the matchmaker and his aunts and uncles and his community thought was the best fit for him. And best of all, Sidney wouldn't have to worry about it. He would just focus on hockey. He'd deal with it one day. Eventually. 'One day' had seemed so much farther away when he was younger.

Landy is shaking his head next to him as he applies the scent blocker to his own upper lip. "I thought you guys were friends -- you've never smelled his heat pheromones before?" "What? I was friends with who?" Landy smacks Nate upside the head. "Crosby," he says, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. Nate looks back out at the ice, where Sid is taking a faceoff, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. "Holy shit," he mutters.

It coalesces somewhere around hour two, and then it’s suddenly, inescapably, achingly obvious. He takes a deep breath and realizes he’s just really, really horny. What the ever-living hell? -- Wherein curses are real, pride comes before a fall, and PK and Carey have to cope with a little more magic than anyone expected.

Auston chuckles. “You must be really fucking demanding in bed.” “Yeah, I probably would be,” Mitch says. “Would be?” Auston repeats.

Dylan Strome is a late bloomer.

For the record: Travis does hook up. A completely normal amount, even.

The girl on Tinder is typing again. why don’t you show me how good you are with a cock Tyler coughs and drops his phone. That’s—wow. He did not expect her to go there.

Dylan snorts. “Nice game you have going on there,” he calls. Kaner looks up, startled. “Huh?” “The gay chicken.” Dylan raises his cup to them. “Nice effort.”

It’s okay to be a wolf in the NHL now. That’s what everyone tells Dylan, anyway. To Podfic: "I Love the Riddles That You Speak" & "Race Like Falcons to Crash and Burn"

“Uh, so when you said you could help me, did you mean…” Connor thinks that he understood Leon alright, but making sure is probably a good idea. Leon looks a little sheepish. “Not to sound super cocky or whatever, but I’ve been told I’m pretty good in bed. I could show you a thing or two. If you want.”

“That was so good,” Willie tells him, and he gets that heat in his stomach again. "You're so good."

“Did, uh,” Jamie asks, “did this ever happen when you played this game with Brownie?” “Nope,” Tyler says.

“Maybe you should practice on me,” Jordie says.

“Wait, so you’ve all tried it?” Jonny asks.

They get to the tables with the guys, who’re watching with varying levels of amusement, and finally Ritter drops him on the padded bench. Matt bounces and nearly slides right off. Ritter manages to catch him, one firm hand planted on his chest, pressing him down. “Stay,” he orders and Matt sucks in a sharp breath as something in him goes molten hot. OR Matt's got a bit of a Ritter sized problem.

He looks nervous for a moment and Taylor is about to step in, but Nico starts again. “Would you have sex with me?” “Um,” Taylor fumbles. His brain feels like it just went off the track in Mario Kart. “You want to hook up with me?” “I want you to teach me how to have sex,” Nico says, firmer this time. Taylor huffs out a laugh, because he sounds so sure of himself and what he wants, but also he must be fucking kidding.

When it had first happened, body melting into this new form right there in front of all the guys, he’d demanded an answer from Jonny. “Did you see this coming?” A five first times fic.

For Patrick, half the point of coming out was to finally be able to have decent sex. He just wasn't expecting it to be with Jonny.

For the prompt, "Zevran thought he would have to teach Alistair the finer points of lovemaking. Imagine Zevran's surprise when Alistair ravished him their first night. He would never underestimate Alistair or a warden's stamina again." Because it pretty much wrote itself.

As Theon grows, he begins to question his place in the Stark family. Especially in regards to the heir of Winterfell.

"Stay with me," Tim asks in a rush. "I... Bruce can't lose you again. I need to know you're alive and well." Jason scoffs. "He nearly killed me, I don't think he cares." "Doesn't matter. I think he cares, so I'm offering you a deal. Come to my place. Sleep, shower, get something to eat. Maybe stick around for longer. Just stop... Stop staring at the ground like you're thinking about jumping without a line."

“Are you alright?” Tim squints, his new ears standing at attention, “You look flushed.” Jason tears his eyes away to stare at the ceiling, “I’m fine, and you look like Beast Boy’s deleted search history.” “That’s more like it,” Tim takes another step closer and Jason steps back immediately, “but you’re still being weird.” “I’m not being weird, I’m being nice and not trash talking you. Can we get to the case?” There’s a pause, then Tim’s eyes narrow and he brushes his tail against Jason’s leg with deliberation. Jason knows he’s been made when he fails to contain the shiver of arousal that runs through him. Tim’s eyes go wide, “Holy shit. You like it.”

Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else. In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.

They’d arrived at the island of Mae to catch the end of a brutal, bloody conflict between the island natives and a band of thugs from further inland. After helpfully settling the conflict, the townspeople of Mae offer to throw the Strawhats an island-wide party complete with food, dancing, music and free credit at the best brothel their town has to offer. Wherein Sanji smokes a questionable substance prepared by a local devil-fruit user and gets a little bit hornier (and a little bit looser with his inhibitions) than he ever intended to be around a certain swordsman.

The fight is brief and unsatisfying. The whole thing takes no more than five minutes and no more than two swords. They still hum for blood as Zoro sheathes them and faces the gang's growling, pissed off boss. “Fine,” the man shouts. “We’ll take you then, huh? Plenty of folks will pay to bring a big man down low,” he says nonsensically. “What—” A sharp pain in his ankle cuts him off. A downed man pulls a needle out of Zoro's skin.

“So, we’re gonna play it like that, huh, Cook?” “Oh yeah. We’re gonna play it like that,” Sanji returns, despite having absolutely no fucking clue what Zoro could possibly mean by that. --- Or: The Great Game of Gay Chicken Aboard the Thousand Sunny

Three inches in front of Sanji's face, Zoro is wearing an expression that could wither stone. "What the fuck," the swordsman snarls, "do you think you’re doing." The remaining logical dregs of Sanji's brain recognize that he's just gotten himself into a pretty dicey situation. The rest of it apparently doesn't fucking care, though, because the absurd line of response he comes up with is to grin right in Zoro's supremely pissed-off face and say- "Well, what was your dumb ass doing?" In which the crew’s plastered, Zoro needs to blow off some steam, and Sanji gets taught a lesson or two.

Sebastian takes his problems and a confusing gift to the lake for some Frog Therapy, and things go a little wrong before they go a little right.