a/n: mostly smut
Her lips touched Percy's, hard and fast and sure—
And for a single infinitesimal moment, the world stopped.
For so long she had stood at the edge of a cliff, lacking the courage to leap—but then he had come. And he had done absolutely nothing except be utterly annoying and bothersome, and she had wholeheartedly thrown herself off the cliff.
And now—she was suspended in midair, waiting for the gravity to catch up with her and drag her down to reality.
Percy wasn't moving either. For a terrifying, unending second he stilled, seemingly in shock. She heard it all through the silence that permeated—heard his breath catch, his chest expand, his heart race.
And then he moved.
And she was falling.
It was just as Rachel's stories had promised, Annabeth thought as Percy surged forward. His lips fell perfectly against hers as her insides kindled, igniting in a way she had never believed possible. She gasped, utterly helpless to the ardor inside her.
Percy's hands clutched at her waist, fingertips straining against her nightgown. Her own were desperately roving over his back, across his shoulder, into his damp hair. It slid between her fingers but she held on, intent to hold onto something—
His mouth moved against hers, coaxing her lips open, scraping his tongue along the edge of her teeth until she couldn't breathe—and then he moaned, breathless and low and disbelieving—like he couldn't comprehend what was happening, like he didn't believe it—
And Annabeth wasn't sure she believed it either. She couldn't believe her heart's relentless pounding hadn't broken through her ribs. She couldn't believe the fire in her veins hadn't turned her to ash. She couldn't believe she would be expected to forget this tomorrow.
Her heart hurt in her chest—really truly, positively hurt—and she thought might drift away, that her consciousness might leave her, that she would melt through the floorboards.
And still, he was kissing her, angling her back until her shoulder's hit the door she had struggled to exit before. The same door she had stared at wondering if she was brave enough to seek him out. It was hard to recall there was ever a time before this, prior to his scorching touch and scalding kisses.
His hand slid over her hips as his lips fell across her jaw, spilling open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over the curve of her shoulders. She shuddered in arms, her head falling back against the hardwood. Adrenaline shot up her vertebrae—like she needed something she couldn't even begin to understand, like she needed more—
It felt as if her blood has been replaced with liquid fire, molten lava rushing through her veins, threatening to ignite her from the inside out.
She barely registered the cool draft of air that wafted over her knees before she felt Percy's fingers on her legs, pressing into her skin. She hardly noticed before his mouth was on hers again, the feeling of his lips mindlessly numbing as the world dissolved around her.
She was sure she would disappear with it had it not been for Percy's unrelenting grip, tight around her waist as his free hand tore at her skirt, bunching the paper-thin fabric further up her thighs until the flames curled around the milky white.
Annabeth was vaguely aware that her corset was gone, her undergarments were gone, her everything was gone—and there was only a thin layer of cotton separating them.
Her eyes fluttered shut, stars twinkling behind her eyelids.
Her legs threatened to give out beneath her. She shifted—half fell really—one hand on Percy's chest the other in his hair but the change, the infinitesimal friction was unrelenting, horrifying and dizzying and uncontrollable—just like it had been before, but now it was worse. It was worse because she knew she had no power over it anymore. Any rational objections had fallen to the wayside the second she had kissed him.
She glanced down through half-lidded eyes to see her skirt gathering at her waist, white cotton wrinkled and crinkled until there was nothing left. Her hips were moving in small circles, seeking out friction, seeking out something she had never felt before, praying for him to put an end to this undying pressure inside of her. She felt him hard and stiff against her—and she thought she should be embarrassed—but she really honestly thought she might die, so overcome by the ache in her core she could have mistaken it for a bleeding wound.
She struggled to breathe, gasping shallowly.
And then he dropped to his knees and she stopped breathing altogether.
She stared down at him, eyes wide, eternally confused. He was staring too, but not up at her, no down at her, at her there, where only her ladies had ever seen her. She thought she might have frowned had she been able to properly control her facial expressions.
But then his warm breath spread across her thighs, bleeding through the thin fabric of her underwear, and she couldn't think. Her brain had stopped moving, she had stopped moving, the world had stopped moving.
"Annabeth."
fuck, fuck, fuck—
She couldn't reply. Did he expect her to reply?
She tried to move her tongue. She tried to speak. She had so many questions. She wanted to ask what was going on, what this feeling blooming in her chest meant, if she was supposed to feel so achingly empty. She tried to speak, to say something, but before she could reply, he had hooked his thumbs into underwear and slid them down her legs.
And then he licked his lips and she saw stars. And she would have collapsed had the door not been there.
The first touch was tentative, experimental.
yes
The second was firmer, eliciting a barely-there moan in the back of her throat. She felt his eyes flicker up to hers but couldn't bear to meet them, shuddering in the deafening silence—except it wasn't silent, it wasn't because she could hear her heartbeat, erratic and strong, her pulse, echoing between her ears, the mere sound of her lashes fluttering shut felt monumental.
yes—
Some deep eternal emptiness had infected her, and she had no idea how to fix it. She needed—she needed something—this wasn't enough but—but it would enough for now. It could be enough because something was coming—something big and bright and terrifying lingering on the horizon.
She had sold her soul to the devil. Annabeth was convinced. She must have to feel this good. Nothing had ever felt so wrong but so right. The world shattered behind her eyelids, breaking into shadowy shards of bliss.
And then Percy's fingers did something splendid.
And what had been a symphony became a cacophony, her thoughts turning chaotic and untoward, spilling out her lips in meaningless mumbles—perfect delightful fragments.
yes yes yes—
she couldn't forget this—
fuck fuck fuck—
the world was shattering, dissolving to nothing—
there, yes—
her fingers curled around his hair—
please—
she was burning, hot, melting, scorching—
please don't stop—
the bright green of his eyes flicker up to hers—
percy—
she wouldn't forget this—
he—
they—
yes.
And then she crashed.
And it was over, blinding bright swarms of light peeking at the edges of her vision. She tried to blink them back, bliss curling at her insides. She couldn't focus, not when Percy's lips continued moving against her—pressing whispers into her inner thighs, imprinting promises that would never come true.
Once she could muster the strength, Annabeth tugged on Percy's hair, dragging his lips back up to hers. She could taste herself on his tongue.
There was a bulge in his pants, rubbing against her stomach. She blinked down at it, unsure. Slowly, her hand settled over it, relishing in Percy's resultant groan. He smothered it into the curve of her neck, nipping at the column of her throat.
She did it again and he lurched forward, his whole body rocking towards her. She smiled, wondering if this was what it was like to hold a man in the palm of her hands. But when she reached for the belt holding up his trousers, she felt Percy go stiff.
He froze as did she, suddenly afraid she had done something wrong. Percy took a deep shuddering breath and teetered backwards, putting a millimeter of space between them.
It was barely there, just a breath of air, but she felt its chill nonetheless.
His eyes were closed, his jaw tensed, his every muscle poised and tense and prepared for—for something.
"I can't—" he said finally, his voice raspy and guttural.
Annabeth felt her blood run cold for the umpteenth time that night.
Her nightgown fell back over her legs, the fabric unusually coarse against her skin. She blinked, a horrific blush slithering its way across her cheeks as she stepped back, her lips pursed.
"It's—it's because I care," Percy tried to explain, reaching for her wrists to keep her close.
She allowed it if only because she was sure she could embarrass herself no worse in his eyes.
Her gaze fell on the sizable bulge in his pants. Was she really so foolish to think he might want this too? That he might want her as badly as she wanted him?
"Is it because you care?" Annabeth ground out, still not meeting his eyes. "Or because you do not trust me to make decisions for myself?"
"I—" Percy swallowed thickly, clearly frustrated. She wished she didn't care. "I do not trust you not to regret me."
Annabeth locked her jaw, nodding slowly. "It's alright," she told him with a deep breath, her voice suspiciously even. "You're right."
"Annabeth—" Percy protested, shaking his head, that same misunderstood, pitiful look on his face.
It took everything inside of her not to scream in that dreadful moment.
"No," Annabeth sneered, snatching back her arms. "I suppose I was wrong for believing you might trust me after you told me so—"
"Annabeth," Percy sighed. "It's not—"
"Don't say my name!" Annabeth snapped then, taking a sharp stride away from him. She wanted to put distance between them, to regain the composure she had once held to such high esteem. "You don't deserve to say my name after—after you—"
"If I—if we—" Percy stumbled through his words, trying to get them out. "You would regret it—you'd be tainted—"
Annabeth flinched at the word. She wished she hadn't, but she couldn't help it. Her entire life she had feared the term, and in a second, she had been utterly willing to wear it for the rest of her life—albeit subconsciously.
"And you?" Annabeth questioned softly, the words barely reaching him.
He frowned. She wondered if it was confusion or anger that plagued him.
"Would you not be tainted as well?" Annabeth rephrased, eyes still trained on his pants.
"It—it is not the same," Percy said with a sigh. She thought she heard sympathy in the sound but ignored it. "You know it is not the same—"
"But you care," Annabeth laughed hollowly, biting her cheek. "You would look at me and think me tainted because—just because—"
"That's not what I said," Percy interjected suddenly, more sternly than she expected. "Don't put words in my mouth."
"I haven't," Annabeth ground out, her hands curling into fists. "You said I would be tainted. You couldn't have been clearer."
Percy was silent. She risked a glance up at him after a prolonged moment, trying to gauge his expression. He looked conflicted, a deep furrow between his brows.
"Please Annabeth," he sighed finally, shaking his head in apparent defeat, "for once, let us agree not to fight. Not when tomorrow…"
"Tomorrow," Annabeth echoed faintly, feeling a chill sweep across her collarbones. She shivered.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice straining.
"Okay," she agreed finally with a half-hearted nod of her head.
…
It was difficult to describe how exactly Annabeth had ended up in sleeping besides with her sister's fiancé—no, Percy. Tonight, he was just Percy.
It had started with her reluctant agreement not to fight, followed by a forceful tug at her wrist which she unenthusiastically protested. Once she was in the bed, however, her tired muscles relaxed into the old cot. In the excitement of the night, she had almost forgotten how tired riding all day had left her.
Percy had gotten into the bed next to her despite her vehement glares that strongly suggested he do otherwise. He hadn't touched her, simply laid parallel to her on the far side of the mattress. He hardly looked at her either, though she caught his eyes lingering as she sighed, tired of fighting, and relaxed.
She held the sheets up beneath her arms, tight around her chest to try to keep warm. It didn't do much good, though, as the fabric was thin and ratty. Even the quilt that Percy had apathetically thrown at her after her tenth bout of shivers wasn't doing much either.
She could feel Percy's heat radiating into the comforter, but she was thoroughly convinced she'd rather freeze than allow Percy to touch her again. She even ignored his outstretched had that was suspiciously close to her, flat against the bed. When she was certain he was asleep, however, she allowed her own to hover atop his. It was larger than hers, she knew that now. It didn't surprise her. There was a lot about him that didn't surprise her anymore.
Carefully, with one eye on his sleeping figure, she lowered her hand onto his, feeling warmth shoot through her at his touch. She lay like that for a bit, fingers just barely grazing his. She promised herself she'd only be a second, but a second became a minute and then an hour. And before she knew it, she was on the brink of sleep, exhaustion catching up to her.
She recalled faintly, as she dozed off, that she should probably move her hand now. She wouldn't want to face his knowing sneer in the morning. Then again, she thought, she might die tomorrow. Besides, she sighed, her shivers had ceased, and she really didn't want them back.
With that in mind, she fell asleep, her fingers curled around Percy's.
a/n: sorryyyyy, I know this is super short but it's entirely smut so...
anyway, didn't edit obviously
dedicated to DntlessAnnabeth, cashmiraculous, and akisabookworm!
how to beat a rumor next, see u soon!
ciao!
