#Percabeth fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bayeprose · 3 months ago

Text

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains non-explicit sexual content) ‧˚⭒

Breathlessly, he asks, “... Annabeth, are we—?” “Percy, I don’t know, just kiss me more—” And she tangles her hand throughout his hair and urges him back against her lips. Percy groans as they make contact, his eyes falling shut once more. She’s still touching his leg, she’s squeezing it now and he’s dizzy with desire. He never knew what a turn-on it could be to have a girl grip his thigh, to feel her fingers curled into his hair as she kisses him forcefully—but gods, it’s driving him crazy. Is he allowed to just surrender to this feeling? Annabeth did give him an answer. And he is nothing if not inclined to oblige her request. Mindlessly, his hand reaches for her waist. He isn’t thinking at all—he just wants more of Annabeth. And he caresses her with that adventurous hand—slowly, shakily, over the fabric of her shirt, and then he leans even further into the kiss. With his other hand he grasps her jaw, holding her steady against his lips as they part further and entrap her own in the push of his greedy kiss. Moaning softly, she grips his thigh tighter. In this moment, Percy has never felt more that Annabeth is his and that he belongs to her. Every simmering slip of impassioned tongue and lustful sigh into each other’s mouths empowers the truth that they belong together. His head is swimming from the thrill of touch—it feels so, so good. Her tongue has this way of pressing against his that feels so right, so sensual, so... adult, and he shudders in relief when she does it again. But he’s keeping up, too—smoothing his tongue along her bottom lip, clutching her shirt tightly when she hums in return because he’s eager to give her everything she wants tenfold. Faster, deeper, their tongues trade lusts in frantic glissandos and her airy moans resound in his ears— “Mmph, Percy—” “—Annabeth,” he murmurs urgently, sparing only a second to breathe between kisses before diving back for more. He increasingly depends on his limited instincts, obeying every impulse that commands his body. Wordlessly, their position changes; Annabeth slowly leans back onto the bed and Percy then falls along with her. In hovering over her like this, he’s reminded of their earliest days at Camp Half-Blood sparring together. He still remembers the very first time that he got the best of her, when he’d swung his sword with too much force and knocked her clean onto her back. Percy had rushed to the ground so as to straddle her there, his irreverent sword pointed at her bronze breastplate. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get back up. At the time, he’d felt nothing more than childish pride in finally overcoming the acclaimed Annabeth Chase (and a subsequent lick of fear that she might kill him in his sleep). Only now does he recognize the animal excitement of being on top of a girl like this—on a bed, no less. Her legs spread wider until they take hold of his hips, a touch which summons one tantalizing thought: ‘She wants me here. Between her thighs.’ He didn’t often risk such indulgent thoughts, because he didn’t want to be alone in experiencing them. If Annabeth had ever wanted him that way, she either hid it too well, or he’d been too dense to grasp any number of her hints. Both options seemed equally likely, lending no outlet for his indecent desires. So the odes of lust that he’d sung for her in past were always quickly silenced through sheer willpower. He never let them reach their final note, he didn’t let dirty thoughts become full, lecherous fantasies. Not after a particularly brutal incident some years ago, a summer evening at camp by the lake boardwalk. She wore a tank top that her chest had outgrown the summer before, because a Stoll prank gone wrong had burned most of her clothes. Percy’s gaze had lingered for seconds too long, and then the image of her chest wouldn’t leave his mind. It distracted him as he tried to sleep, flashed across his eyelids each time they closed. He hadn’t stood a chance against his urges that night, succumbing to them twice over in an empty Cabin Three...

Summary: In Frank's eyes, Percy and Annabeth are the perfect demigod couple. They're grown, they're engaged, and they've overcome so much together. Feeling helpless in escalating his own relationship to their coveted adult achievements, he seeks out Percy's help. Unbeknownst to Frank, Percy and Annabeth are grappling with some intimacy struggles of their own.

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

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anticomedygarden · 1 year ago

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hair

Annabeth had a complicated relationship with her hair.

also on ao3

"Ow!" Annabeth whined when Thalia pulled on another messy blonde tangle.

"Sorry," Thalia said, probably for the millionth time. The older girl was kneeling behind Annabeth on the floor of their current hideout and attempting to get the knots out of Annabeth's hair. None of them really knew the last time it had been brushed - probably not since she ran away. "I don't really know what I'm doing here."

"You just gotta unknot it!" Annabeth said. She didn't see why it was so hard; Thalia was 14 and should know how to untangle hair by now. Annabeth did.

Thalia laughed at her, but it sounded strained. "I don't even have a brush, Squirt. Plus, I've never had long hair."

Annabeth's mouth dropped open. "Really?" She thought all girls had long hair at some point.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't really like it. I like yours, though." Annabeth beamed, at least until Thalia tugged again, and she whined.

Suddenly, there was another set of hands in her hair. "Let me help," Luke said.

Thalia put a hand against Annabeth's back, and the younger girl tried not to buck it off. She was independent! "You can try, but I don't know how much better it can get without a wash and a brush."

Luke sighed. "I can at least try."

(Annabeth had never particularly cared about her hair. It wasn't that she didn't like it or anything, she just really didn't have any strong feelings toward it. She liked that it's there, liked the comforting weight and extra warmth in winter, but she'd figured out at a young age that the yellow color did nothing but hinder her in her pursuits, so she didn't bother with it. She could deal with it, but she wouldn't put any extra effort into it.)

When Annabeth left the showers, Percy was waiting on the steps of her cabin, lurking awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" she asked. It was a surprise, to say the least. She would've expected him to be hanging out with Grover or training in the arena. Besides, she had just gotten out of the shower. A blush worked its way into her cheeks.

"I don't know, I thought we could hang out," he said. Then, he caught sight of her fingers tangled in her knotted hair. "What happened?"

Her blush deepened. "It hasn't recovered from the quest yet." And she hadn't had the patience to brush it out in the few days since they'd been back, compounding and compounding the knot until she couldn't get it out if she tried. "I might have to cut it."

"Oh." Percy looked at her funny and stood, then made a move like he was gonna touch her hair. She stepped back on instinct, and he raised his hands. "I can try and get it out."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"I can work a brush." He almost sounded offended.

Normally, she would refuse, balking at the prospect of someone touching her hair, but after the quest, she found she didn't mind the thought as much as she thought she would. Plus, the knot was really bad, so he couldn't make it much worse, and it'd save her a lecture from Silena. She shrugged. "Fine."

Then, she went and got her hair brush from her bunk and went back out the door and sat on the step in front of him.

"Holy crap, what did you do to it?" he exclaimed.

She turned to give him a disbelieving look. "I went on a quest! When do you think I had time to untangle it?"

He didn't really look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else.

"All right," he muttered. The first pull through had her jerking her head back and grabbing his hand behind her.

"Don't try and do it all at once, you'll just make it worse," she scolded. "Start from the bottom."

She felt him gently pull the lower half of her hair and start brushing it. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

After a minute, she relaxed, actually kind of enjoying the feeling. It was nice.

Finally, he finished and handed her back the brush. "I'm done."

"Wait, really?" She reached back to feel her hair and sure enough, it was back to its usual wavy strands, unknotted and flowing. "How'd you do that so fast?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It probably helped that it's wet. Do you wanna spar?"

Mouth still open, she nodded. She'd have to keep that little affinity of his in mind.

(As she got older, she couldn't help but think that indifference was an asset. Quests certainly didn't provide any time or supplies for hair care. Plus, having Percy around made sure it was wet with dirty water half the time, so why try.)

"Remind me why we're out here, again?" Percy asked as they picked their way through the forest.

"Because Tyson said he smelled something funny," Annabeth answered. "And be quiet, you're gonna scare whatever it is away."

Percy stuck his tongue out at her but stopped talking, and they continued walking through the forest until they heard a sound from a ways away.

They froze. One look and they were heading off toward the noise.

It soon became apparent they were heading for nothing as the ground beneath their feet became squishier and squishier.

Then, there was another noise, and she stopped abruptly.

Too abruptly, apparently, because the next thing she knew, she was face down in muddy swamp water.

Groaning, she didn't stay down long and jumped up, knocking Percy over into the water. (He'd be fine.)

"What the Hades, Seaweed Brain?" she said.

He stood slowly. "Why'd you stop?"

"I heard something," she said, reaching up to get some of the gunk off her face. When she touched her hair, though, she paused. It was soaked through with the brackish water. The only thing that could clean it now was a good shower.

Well. It's not like she really cared all that much.

That was her only consolation as they trudged back to camp.

(She didn't think she'd ever want to chop it off; no, it was a part of her, a part she did kinda love on good days, even if it was a nuisance. And she loved having that connection to Percy, and Silena, in a way.)

"Damn, girl, what did I tell you?" Silena said from her spot behind Annabeth's chair. The older girl was attempting to rescue the blonde mass from its latest adventure, and Annabeth was afraid it wasn't looking too good.

"I was kidnapped by a titan, I couldn't exactly take care of it," Annabeth grumbled, wincing when Silena gave a particularly rough pull. She'd been sitting in this chair for years for the daughter of Aphrodite to cut her hair and just generally take care of it, and she still couldn't stand watching herself in the vanity mirror. She looked away.

"Well, I'm afraid I may have to cut it."

"That's fine," she said. It wouldn't be the first time. She looked at herself one final time to mourn the current length and caught sight of the grey streak. "Wait!"

"What?" Silena said, sounding surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you can't untangle it?" she asked.

Silena sighed and picked up the knot of hair again. "I can try, but it'll take a while."

"That's fine," Annabeth said definitively. Hair grew at approximately half an inch per month, but Annabeth wasn't sure how the stress from holding the sky would affect the growth rate or the return to its normal color. However, she wasn't going to hurry the process along, at least, not as long as Percy still had his.

Not that she would ever tell anyone that.

So she sat as patiently as she ever had while Silena untangled her hair.

(Probably the longest Annabeth ever went without brushing her hair was when Percy was missing. Without his fingers to run through it or Silena to pester her about it, she just didn't think of it. Or want to think of it.)

"Okay, no. Come here."

Annabeth looked up from the map she was staring at on a table in Bunker 9 to see Piper walking towards her. "What?"

Leo glanced over from whatever project he was working on with a similar expression of bewilderment on his face. Clearly, he didn't know what Piper was talking about, either.

"Annabeth, your hair. When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Piper asked exasperatedly, steering Annabeth to sit down in a chair.

"I was in the middle of something," Annabeth protested.

"You can go back to staring at that map after I fix this rat's nest," said Piper. "Seriously, I know you have a brush. When was the last time you used it?"

Accepting her fate, Annabeth just shrugged. Her hair was rarely, if ever, on the front of her mind.

When Piper attempted to drag a brush through it, they both winced. "Oh my gods, there's a ponytail in here? How long has that been there? And how long has it been since you washed it?"

Once again, Annabeth shrugged. She honestly had no idea, though, come to think of it, it had been pretty itchy lately.

"Okay, well, that ends now." With that, Piper went to work on the knot, attacking it with the brush. "I'm gonna have to cut the ponytail out."

Annabeth startled. "Wait - the hair or the rubber band?"

"The rubber band," Piper said, causing Annabeth to breathe a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't want there to be any risk of Percy not recognizing her when they found Camp Jupiter. "Your hair is completely wrapped around it."

Without waiting for a response, she whipped out Katoptris and sliced the rubber band out. Annabeth's hair didn't move much.

"Good lord," Piper muttered. "Here we go." The daughter of Aphrodite then went at the knot with the same vigor as Annabeth going at a training dummy. It did not feel good.

Piper was far less gentle than her sister. Piper was far less gentle than Percy.

Annabeth didn't like that thought, didn't like thinking of the dead, and she really didn't like thinking of Percy as missing.

But when she squirmed to try and get away, Piper gripped her shoulder, keeping her from standing. "Piper, I-"

"Hold still."

"I can do it-"

"But you won't, will you?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow.

Even Annabeth had to admit that she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "I promise I'll-"

"No," Piper said with finality. However, it was what she said next that rooted Annabeth in place. "Let me do this for you, please."

She paused. It had never occurred to her that Piper might be trying to help in whatever way she could, that she didn't have the mechanical skills to help build the ship or the memories to help try and pinpoint where exactly Camp Jupiter was. "Fine."

"Thank you."

So, she sat there while Piper untangled her hair and only winced every so often.

Finally, probably an hour later, she was done, and they both stood. "Now, you're going to go eat dinner, then you're gonna shower, and then you're gonna go to bed."

Annabeth blanched. "I still have so much work to do."

Piper put her hands on her hips. "And it will still be there in the morning."

They stared at each other, neither one willing to relent, until Leo giggled from across the bunker. "Someone's in trouble."

Piper snorted. "I don't know why you're laughing, Repair Boy, you're going, too."

Annabeth didn't have to see his face to know his mouth had hit the floor. "I never agreed to that!"

Piper's eyes narrowed, and she went to grab Leo from his work bench. "I don't care." She pointed at the door. "Now, both of you, dinner, shower, bed."

There was no way Annabeth would agree to that, not when there was still so much work to do on the ship, maps to study, star charts to examine - really, she didn't have time. "How about dinner and bed, then shower in the morning?"

Piper's eyes hardened from where she was dragging Leo by the collar over to the door, then she pushed Annabeth's back until the blonde was also standing outside the door. "Dinner, shower, bed." She turned around to lock Bunker 9 behind them. "And for the love of the gods, wash your hair. Yes, Leo, both of you."

(Annabeth needn't have worried about Percy recognizing her. She probably could have shaved her head and painted her face to look like Iron Man, and he would recognize her, even in the depths of Tartarus.)

"What do you think of me cutting my hair?" Annabeth asked.

Her and Percy were limping along the Phlegethon at the approximate rate of a Zamboni in a swamp. Pain and soreness had settled into every corner of her body, but Annabeth was somehow thinking of her hair tangled at the back of her neck and stuck to her face with sweat, and how the hell she would fix it if they made it back to the mortal world. (When. When they made it back to the mortal world.)

She barely felt Percy turn to look at her. "I think you should do whatever you want with it."

Aw. She probably should have predicted that. "Come on, tell me the truth."

He paused. "You know I love your hair."

When he didn't say anything else, she pressed her fingers against his waist. "But?"

"But," he started. "But it's your hair."

"I know that," she said with more force than she meant to.

If she could see anything in the dark, she would've seen his brows furrow. "Do you really wanna get rid of it?"

She bit her lip. "No." She couldn't bear to let go of everything it meant to her now, the memories it carried beyond just the grey streak: Thalia, Luke, Silena, Piper, Percy. It was hers to care for, hers to maintain, and she hated that it took Tartarus for her to realize that. "I just don't know how it's going to recover from this."

"Hey," he said, stopping them. "It's gonna be fine. It'll get through it." She gave him a disbelieving look, though she wasn't sure he could see it. "Do you know how I know?"

Her hands fiddled with the back of his shirt where they were wrapped around his waist. "How?"

"Because it's so bright that it's one of the only things I can see right now."

She pressed her face into his chest. "All right. If you say so."

He rested a cheek on her head. "I do."

(Then, of course, there were the practical purposes.)

"Okay, I think I'm finally getting this," Percy said above her.

"Thank the gods."

He had been messing with her hair for about two hours now trying to figure out how to do a French braid. Without technology, his only resource was a book he found at the library, and it wasn't like Annabeth knew how to do it.

Though she may want to learn soon for the same reason Percy was. He was gonna have a little sister, one that, for all intents and purposes, would probably grow up with Annabeth as an older sister figure which was absolutely insane for her to think about. She technically had plenty of experience as a counselor and an actual older sister (though that qualification was debatable), but it was a whole other thing when it was Percy's baby sister.

It was very hard not to think of Silena, and even harder not to think of Thalia. If she was half the older sister to the new little girl that Silena and Thalia were to her, she would have succeeded.

But for now, she could help Percy learn to be a big brother.

(So maybe she did love her hair. Just a little bit.)

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darkmagyk · 28 days ago

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40 and 41 plzzzzzz

40) Almost Kiss 41) First Kiss This is an AU I've been thinking about. A lot of different prompts kind of fit into it. And this was a really obvious place to start.

Percy had not looked at her in a week. He didn’t dare. What had happened last week was treason.

He knew it. And she knew it. And thank every god no one else knew about it, because treason.

He’d almost kissed the Queen.

It wasn’t so surprising. Queen Annabeth was beautiful. 17, just like him, with gold hair and silver eyes. Adorned with jewels and silks and velvets.

A month ago, he’d called on her in the evening, after Prince Triton had tried to embarrass his new stepmother, a girl who was 20 years his junior, by parading King Poseidon’s favorite courtesan in court at the dinner the night before.

The tittering had seemed to cover the whole hall. And he had seen the Queen’s face go white when one of her ladies had explained who the woman who Triton and King Poseidon was dancing with, was.

The lady, some Baroness Percy couldn’t place, and seemed all too happy to inform her mistress. And Percy had felt awful for her.

He knew what it was like to be on the outside of the court. And he couldn’t help but feel like it was doubly awful for her. He was a bastard; his mother had once been one of the King’s favorite mistresses. They were supposed to be always a little bit on the outside, always a little bit mistrusted.

Queen Annabeth was just that, a Queen. But she had shown up in a home of an old man. Had found herself between a father and son constantly in a battle of wills. And a court who found Poseidon’s third wife to be a stupid waif they shouldn’t have to waste time on.

So, he’d gone to her. He’d meant to offer some friendship, make herself known to her women’s court. But he’d found her alone save for her lady’s maid. She’d said all her own ladies had left for the night, and that they rarely called on her in her chambers.

And so he called again and again. Promised he’d speak to the king. It was well known that though King Poseidon and Crown Prince Triton were often at odds, King Poseidon dotted on his bastard.

And between his recent Military Success, well praised on a boy of 16, and the elevation in title his father had given him, he knew that the Duke of Thera was not a bad ally for the young Queen to cultivate. And she seemed to know the same.

He learned, in his meetings with her, that she knew a great many things. The history of the country, a great deal about how court operated, though not always current gossip. Trade and war and diplomatic relations.

She was smart. Much much smarter than his father probably realized.

He could have made great work of such a queen, but King Poseidon was an old man, and did not seem to want that anymore. He had outgrown strong women the second Percy’s mother had decided she did not want to be his dismissed jewel. She wanted a part to play, or to be released to something better.

Percy wasn’t even sure why Poseidon had married again. And why he’d gone with a wife so very young. He had his heir.

But maybe that was it. He wanted a spare. And more than that, he wanted to remind Triton of his replaceability.

Percy was, frankly, glad he was a bastard. He had a title, and he had the lands and estates his father had gifted him. Enough so that he might always be comfortable. Might have means to care for a wife and children. But he would never have to play court.

Or, he shouldn’t, unless Triton decided to do something stupid.

But Queen Annabeth didn’t have the same option. She had to play court. And so Percy had offered his services. He was just starting to provide her with information, and make suggestions on who and how she might talk to various people.

She had been attentive and shrewd with all the information he told her. And she’d been a charming hostess, always offering ale or wine and cakes.

And this last time…this last time had seemed normal. It had been normal, really. They had been sitting and talking, she’d gotten them cider, something new and delicious she said came in a shipment from her uncle earlier that day. Her uncle, Percy knew, was a king of a land in the far north. The wedding was something of a peace offering to prevent raiding.

She had been melancholy, likely because of the reminder of home.

And as they had spoken, they had found themselves closer and closer. Until he could feel her breath on his face, until her soft hands were in his own, until her curls, unconfined from her cap, brushed his cheek.

He had only pulled back when he his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. Enraptured and horrified in equal measure.

He’d sputtered an apology, giving a very formal bow. And then practically flew from the room. Thank all the gods that his bastard status, plus his ducal title meant that his apartments were in the Royal family’s wings. He was able to put nearly a castle between the two of them.

When at court, he dared not look at her. And it had mostly worked. Until now.

The King had had entertainment tonight. A set of clowns, then the trouvere Chappelle De Rohan, and then some tumbling. The queen was more or less required to attend. And Percy had been requested by his father.

Triton looked furious at his inclusion; a fact Percy found almost comical. You would think after 7-years, the prince would be used to it.

And Percy spent the whole time not looking at the queen. He wondered what she was thinking. What she might have said about him to the king. Or anyone else.

Probably nothing, given that he still had his head. But who knows when that might change.

They were enjoying some after dinner refreshments, and his father, in full view of the Queen, was eyeing one of the serving maids, when Queen Annabeth yawned loudly.

Poseidon noticed, despite her attempts to hide it.

“You are tired, my lady?” He asked his young bride.

“Forgive me, majesty,” she said, “I am. I’m afraid I am one of those women who requires her beauty rest.”

Triton snickered, Percy couldn’t imagine why.

“Of course,” Poseidon said, glancing around the room. “You should get to bed, a young lady like yourself.” Percy thought he noticed a wince in her face. “Percy!”

“Sir?” Percy was already looking at his father and the Queen, but he found himself sitting up straighter under his gaze.

“Escort the Queen back to her chambers, please. I assume you will not want to be present for the next round of amusements.”

“No, your majesty,” He agreed, he father’s eyes were starting to get a little red already, and the prettiest of the serving girls were around. He did not want to be here much longer.

“Good, my boy, walk the Queen back to her rooms and then you may retire yourself.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Percy agreed, bowing, and then swallowing. Walking up to Queen Annabeth and offering her his arm. She smiled at him. No hesitation in the silver, and took it. He led her out of the room. None of the royal guards followed them. Which seemed a horrible oversight.

She sighed as soon as they turned down the corridor, “He is an easy man to manipulate, thank goodness.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t speak so of your father,” She said, “But then, I got exactly what I wanted.”

“What you wanted?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Your Grace,” She said, which was very very true. “So I endeavored to get the king to dismiss us together. Now you simply must walk me to my chambers.”

“You have been wanting to see me?”

“I have,” she agreed. She said no more the rest of their walk. There was a guard standing outside of the royal wing, and he bowed low to the queen, and then again to Percy, even though he was not considered a member of the royal family. Despite no question of his paternity.

He led her to door, but she did not remove her arm as she pushed the door open and walked inside. Only letting go to turn the lock.

“I can guess why you’ve been avoiding me, Percy…” And she’d never called him that before. Your Grace normally, Lord Perseus occasionally. Never just Percy. Very few people did at court. His father, of course, a mark of affection. Triton as an act of diminishment. If he was to call at his stepfather’s estate in the country, the whole family would have called him it. Same with his old tutors and childhood playmates. But at court now, it was a rarity.

“You are my queen.” Percy said, a little desperately, “and the king is my father.”

“Yes,” She agreed, leaning close to him again, “The King your father. I am of an age with his younger son. But luckily, we are friends.”

“Are we, my lady?”

“I want to be, Percy,” She said, and then her lips touched his. Just for a moment, the lightest brush. His first kiss. “I want to be very much.”

He initiated the second kiss. It was much much longer.

#percabeth #pjo fic #percabeth fanfic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #my fic #asks #Let them Call it a Sin

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