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greenconversesThe last two from the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pjo_kinkmeme...for now. I'm working on couple more things that may or may not be posted tonight sometime.
Title: Secret Spot
Rating: R
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Prompt: Percy's Achilles spot
Her fingers dance across the small of his back before they slide under the material of his T-shirt, and press against his bare skin. Percy shifts in his seat, but keep his eyes forward and attention mostly focused on the professor at the front of the lecture hall instead of what his girlfriend is doing beneath his shirt.
Her hand rests innocently on his back for a few minutes, her fingers drumming a pattern on his spine, and Percy almost forgets her hand is there at all…until she brushes one finger lightly across his vulnerable spot.
Percy jerks, knocking his leg against the chair’s folding desk and causing his notebook and textbook to go crashing to the floor. The professor pauses his lecture, and several people in front of him swivel in their seats to stare at him.
“Is there a problem?” the professor asks, adjusting his glasses as he looks at Percy.
“N – no, sir,” Percy replies, feeling his cheeks begin to turn red as he realizes his jeans have tightened considerably. “Just dropped my books, that’s -- ”
Percy bites his lip as Annabeth brushes his vulnerable spot again, and ducks down to pick up his scattered papers so the professor can’t see exactly how red his face is getting. Someone at the front of the room laughs, but the professor picks up the lecture from where he left off and chairs creak as people turn back around.
“What,” Percy hisses as he sits up, pulling his books into his lap, and glaring at Annabeth, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Me?” Annabeth whispers in her most innocent voice, staring straight ahead at the professor as she takes notes with her free hand. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Bullshit,” is what Percy means to say, but as he opens his mouth, Annabeth rubs a slow circle around his vulnerable spot and he feels his brains beginning to leak out from between his ears, so what actually comes out of his mouth is something that actually sounds like, “Blaggaaffle?”
“Oh,” Annabeth says, turning her gaze away from the professor and fixing it on Percy. Her grey eyes are sensual and wicked, and a flush heats Percy’s cheeks for a completely different reason and his jeans grow positively uncomfortable. “You mean this?”
Annabeth circles his spot again, and Percy shifts in his seat, biting back a groan as pleasure flows through him. Now he knows why Annabeth wanted to sit in the back today, far from everyone else and mostly out of the professor’s radar.
“This -- this is revenge for the library incident, isn’t?” Percy pants, gripping the chair’s wooden armrests so tightly, his knuckles turn white. Annabeth’s circling picks up, going a little faster and a little harder, and he has to fight not to jerk around like a fish caught on a line.
“Yup,” she says lightly, as if getting her boyfriend off by touching his mystical vulnerable spot in the middle of crowded lecture hall is no big deal. Which, really, it isn’t, considering their relationship.
Annabeth presses two fingers against his spot and rubs -- hard. Percy throws his head back and closes his eyes, exhaling loudly as he comes in his jeans. Annabeth keeps on stroking his spot, causing additional shockwaves of pleasure to flow through him as he comes down from his high.
He’d be embarrassed by how fast he came, like it was his first time all over again, except he thinks that was Annabeth’s goal all along, which is okay with him.
“You know, I only told you about my Achilles’ spot because I thought you’d use the knowledge for good, not evil,” Percy mutters, glaring at her because now he’s tired, he has to sit through twenty more minutes of lecture with wet boxers and jeans, and he really just wants to take Annabeth back to his dorm and fuck her brains out.
“What can I say,” Annabeth says with a broad grin that could rival the Cheshire cat. She pulls her fingers out from under his shirt, and waggles them at him tauntingly. “It’s just much more fun to be evil.”
-
Title: A Dangerous Task
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Prompt: sparring as foreplay
Sparring with Percy is a dangerous task.
Not because he’s one of, if not the best warrior in camp (but she can still kick his ass around the training arena and back) with a blade or because his invulnerability makes him take bigger risks with his sparring partners, so much so that Chiron’s banned anyone but the senior counselors from doing intensive training with him.
No, what makes it dangerous is that Annabeth can’t resist him after a good, rough training session. Nothing gets her hotter faster than the adrenalin rush that comes with trading and blocking fierce blows, or the primal satisfaction that flows through her veins when she manages to knock Percy on his back or gets the upper hand in their fight.
She loves grappling with him, feeling skin and muscle and body slide against each other as they fight for control; loves it when he pins her to the ground, his body hovering triumphantly over hers and his chest heaving, before she flips them and takes back the advantage; loves way he groans under the strain of blocking a strike or when she lands one on him.
The thing she loves most, though, has to be the way he looks at her with that hungry, wanting gleam in his eyes, and knowing that he’s as turned on as she is by all of this. Percy loves the danger and thrill just as much as she does.
It’s a wonder that they’re almost always able to make it back to Percy’s cabin first before one of them jumps the other, and they fuck on whatever surface is available. What happens between them is fucking, pure and simple, because nothing this fierce and wild can be called making love or just plain old sex – it’s an extension of their sparring, minus a few key pieces of clothing and much more pleasurable.
Today, they don’t make it quite that far, stumbling into the weapons shed in-between training sessions, their mouths sealed together and limbs intertwined.
Percy kicks the shed’s door shut and then backs her into the wall, crushing her between the wood and his chest. She winds her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and deeper because she wants to feel everything. He tastes like sweat and dirt, and his kisses are as desperate as his parries were on the battlefield. It’s dark and hot and cramped, and it couldn’t be any better.
His hands immediately go for the button of her jeans and begins fumbling with them, sliding them down her hips and off her legs. He moves briefly so she can step out of them – she leaves her boots on because they really don’t have the time to be worrying about those and besides, Percy likes the way the boots look on her anyway.
She returns the favor, pushing his jeans and boxers down his hips, and freeing his erection. He’s hard and aching for her, just as she’s wet and dripping for him, and Percy’s hand slides to the back of her thigh, lifting it up to his waist. He presses against her, and Annabeth’s center pluses in pleasured agony. They both moan from the feel of the heat and the pressure as Percy rubs himself against her.
He pulls aside her underwear, and then thrusts inside of her. Annabeth gasps, throwing her head back against the wall, and clutching his shoulders tightly as his hard length fills her. Percy begins moving inside her, almost painfully slow and shallow, and not at all what she wants.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasps, sweating beading on his neck. He rotates his hips, circling slowly, tortuously, and Annabeth moans. “So damn tight.”
“Percy,” she gasps, gripping the straps of his armor. She bucks her hips, trying to take more of him in. “Go faster.”
He nods, and then his hands move to grip her ass. He hoists her up higher on the wall and she wraps both her legs around his waist before sliding all the way down on him. Percy lets out a strangled groan and his grip tightens painfully on her ass as he begins thrusting deeper and faster.
Annabeth gasps as he brushes against that spot inside her, and Percy’s eyes darken with lusty recognition. He thrusts hard against that spot, and Annabeth has to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming. Her hips rock desperately, seeking more friction, more pressure as the aching heat builds inside of her. She’s so full, but it’s not enough, not near enough.
She snakes a hand in-between their bodies, finds her clit, and rubs it roughly. It’s just enough to transform that heat into a blazing fire, and moans wordlessly as her orgasm washes over her brutally. Percy lasts just a little longer, thrusting into her erratically and kissing her fiercely before he comes inside her with a hoarse gasp.
They stay like that – wrapped around each other with trembling limbs, heaving chests, and sweaty faces – for several moments as they recover. Percy’s last kiss before he pulls out of her is languid and sweet, and they share a mutual, satisfied grin as he sets her to the ground.
“Ready for another round in the arena, Wise Girl?” he asks breathlessly, pulling up his pants and running a hand through his hair.
“You better believe it, Seaweed Brain,” she says, reaching for her discarded jeans. “And when I win, you’re going to be pinned to the wall.”
“You wish,” he replies, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her close. He kisses her in that way of his that makes her toes curl, and ignites that recently dampened ache once again. At this rate, they might not even make back to the training arena on time, which really isn’t all that much of a problem.
Sparring with Percy might be a dangerous task, but Annabeth wouldn’t have it any other way.
pjo_kinkmeme...for now. I'm working on couple more things that may or may not be posted tonight sometime.Title: Secret Spot
Rating: R
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Prompt: Percy's Achilles spot
Her fingers dance across the small of his back before they slide under the material of his T-shirt, and press against his bare skin. Percy shifts in his seat, but keep his eyes forward and attention mostly focused on the professor at the front of the lecture hall instead of what his girlfriend is doing beneath his shirt.
Her hand rests innocently on his back for a few minutes, her fingers drumming a pattern on his spine, and Percy almost forgets her hand is there at all…until she brushes one finger lightly across his vulnerable spot.
Percy jerks, knocking his leg against the chair’s folding desk and causing his notebook and textbook to go crashing to the floor. The professor pauses his lecture, and several people in front of him swivel in their seats to stare at him.
“Is there a problem?” the professor asks, adjusting his glasses as he looks at Percy.
“N – no, sir,” Percy replies, feeling his cheeks begin to turn red as he realizes his jeans have tightened considerably. “Just dropped my books, that’s -- ”
Percy bites his lip as Annabeth brushes his vulnerable spot again, and ducks down to pick up his scattered papers so the professor can’t see exactly how red his face is getting. Someone at the front of the room laughs, but the professor picks up the lecture from where he left off and chairs creak as people turn back around.
“What,” Percy hisses as he sits up, pulling his books into his lap, and glaring at Annabeth, “do you think you’re doing?”
“Me?” Annabeth whispers in her most innocent voice, staring straight ahead at the professor as she takes notes with her free hand. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Bullshit,” is what Percy means to say, but as he opens his mouth, Annabeth rubs a slow circle around his vulnerable spot and he feels his brains beginning to leak out from between his ears, so what actually comes out of his mouth is something that actually sounds like, “Blaggaaffle?”
“Oh,” Annabeth says, turning her gaze away from the professor and fixing it on Percy. Her grey eyes are sensual and wicked, and a flush heats Percy’s cheeks for a completely different reason and his jeans grow positively uncomfortable. “You mean this?”
Annabeth circles his spot again, and Percy shifts in his seat, biting back a groan as pleasure flows through him. Now he knows why Annabeth wanted to sit in the back today, far from everyone else and mostly out of the professor’s radar.
“This -- this is revenge for the library incident, isn’t?” Percy pants, gripping the chair’s wooden armrests so tightly, his knuckles turn white. Annabeth’s circling picks up, going a little faster and a little harder, and he has to fight not to jerk around like a fish caught on a line.
“Yup,” she says lightly, as if getting her boyfriend off by touching his mystical vulnerable spot in the middle of crowded lecture hall is no big deal. Which, really, it isn’t, considering their relationship.
Annabeth presses two fingers against his spot and rubs -- hard. Percy throws his head back and closes his eyes, exhaling loudly as he comes in his jeans. Annabeth keeps on stroking his spot, causing additional shockwaves of pleasure to flow through him as he comes down from his high.
He’d be embarrassed by how fast he came, like it was his first time all over again, except he thinks that was Annabeth’s goal all along, which is okay with him.
“You know, I only told you about my Achilles’ spot because I thought you’d use the knowledge for good, not evil,” Percy mutters, glaring at her because now he’s tired, he has to sit through twenty more minutes of lecture with wet boxers and jeans, and he really just wants to take Annabeth back to his dorm and fuck her brains out.
“What can I say,” Annabeth says with a broad grin that could rival the Cheshire cat. She pulls her fingers out from under his shirt, and waggles them at him tauntingly. “It’s just much more fun to be evil.”
-
Title: A Dangerous Task
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Prompt: sparring as foreplay
Sparring with Percy is a dangerous task.
Not because he’s one of, if not the best warrior in camp (but she can still kick his ass around the training arena and back) with a blade or because his invulnerability makes him take bigger risks with his sparring partners, so much so that Chiron’s banned anyone but the senior counselors from doing intensive training with him.
No, what makes it dangerous is that Annabeth can’t resist him after a good, rough training session. Nothing gets her hotter faster than the adrenalin rush that comes with trading and blocking fierce blows, or the primal satisfaction that flows through her veins when she manages to knock Percy on his back or gets the upper hand in their fight.
She loves grappling with him, feeling skin and muscle and body slide against each other as they fight for control; loves it when he pins her to the ground, his body hovering triumphantly over hers and his chest heaving, before she flips them and takes back the advantage; loves way he groans under the strain of blocking a strike or when she lands one on him.
The thing she loves most, though, has to be the way he looks at her with that hungry, wanting gleam in his eyes, and knowing that he’s as turned on as she is by all of this. Percy loves the danger and thrill just as much as she does.
It’s a wonder that they’re almost always able to make it back to Percy’s cabin first before one of them jumps the other, and they fuck on whatever surface is available. What happens between them is fucking, pure and simple, because nothing this fierce and wild can be called making love or just plain old sex – it’s an extension of their sparring, minus a few key pieces of clothing and much more pleasurable.
Today, they don’t make it quite that far, stumbling into the weapons shed in-between training sessions, their mouths sealed together and limbs intertwined.
Percy kicks the shed’s door shut and then backs her into the wall, crushing her between the wood and his chest. She winds her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and deeper because she wants to feel everything. He tastes like sweat and dirt, and his kisses are as desperate as his parries were on the battlefield. It’s dark and hot and cramped, and it couldn’t be any better.
His hands immediately go for the button of her jeans and begins fumbling with them, sliding them down her hips and off her legs. He moves briefly so she can step out of them – she leaves her boots on because they really don’t have the time to be worrying about those and besides, Percy likes the way the boots look on her anyway.
She returns the favor, pushing his jeans and boxers down his hips, and freeing his erection. He’s hard and aching for her, just as she’s wet and dripping for him, and Percy’s hand slides to the back of her thigh, lifting it up to his waist. He presses against her, and Annabeth’s center pluses in pleasured agony. They both moan from the feel of the heat and the pressure as Percy rubs himself against her.
He pulls aside her underwear, and then thrusts inside of her. Annabeth gasps, throwing her head back against the wall, and clutching his shoulders tightly as his hard length fills her. Percy begins moving inside her, almost painfully slow and shallow, and not at all what she wants.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasps, sweating beading on his neck. He rotates his hips, circling slowly, tortuously, and Annabeth moans. “So damn tight.”
“Percy,” she gasps, gripping the straps of his armor. She bucks her hips, trying to take more of him in. “Go faster.”
He nods, and then his hands move to grip her ass. He hoists her up higher on the wall and she wraps both her legs around his waist before sliding all the way down on him. Percy lets out a strangled groan and his grip tightens painfully on her ass as he begins thrusting deeper and faster.
Annabeth gasps as he brushes against that spot inside her, and Percy’s eyes darken with lusty recognition. He thrusts hard against that spot, and Annabeth has to bite her lip to keep herself from screaming. Her hips rock desperately, seeking more friction, more pressure as the aching heat builds inside of her. She’s so full, but it’s not enough, not near enough.
She snakes a hand in-between their bodies, finds her clit, and rubs it roughly. It’s just enough to transform that heat into a blazing fire, and moans wordlessly as her orgasm washes over her brutally. Percy lasts just a little longer, thrusting into her erratically and kissing her fiercely before he comes inside her with a hoarse gasp.
They stay like that – wrapped around each other with trembling limbs, heaving chests, and sweaty faces – for several moments as they recover. Percy’s last kiss before he pulls out of her is languid and sweet, and they share a mutual, satisfied grin as he sets her to the ground.
“Ready for another round in the arena, Wise Girl?” he asks breathlessly, pulling up his pants and running a hand through his hair.
“You better believe it, Seaweed Brain,” she says, reaching for her discarded jeans. “And when I win, you’re going to be pinned to the wall.”
“You wish,” he replies, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her close. He kisses her in that way of his that makes her toes curl, and ignites that recently dampened ache once again. At this rate, they might not even make back to the training arena on time, which really isn’t all that much of a problem.
Sparring with Percy might be a dangerous task, but Annabeth wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Date: 2009-12-07 06:52 am (UTC)