Percabeth Dirty One Shots and Drabbles

So Bad But He Does It So Well 3

: wildest dreamsChapter Text

Percy Jackson was a cuddler.

After the night they'd shared, this was last thing Annabeth expected to discover the next morning. She'd believed Percy Jackson to be much too brusque, much too devil may care to curl up with one of his evening conquests; waking with his delightful warm body at her back and his muscled, tattooed arm encircling her waist was a surprise indeed.

She'd half expected to wake up alone, her clothes piled on the edge of the bed, with him awkwardly hiding somewhere in his apartment to avoid seeing her out, like the last boy she'd made the mistake of sleeping with had done. Annabeth was normally not a one night stand type of girl because of moments like that, when she quickly turned into someone's source of shame once the deed was done and the sun had risen.

Percy Jackson, on the other hand, had always seemed the shameless and possibly insensitive sort from the moment she'd laid eyes on him at the beginning of the semester, which was the reason she'd decided to go home with him in the first place, the weeks of building and escalating sexual tension between them aside.

She'd known he was the shameless sort once he'd hoisted her up on the vanity in his dressing room, shoved her dress up, and dropped to his knees to eat her out, making her come apart in moments with just his lips and tongue. The smug shameless sort, if the rakish smirk he'd given her once he'd surfaced from between her trembling thighs was any indication.

Shameless or not, she definitely hadn't anticipated the cuddling. And yet, here she was, cocooned in his soft blue sheets with his deep, even breaths stirring the fine hairs at the back of her neck, the easy rhythm of it nearly lulling her back into an easy sleep. It was sort of comforting to wake up like this, though Annabeth wouldn't delude herself into thinking it changed anything between them. Unconscious spooning was no indication that Percy wanted anything from her aside from one night of getting his hands under her skirts, despite whatever her misguided feelings for him would insist.

It's a pity, though, Annabeth thought as she stretched languorously, feeling every sore muscle in her body ache in satisfaction.

She wouldn't mind repeating last night once or twice. Or several times more, actually. She'd assumed - wrongly, oh so wrongly - that Percy would be more interested in getting himself off than worrying about satisfying his partner. He'd defied her expectations there, too, overwhelmingly so.

He'd been so eager to please her, so desperate to see her come any way he could make her. She remembered every touch of his hands, the skillful caress of his tongue across her skin, the thrill of being filled and stretched and utterly satisfied by his hard length; she flushed, a pleasurable ache developing between her legs as she let the memories and ghost of his touch flood through her. She shifted in his hold, daring to glance at him.

Percy was less sharp and prickly in sleep, the angry lines of his mouth and around his eyes smoothed away into gentle furrows. His dark scruff had thickened slightly over night and his hair was much messier than usual. Annabeth realized, with a heated flush, she'd been the cause of that - she distinctly remembered winding her fingers in his dark locks, urging his mouth harder against her cunt; he'd been mussed and satisfied when he'd surfaced afterward, his chin shiny with her wetness.

She'd been the cause of little bruises littering his neck and collarbone this morning, too. Hungry, desperate groans had escaped him every time she settled her lips on his pulse point; his hands would tighten on her hips and his next thrust would be all that much deeper and harder.

There were faint, pink scratches on his shoulders and probably down his back as well - some of them were hidden by the swirling lines of his tattoos, but enough were visible to deepen Annabeth's blush. She probably had just as many marks on her body, if not more. For every moment she'd had control, Percy had held it for twice as long and made it incredibly incentive for her just to let him keep it. Good thing scarf season was well under way. Annabeth had a feeling she'd need to wear some for the next few days.