fic: Recipe For ... [PJO, Percy/Annabeth, R]
Title: Recipe For ...
Rating: R for sexual content
Characters/Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Summary: Percy and Annabeth have some fun in the kitchen.
Notes: Some P/A fluff/mild smut for everyone on my f-list who had a crappy week. Not compliant with TLH at all. ;)
Recipe For ...
“I really don’t think ‘get flour all over yourself and make yourself look like an idiot’ was a part of the recipe’s directions, Seaweed Brain.”
Percy sneezed and shot a glare at Annabeth, who smirked over her shoulder as she slid the cookie sheet into the oven.
“It’s not my fault the mixer decided to make everything explode,” he said, glancing at the offending machine as he wiped his hands on a spare towel. “But otherwise, I followed all the instructions. They should turn out okay. Hopefully.”
Annabeth closed the oven door and turned around. Her clothes were nearly pristine, as she’d been in the living room when his flour catastrophe had occurred. Annabeth was supposed to be making four dozen cookies for her school’s bake sale tomorrow, but Percy had kicked her out of the kitchen the instant she’d started meddling around. It’d taken him long enough to decipher all the instructions correctly with his dyslexia acting up; he didn’t need her confusing him with her suggestions to “improve” his mother’s recipe.
Annabeth was bad luck whenever it came to baking and although Percy loved her quite a bit, she was the last person he wanted around when experimenting in the kitchen. He had let her come to back in to help him place the cookie dough on the sheet because she’d been complaining about not helping out and he supposed there was no way she could screw that up.
“You better hope they’re more than okay,” she replied, hands on her hips. “I can’t sell mediocre cookies, you know. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Percy arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Weren’t you just saying, like, an hour ago that it was sexist and rude to assume all women could bake? And that you couldn’t care less if you’d never be able to make cookies and that the cranky old nuns could shove their bake sales up their - ”
“You’ve got flour on your neck,” she interrupted matter-of-factly, stepping closer to him. “Let me get it for you.”
Percy expected her to brush the flour away with her thumb; instead, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, pressing her mouth against the hollow of his throat. He shivered as she drew her tongue up in a slow, wet strip up to his Adam’s apple where she placed another soft kiss. She pulled away, her smile positively sinful.
“Better,” she said confidently.
“There wasn’t any flour on my neck, was there?” he replied, threading his fingers through her belt loops and pulling her closer to him. He leaned back against the counter, spreading his legs so she could step between them.
“No. But there’s some here,” Annabeth said, kissing his cheek. “And here.” Her lips touched the base of his ear and he groaned in approval when she nipped at his earlobe. “And definitely here.”
Her lips settled on his and Percy hummed in approval. If anyone would let him, he’d kiss Annabeth all day - he loved the way her lips felt against his, her warm, sweet taste, and how she made him breathless without even trying.
It was easy to forget everything when he was with her ...
... which was probably not a good idea with cookies in the oven.
She was insistent, softly demanding as her tongue explored his mouth, and she began to tug at his black sweater, dragging it upwards. Percy pulled away momentarily.
“Wait,” he murmured, his eyes darting over to the oven. “We shouldn’t. I need to watch the - ”
“Relax, Percy,” Annabeth said, raking her nails up the center of his abdomen as she pulled his sweater up. “I didn’t even turn the oven on.”
She grinned and kissed him again. It so figured Annabeth would use her time in exile from the kitchen to plot the best way to get him cornered and shirtless.
But Percy didn’t have a problem with that plan, and they broke apart so so she could pull his sweater over his head. She threw it on the counter and they both grinned when it landed on top of the dirty mixer.
“You’re cleaning that up,” he said, threading one hand through her ponytail and pulling her in for another kiss.
With his free hand, he tried to pull her uniform shirt out of her pants so he wasn’t only the shirtless one in the kitchen, but Annabeth wrapped her hand around his wrist and set it back on the counter.
“I guess,” she replied playfully. “But first I have to clean you up.”
If that cheesy line had come out of anyone else’s mouth, Percy would’ve laughed himself sick. But seeing Annabeth’s playful side was something new and exciting … and definitely sexy, as the sudden tightness of his jeans could attest to.
She ran her hands up his stomach lightly, her fingers catching in his chest hair, and it was like her touch was lighting fires everywhere it went. Percy moaned softly as she stroked down his back and then up again, coming back around touch his shoulders and arms, miming brushing his shoulders off. Some flour had managed to get under his collar, so maybe she wasn’t being entirely cheesy.
She pressed her lips to his collar bone, glancing up at him.
Her grey eyes were the color of smoke and she catalogued each of his reactions to her touch, filing it away for later use. That beautiful brain of hers was probably already rolling with hundreds of scenarios and plots she could use to -
Percy’s brain short circuited when Annabeth bent her head and flattened her tongue over his nipple, sending a flare of pleasure straight to his groin. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him - that was an entirely new sensation.
Annabeth didn’t pause, flickering her tongue back and forth until Percy was panting loudly, trying not to pull too hard on her hair. His grip on the counter-top went white-knuckled when she took the bud into her mouth and sucked, and Percy thought he might die from pleasure right there. Their make-out sessions had been good before now, but nothing like this.
“Annabeth,” he moaned, trying to draw her up into another kiss. She wasn’t having any of that, though.
She let go his nipple with an obscene smack and then - then her lips and tongue started trailing down, down, down his torso, pausing to pay special, teasing attention to the creases of his stomach muscle.
And oh gods, he’d been so focused on her mouth, he hadn’t even been paying attention to what her hands were doing. When, exactly, had she gotten his jeans unbuttoned? Was she really going to ... ?
Percy hissed as her fingers slipped below the elastic waistband of his boxers and she wrapped her hand around his hard, heavy length. She stroked him slowly, maybe a little unsurely, but Percy didn’t care in the slightest because his girlfriend was touching him below the belt for the first time ever and it felt mind numbingly amazing, so much better than when he did it.
He groaned, the pleasurable sensations overwhelming him, and closed his eyes briefly, fighting to regain the remainders of his self-control. Annabeth, however, was doing everything in her power to make him forget that and he started when her tongue circled his navel. She stilled and moved her hand upwards; he opened his eyes and Annabeth was on her knees in front of him, mouth poised just above the waistband of his boxers, hands shoving his flour-covered jeans a little lower on his hips.
“Do you want me to, Percy?” she asked, fingers caressing the taut skin of his lower stomach. Percy wasn’t sure if he has imagining the feel of her hot breath through his clothing or not, but it was making him dizzy all the same. He was surprised he was still standing, considering he was sure all the blood in his body had rushed south and his knees were shaking.
“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a hoarse laugh, surprised by how low and rough his voice sounded. His hand trembled as he stroked her cheek. “Only if you want to.”
Annabeth turned her head and kissed his wrist, her intentions clear. Percy’s cock throbbed eagerly as she freed it from the confines of his clothing and he sucked in a breath as she lowered her head and then -
Then Percy heard the sound of keys scrabbling in the lock at the front door and a moment later his mother’s voice rang through the apartment, “Percy. I’m home!”
Annabeth’s eyes went wide and she shot to her feet, nearly toppling over in her haste; Percy swore under his breath, shoving himself back into his pants. His dick didn’t seem to think his mom walking in was that much of a mood killer though and he tried to think of every horrible, unsexy thing as he could, but that was almost impossible with Annabeth nearby, running her hand through her hair, her face flushed and as red as a tomato.
Their eyes met and she hissed, “Your shirt, Seaweed Brain!”
Percy made a grab for his sweater and started tugging it over his head as his mother called out his name again.
“We’re in the kitchen, Mrs. Jackson!” Annabeth replied breathlessly, reaching over to snap on the oven.
A sort of strangled noise escaped his throat as he heard his mother’s footsteps in the hallway His damn sweater was not going on, caught on his ear or something, and he couldn’t find the left arm hole -
He heard something clatter on the floor and then Annabeth’s hands were on his shoulders, shoving him below the counter. He peeked up at her and her glare clearly said Stay down there until you get yourself in order, dork.
Just seconds later, his mother’s heels clicked on the tile on the other side and Annabeth’s attention refocused.
“Hello Annabeth,” Sally said warmly. “Baking something?”
“Chocolate chip cookies,” Annabeth replied a little breathlessly but otherwise composed. Percy finally got his sweater over his head and smoothed it down his torso. “There’s a bake sale at St. Catherine’s tomorrow, and the sisters want us all to make something. Percy offered to help out.”
“Speaking of my son, did he leave you in here alone? You know I like you, dear, but you have an unfortunate habit of ruining kitchens.”
Crap, how was he going to explain this one away without getting in trouble? His mother was pretty sharp and popping out of nowhere was going to set off some alarms.
Next to him, Annabeth’s foot tapped on the ground, a subtle signal, and Percy noticed two spatulas that had fallen off the counter. He grinned. His girlfriend was brilliant.
“Oh, he’s - ”
“Right here,” Percy said, straightening up, spatulas in hand. He handed them to Annabeth and frowned. “Be less clumsy next time, will you, Wise Girl? Hi Mom.”
Sally’s eyes flickered over to him and Percy gulped as they narrowed. Oh gods, she knew, she knew, she -
“Percy, how on earth did you manage to get flour in your hair?” she said disapprovingly. She scanned the mess in the kitchen. “You know there’s a guard for the mixer, right? To prevent these sorts of messes?”
“Um, no?”
Sally sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Her smile was affectionate, but just a tad exasperated. Percy causing normal household messes that didn’t have anything to do with monster guts and ruined drywall was a new experience for them both.
“Well, just keep that in mind. I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Make sure you keep an eye on the oven this time, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson,” Annabeth said, picking up one of the discarded towels and starting to wipe down the counter.
She kept the pretense of cleaning up until Sally turned and left the kitchen. Percy let out a huff of breath, losing the tension in his shoulders, and leaned on the counter. He smiled lazily at Annabeth, who had put her head in her hands and was trying not to giggle.
“Boy, that was - ”
“Oh, and Percy?”
Sally had poked her head back around the doorway. Her eyes were glittering with a terrible sort of amusement, the type parents always got when they knew they were about to embarrass their children out of their minds, and dread settled in the pit of Percy’s stomach.
“Next time you try to hide the fact you and Annabeth were making out in my kitchen, make sure you zip your pants and put your shirt on the right way, okay?”
Rating: R for sexual content
Characters/Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Summary: Percy and Annabeth have some fun in the kitchen.
Notes: Some P/A fluff/mild smut for everyone on my f-list who had a crappy week. Not compliant with TLH at all. ;)
Recipe For ...
“I really don’t think ‘get flour all over yourself and make yourself look like an idiot’ was a part of the recipe’s directions, Seaweed Brain.”
Percy sneezed and shot a glare at Annabeth, who smirked over her shoulder as she slid the cookie sheet into the oven.
“It’s not my fault the mixer decided to make everything explode,” he said, glancing at the offending machine as he wiped his hands on a spare towel. “But otherwise, I followed all the instructions. They should turn out okay. Hopefully.”
Annabeth closed the oven door and turned around. Her clothes were nearly pristine, as she’d been in the living room when his flour catastrophe had occurred. Annabeth was supposed to be making four dozen cookies for her school’s bake sale tomorrow, but Percy had kicked her out of the kitchen the instant she’d started meddling around. It’d taken him long enough to decipher all the instructions correctly with his dyslexia acting up; he didn’t need her confusing him with her suggestions to “improve” his mother’s recipe.
Annabeth was bad luck whenever it came to baking and although Percy loved her quite a bit, she was the last person he wanted around when experimenting in the kitchen. He had let her come to back in to help him place the cookie dough on the sheet because she’d been complaining about not helping out and he supposed there was no way she could screw that up.
“You better hope they’re more than okay,” she replied, hands on her hips. “I can’t sell mediocre cookies, you know. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Percy arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Weren’t you just saying, like, an hour ago that it was sexist and rude to assume all women could bake? And that you couldn’t care less if you’d never be able to make cookies and that the cranky old nuns could shove their bake sales up their - ”
“You’ve got flour on your neck,” she interrupted matter-of-factly, stepping closer to him. “Let me get it for you.”
Percy expected her to brush the flour away with her thumb; instead, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, pressing her mouth against the hollow of his throat. He shivered as she drew her tongue up in a slow, wet strip up to his Adam’s apple where she placed another soft kiss. She pulled away, her smile positively sinful.
“Better,” she said confidently.
“There wasn’t any flour on my neck, was there?” he replied, threading his fingers through her belt loops and pulling her closer to him. He leaned back against the counter, spreading his legs so she could step between them.
“No. But there’s some here,” Annabeth said, kissing his cheek. “And here.” Her lips touched the base of his ear and he groaned in approval when she nipped at his earlobe. “And definitely here.”
Her lips settled on his and Percy hummed in approval. If anyone would let him, he’d kiss Annabeth all day - he loved the way her lips felt against his, her warm, sweet taste, and how she made him breathless without even trying.
It was easy to forget everything when he was with her ...
... which was probably not a good idea with cookies in the oven.
She was insistent, softly demanding as her tongue explored his mouth, and she began to tug at his black sweater, dragging it upwards. Percy pulled away momentarily.
“Wait,” he murmured, his eyes darting over to the oven. “We shouldn’t. I need to watch the - ”
“Relax, Percy,” Annabeth said, raking her nails up the center of his abdomen as she pulled his sweater up. “I didn’t even turn the oven on.”
She grinned and kissed him again. It so figured Annabeth would use her time in exile from the kitchen to plot the best way to get him cornered and shirtless.
But Percy didn’t have a problem with that plan, and they broke apart so so she could pull his sweater over his head. She threw it on the counter and they both grinned when it landed on top of the dirty mixer.
“You’re cleaning that up,” he said, threading one hand through her ponytail and pulling her in for another kiss.
With his free hand, he tried to pull her uniform shirt out of her pants so he wasn’t only the shirtless one in the kitchen, but Annabeth wrapped her hand around his wrist and set it back on the counter.
“I guess,” she replied playfully. “But first I have to clean you up.”
If that cheesy line had come out of anyone else’s mouth, Percy would’ve laughed himself sick. But seeing Annabeth’s playful side was something new and exciting … and definitely sexy, as the sudden tightness of his jeans could attest to.
She ran her hands up his stomach lightly, her fingers catching in his chest hair, and it was like her touch was lighting fires everywhere it went. Percy moaned softly as she stroked down his back and then up again, coming back around touch his shoulders and arms, miming brushing his shoulders off. Some flour had managed to get under his collar, so maybe she wasn’t being entirely cheesy.
She pressed her lips to his collar bone, glancing up at him.
Her grey eyes were the color of smoke and she catalogued each of his reactions to her touch, filing it away for later use. That beautiful brain of hers was probably already rolling with hundreds of scenarios and plots she could use to -
Percy’s brain short circuited when Annabeth bent her head and flattened her tongue over his nipple, sending a flare of pleasure straight to his groin. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him - that was an entirely new sensation.
Annabeth didn’t pause, flickering her tongue back and forth until Percy was panting loudly, trying not to pull too hard on her hair. His grip on the counter-top went white-knuckled when she took the bud into her mouth and sucked, and Percy thought he might die from pleasure right there. Their make-out sessions had been good before now, but nothing like this.
“Annabeth,” he moaned, trying to draw her up into another kiss. She wasn’t having any of that, though.
She let go his nipple with an obscene smack and then - then her lips and tongue started trailing down, down, down his torso, pausing to pay special, teasing attention to the creases of his stomach muscle.
And oh gods, he’d been so focused on her mouth, he hadn’t even been paying attention to what her hands were doing. When, exactly, had she gotten his jeans unbuttoned? Was she really going to ... ?
Percy hissed as her fingers slipped below the elastic waistband of his boxers and she wrapped her hand around his hard, heavy length. She stroked him slowly, maybe a little unsurely, but Percy didn’t care in the slightest because his girlfriend was touching him below the belt for the first time ever and it felt mind numbingly amazing, so much better than when he did it.
He groaned, the pleasurable sensations overwhelming him, and closed his eyes briefly, fighting to regain the remainders of his self-control. Annabeth, however, was doing everything in her power to make him forget that and he started when her tongue circled his navel. She stilled and moved her hand upwards; he opened his eyes and Annabeth was on her knees in front of him, mouth poised just above the waistband of his boxers, hands shoving his flour-covered jeans a little lower on his hips.
“Do you want me to, Percy?” she asked, fingers caressing the taut skin of his lower stomach. Percy wasn’t sure if he has imagining the feel of her hot breath through his clothing or not, but it was making him dizzy all the same. He was surprised he was still standing, considering he was sure all the blood in his body had rushed south and his knees were shaking.
“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a hoarse laugh, surprised by how low and rough his voice sounded. His hand trembled as he stroked her cheek. “Only if you want to.”
Annabeth turned her head and kissed his wrist, her intentions clear. Percy’s cock throbbed eagerly as she freed it from the confines of his clothing and he sucked in a breath as she lowered her head and then -
Then Percy heard the sound of keys scrabbling in the lock at the front door and a moment later his mother’s voice rang through the apartment, “Percy. I’m home!”
Annabeth’s eyes went wide and she shot to her feet, nearly toppling over in her haste; Percy swore under his breath, shoving himself back into his pants. His dick didn’t seem to think his mom walking in was that much of a mood killer though and he tried to think of every horrible, unsexy thing as he could, but that was almost impossible with Annabeth nearby, running her hand through her hair, her face flushed and as red as a tomato.
Their eyes met and she hissed, “Your shirt, Seaweed Brain!”
Percy made a grab for his sweater and started tugging it over his head as his mother called out his name again.
“We’re in the kitchen, Mrs. Jackson!” Annabeth replied breathlessly, reaching over to snap on the oven.
A sort of strangled noise escaped his throat as he heard his mother’s footsteps in the hallway His damn sweater was not going on, caught on his ear or something, and he couldn’t find the left arm hole -
He heard something clatter on the floor and then Annabeth’s hands were on his shoulders, shoving him below the counter. He peeked up at her and her glare clearly said Stay down there until you get yourself in order, dork.
Just seconds later, his mother’s heels clicked on the tile on the other side and Annabeth’s attention refocused.
“Hello Annabeth,” Sally said warmly. “Baking something?”
“Chocolate chip cookies,” Annabeth replied a little breathlessly but otherwise composed. Percy finally got his sweater over his head and smoothed it down his torso. “There’s a bake sale at St. Catherine’s tomorrow, and the sisters want us all to make something. Percy offered to help out.”
“Speaking of my son, did he leave you in here alone? You know I like you, dear, but you have an unfortunate habit of ruining kitchens.”
Crap, how was he going to explain this one away without getting in trouble? His mother was pretty sharp and popping out of nowhere was going to set off some alarms.
Next to him, Annabeth’s foot tapped on the ground, a subtle signal, and Percy noticed two spatulas that had fallen off the counter. He grinned. His girlfriend was brilliant.
“Oh, he’s - ”
“Right here,” Percy said, straightening up, spatulas in hand. He handed them to Annabeth and frowned. “Be less clumsy next time, will you, Wise Girl? Hi Mom.”
Sally’s eyes flickered over to him and Percy gulped as they narrowed. Oh gods, she knew, she knew, she -
“Percy, how on earth did you manage to get flour in your hair?” she said disapprovingly. She scanned the mess in the kitchen. “You know there’s a guard for the mixer, right? To prevent these sorts of messes?”
“Um, no?”
Sally sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Her smile was affectionate, but just a tad exasperated. Percy causing normal household messes that didn’t have anything to do with monster guts and ruined drywall was a new experience for them both.
“Well, just keep that in mind. I’m going to go lie down for a bit. Make sure you keep an eye on the oven this time, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Jackson,” Annabeth said, picking up one of the discarded towels and starting to wipe down the counter.
She kept the pretense of cleaning up until Sally turned and left the kitchen. Percy let out a huff of breath, losing the tension in his shoulders, and leaned on the counter. He smiled lazily at Annabeth, who had put her head in her hands and was trying not to giggle.
“Boy, that was - ”
“Oh, and Percy?”
Sally had poked her head back around the doorway. Her eyes were glittering with a terrible sort of amusement, the type parents always got when they knew they were about to embarrass their children out of their minds, and dread settled in the pit of Percy’s stomach.
“Next time you try to hide the fact you and Annabeth were making out in my kitchen, make sure you zip your pants and put your shirt on the right way, okay?”