Percy Jackson: Quid Pro Quo
Title: Quid Pro Quo
Rating: Technically R (because of adult activities) but hell if I think it's that graphic.
Characters/Pairings: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: Annabeth knows exactly how regain Percy's attention when he gets distracted.
A/N: Written for the pjo_kinkmeme because, yes, I went there, and no, I'm not sorry, although I don't think any of what I wrote is half as bad as what I wrote for fma_ihop. Prompt is under the cut because it's a spoiler for Book 5, The Last Olympian.
Prompt: Percy's Achilles' spot.
Part of the problem with living with ADHD was that sometimes Percy got distracted.
It wasn't really that Annabeth begrudged Percy his ADHD - as a fellow sufferer, she understood the affliction and its challenges, and had experienced its uses in battle. It was that she really thought that Percy's ADHD would have informed him that getting distracted while going down on her would quickly turn into a life threatening situation.
She moaned his name, and reached down to tug his forelock, drawing his attention back to her. His eyes gazed at her from between her legs, and she could still feel his breath blowing softly against her. It was enough to cause a flash of heat in her abdomen - she'd been so close when Percy's lips had started to slow, his tongue started to wander.
There was a question mark written on his face. He probably had no idea what he'd been doing. That was okay with Annabeth - she'd only caught his attention so that he'd be caught off guard.
His arms were looped around her thighs, spread wide to give him access, and with a sigh Annabeth stretched one leg out and let it graze down his back. She felt him stiffen underneath her; his skin was warm and smooth, something she always marvelled at, considering all the fights he'd been in even before he'd become invulnerable.
Then she found it.
The spot on his back didn't feel differently from any other spot on his body, and she knew his body like she knew the three principles from Vitruvius' De architectura. She would have known his Achilles' spot if she were blindfolded and wearing oven mitts, and not just from the way Percy reacted when she brushed her toes over it.
His grip on her thighs tightened, almost painfully, enough for her to let out a whimper that was lost behind the strangled groan he let out as she repeated the act - a little more firmly, making it clear that the first time wasn't an accident. He buried his face in the juncture between her hip and her leg and let out a whine that sounded suspiciously like her name. His body spasmed beneath her, rubbing himself against the bed they were sprawled across, and she knew the movements were entirely involuntary.
"Percy," she whispered, just loudly enough to regain his attention. Her voice was deep and hoarse in a way she didn't recognize. The look on his face was almost pained - an external reflection of how she'd felt just moments ago when his attention had wandered. "It'll be your turn," she promised, "as soon as you finish up."
He dove in with renewed fervor; in silent promise, she kept her toes pressed against the small of his back until they curled.
Rating: Technically R (because of adult activities) but hell if I think it's that graphic.
Characters/Pairings: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: Annabeth knows exactly how regain Percy's attention when he gets distracted.
A/N: Written for the pjo_kinkmeme because, yes, I went there, and no, I'm not sorry, although I don't think any of what I wrote is half as bad as what I wrote for fma_ihop. Prompt is under the cut because it's a spoiler for Book 5, The Last Olympian.
Prompt: Percy's Achilles' spot.
Part of the problem with living with ADHD was that sometimes Percy got distracted.
It wasn't really that Annabeth begrudged Percy his ADHD - as a fellow sufferer, she understood the affliction and its challenges, and had experienced its uses in battle. It was that she really thought that Percy's ADHD would have informed him that getting distracted while going down on her would quickly turn into a life threatening situation.
She moaned his name, and reached down to tug his forelock, drawing his attention back to her. His eyes gazed at her from between her legs, and she could still feel his breath blowing softly against her. It was enough to cause a flash of heat in her abdomen - she'd been so close when Percy's lips had started to slow, his tongue started to wander.
There was a question mark written on his face. He probably had no idea what he'd been doing. That was okay with Annabeth - she'd only caught his attention so that he'd be caught off guard.
His arms were looped around her thighs, spread wide to give him access, and with a sigh Annabeth stretched one leg out and let it graze down his back. She felt him stiffen underneath her; his skin was warm and smooth, something she always marvelled at, considering all the fights he'd been in even before he'd become invulnerable.
Then she found it.
The spot on his back didn't feel differently from any other spot on his body, and she knew his body like she knew the three principles from Vitruvius' De architectura. She would have known his Achilles' spot if she were blindfolded and wearing oven mitts, and not just from the way Percy reacted when she brushed her toes over it.
His grip on her thighs tightened, almost painfully, enough for her to let out a whimper that was lost behind the strangled groan he let out as she repeated the act - a little more firmly, making it clear that the first time wasn't an accident. He buried his face in the juncture between her hip and her leg and let out a whine that sounded suspiciously like her name. His body spasmed beneath her, rubbing himself against the bed they were sprawled across, and she knew the movements were entirely involuntary.
"Percy," she whispered, just loudly enough to regain his attention. Her voice was deep and hoarse in a way she didn't recognize. The look on his face was almost pained - an external reflection of how she'd felt just moments ago when his attention had wandered. "It'll be your turn," she promised, "as soon as you finish up."
He dove in with renewed fervor; in silent promise, she kept her toes pressed against the small of his back until they curled.