Percy Jackson: Character Study
Title: Character Study
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: Percy follows protocol. Annabeth doesn't mind.
A/N: For the pjo_kinkmeme, prompt "Cop!Percy/Annabeth, with handcuffs." Kind of sort of in the same universe as Making the Man? LOOK SOON I WILL POST SOMETHING THAT'S NOT PORN OKAY?
Annabeth gets home before Percy - a fairly rare occurrence, seeing as between the two of them, Annabeth definitely exhibits more workaholic tendencies than Percy ever has - but he’s not far behind her, slamming into the house as she’s kicking off her heels and stripping her stockings down her legs.
Her breath catches when he appears in their bedroom - he’s still in uniform, which is not a sight she gets treated to often seeing as he usually changes before he gets home.
She loves Percy in uniform.
He wears it like a second skin, like it’s a natural part of him, the same way he wears Greek armor, and it highlights all of his best features: his dark hair, his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, his long legs. Annabeth has an artist’s eye, has spent years studying the lines of buildings and diagrams. Appreciating Percy is just as easy.
There’s a hard look on his face, which softens when he sees her. “Hey,” she says softly, padding across their carpet to kiss him, going up on tip-toe. “Rough day?”
Percy shrugs. “Lots of paperwork,” which is Percy-speak, she’s learned, for “Lots of calls today”. They’ve been keeping him busy.
“I’m so sorry,” she says lightly, reaching up to run her fingers through the grey streak in his hair, noticing how he leans into her touch. He sits down heavily on the bed when she goes to hang up her jacket, and when she turns around, catches sight of him - sitting with his feet flat on the floor, his shoulders slumped - she lets out a soft chuckle and crawls into his lap, straddling him.
Automatically, his arms come up around her waist, and she presses a kiss against his mouth, smiling against him as Percy’s mouth opens, drawing her in further. Heat flashes in her stomach and immediately pools between her thighs. When she pulls away he pants her name breathlessly, lets her pull him to his feet and place his hands on her waist, where her shirt is still tucked in.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she murmurs, a smile curling across her face. She’s terrible at this sort of thing, can’t help giggling when she teases. “There’s been a disturbance. I’d feel safer if you checked everything out.”
Percy, to his credit, keeps a straight face, his hands moving to pull her shirt from her waistband, already working the buttons off. “Let’s see what we have here,” he says, entirely serious but for the faintest hint of a smirk, and Annabeth feels the grin on her face grow even bigger, arousal swelling into an ache inside of her. She cranes her head to kiss him again, but Percy remains focus, even businesslike as he disrobes her: popping the buttons on her shirt, pushing it over her shoulders, unhooking her bra with only the smallest amount of fumbling and letting it drop to the floor.
Cool air washes over Annabeth’s chest, tightening her nipples, but Percy runs his hands down her hips and unzips her skirt. The only clue she has that she’s having any affect on him at all is the heat she can feel pressing against her thigh: his erection coming to life, wanting attention.
Before he can get her underwear off she winds her arms around his neck, angling to kiss him, but Percy only waits until she relaxes against him before he strikes; he moves so fast she barely has time to react, and the next thing she knows he has her bent over the footboard of their bed, cold metal ringing her wrist.
“Percy!” she exclaims, mostly by surprise. They’ve only experimented with tying her up once or twice, usually with scarves, never with his handcuffs. She didn’t even see how he got them out so fast. “What are you -”
“Shhh,” he murmurs, kissing her shoulder, slipping her other wrist into the cuff and snapping it shut. “Trust me, this is all protocol.”
Percy’s hands are large and warm, running down her stomach and back up her thighs; unconsciously, Annabeth raises her ass, her breathing unsteady as he kisses her neck and sucks gently at the pulse point below her ear.
When he presses his hips against hers she can feel him pulsing against her, and Annabeth can’t help trying to grind back against him, trying to help relieve the ache that is building between her legs. Percy slips a hand around her hip, between her folds, and Annabeth moans low in her throat, knows she has to already be slick and ready as he rubs slow circles around her clit, slips a finger inside of her. She tries to jerk her hands, wants to guide him to the proper spot, the right rhythm, but she’s firmly restrained against the footboard, helpless to do anything but cry out and rock her hips against his exploring fingers.
“Percy,” she pants, her forehead warm as she drops it on her hands, bracing herself against the footboard. “Please, there, right there.”
“Here?” Percy asks innocently, deliberately moving his finger, shifting into a different rhythm. Annabeth lets out a frustrated groan and bucks her hips, shuddering.
“Just - just -” she tries to tell him, but then Percy moves back to that spot, stroking over her clit and pressing in the right place, and her knees practically go weak with pleasure. “Oh right there. Right there. Don’t stop.”
He mercifully doesn’t this time, letting her fall over the edge, her voice ragged and her knees shaking as he keeps rubbing through the orgasm, until it almost hurts with how good it feels. She slumps over the footboard, convinced that he’s going to uncuff her so that she can fuck him proper, until she hears the zipper of his pants.
“Percy?” she asks, unsure. He hums in pleasure and leans over her. The buttons and pins of his jacket are freezing against her heated skin. She feels wet all over, sweating and dripping down her thighs. Percy’s hand is wet against her breast, cupping her gently and pinching her nipple.
He presses inside of her, and Annabeth initially tenses at the intrusion. He is hard inside of her, pressing right against the perfect place, and when he starts thrusting her eyes almost roll back into her head. Her hands scrabble against the chain, wanting to reach back and touch him, touch herself.
She can’t do anything though, only hold on as Percy controlls the rhythm, her tone rising in pitch as he hits that spot again and again. Percy has his hands on her hips so she can’t even press back against him, has to let him control the entire act, and the ache that has been dampened once already roars back to life inside of her so quickly it’s as if she hasn’t come at all. Once again she is shaking and desperate, nearly begging Percy to make her come.
“Come on,” she urges, “Keep going, right there, right there.”
Annabeth is surprised he can understand her with the way she’s moaning, practically sobbing with need, but Percy groans as he leans over her, picking up his pace. “Yes, Annabeth, yes,” he growls in a broken tone.
She feels like she’s going to fall apart if he doesn’t get her there; once again she pulls at the chains, letting out a frustrating whimper as they clink against the wood of the bed. “Percy please,” she begs. “Please.”
He takes pity on her then, slipping his hand between her thighs once again, almost down to where they’re connected. Skillfully he finds her clit, stroking firmly once, twice, and on the third pass she throws her head back and almost screams as her release erupts, Percy’s arm around her waist the only thing holding her up.
She’s limp as he finishes, shoulders heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Percy presses a kiss between her shoulder blades, his breath hot against her already heated skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs, and Annabeth chuckles in response.
“You too,” she replies, her voice still floaty and far away in the aftershock of her pleasure. “Now uncuff me before I break the bed.”
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: Percy follows protocol. Annabeth doesn't mind.
A/N: For the pjo_kinkmeme, prompt "Cop!Percy/Annabeth, with handcuffs." Kind of sort of in the same universe as Making the Man? LOOK SOON I WILL POST SOMETHING THAT'S NOT PORN OKAY?
Annabeth gets home before Percy - a fairly rare occurrence, seeing as between the two of them, Annabeth definitely exhibits more workaholic tendencies than Percy ever has - but he’s not far behind her, slamming into the house as she’s kicking off her heels and stripping her stockings down her legs.
Her breath catches when he appears in their bedroom - he’s still in uniform, which is not a sight she gets treated to often seeing as he usually changes before he gets home.
She loves Percy in uniform.
He wears it like a second skin, like it’s a natural part of him, the same way he wears Greek armor, and it highlights all of his best features: his dark hair, his broad shoulders, his narrow waist, his long legs. Annabeth has an artist’s eye, has spent years studying the lines of buildings and diagrams. Appreciating Percy is just as easy.
There’s a hard look on his face, which softens when he sees her. “Hey,” she says softly, padding across their carpet to kiss him, going up on tip-toe. “Rough day?”
Percy shrugs. “Lots of paperwork,” which is Percy-speak, she’s learned, for “Lots of calls today”. They’ve been keeping him busy.
“I’m so sorry,” she says lightly, reaching up to run her fingers through the grey streak in his hair, noticing how he leans into her touch. He sits down heavily on the bed when she goes to hang up her jacket, and when she turns around, catches sight of him - sitting with his feet flat on the floor, his shoulders slumped - she lets out a soft chuckle and crawls into his lap, straddling him.
Automatically, his arms come up around her waist, and she presses a kiss against his mouth, smiling against him as Percy’s mouth opens, drawing her in further. Heat flashes in her stomach and immediately pools between her thighs. When she pulls away he pants her name breathlessly, lets her pull him to his feet and place his hands on her waist, where her shirt is still tucked in.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she murmurs, a smile curling across her face. She’s terrible at this sort of thing, can’t help giggling when she teases. “There’s been a disturbance. I’d feel safer if you checked everything out.”
Percy, to his credit, keeps a straight face, his hands moving to pull her shirt from her waistband, already working the buttons off. “Let’s see what we have here,” he says, entirely serious but for the faintest hint of a smirk, and Annabeth feels the grin on her face grow even bigger, arousal swelling into an ache inside of her. She cranes her head to kiss him again, but Percy remains focus, even businesslike as he disrobes her: popping the buttons on her shirt, pushing it over her shoulders, unhooking her bra with only the smallest amount of fumbling and letting it drop to the floor.
Cool air washes over Annabeth’s chest, tightening her nipples, but Percy runs his hands down her hips and unzips her skirt. The only clue she has that she’s having any affect on him at all is the heat she can feel pressing against her thigh: his erection coming to life, wanting attention.
Before he can get her underwear off she winds her arms around his neck, angling to kiss him, but Percy only waits until she relaxes against him before he strikes; he moves so fast she barely has time to react, and the next thing she knows he has her bent over the footboard of their bed, cold metal ringing her wrist.
“Percy!” she exclaims, mostly by surprise. They’ve only experimented with tying her up once or twice, usually with scarves, never with his handcuffs. She didn’t even see how he got them out so fast. “What are you -”
“Shhh,” he murmurs, kissing her shoulder, slipping her other wrist into the cuff and snapping it shut. “Trust me, this is all protocol.”
Percy’s hands are large and warm, running down her stomach and back up her thighs; unconsciously, Annabeth raises her ass, her breathing unsteady as he kisses her neck and sucks gently at the pulse point below her ear.
When he presses his hips against hers she can feel him pulsing against her, and Annabeth can’t help trying to grind back against him, trying to help relieve the ache that is building between her legs. Percy slips a hand around her hip, between her folds, and Annabeth moans low in her throat, knows she has to already be slick and ready as he rubs slow circles around her clit, slips a finger inside of her. She tries to jerk her hands, wants to guide him to the proper spot, the right rhythm, but she’s firmly restrained against the footboard, helpless to do anything but cry out and rock her hips against his exploring fingers.
“Percy,” she pants, her forehead warm as she drops it on her hands, bracing herself against the footboard. “Please, there, right there.”
“Here?” Percy asks innocently, deliberately moving his finger, shifting into a different rhythm. Annabeth lets out a frustrated groan and bucks her hips, shuddering.
“Just - just -” she tries to tell him, but then Percy moves back to that spot, stroking over her clit and pressing in the right place, and her knees practically go weak with pleasure. “Oh right there. Right there. Don’t stop.”
He mercifully doesn’t this time, letting her fall over the edge, her voice ragged and her knees shaking as he keeps rubbing through the orgasm, until it almost hurts with how good it feels. She slumps over the footboard, convinced that he’s going to uncuff her so that she can fuck him proper, until she hears the zipper of his pants.
“Percy?” she asks, unsure. He hums in pleasure and leans over her. The buttons and pins of his jacket are freezing against her heated skin. She feels wet all over, sweating and dripping down her thighs. Percy’s hand is wet against her breast, cupping her gently and pinching her nipple.
He presses inside of her, and Annabeth initially tenses at the intrusion. He is hard inside of her, pressing right against the perfect place, and when he starts thrusting her eyes almost roll back into her head. Her hands scrabble against the chain, wanting to reach back and touch him, touch herself.
She can’t do anything though, only hold on as Percy controlls the rhythm, her tone rising in pitch as he hits that spot again and again. Percy has his hands on her hips so she can’t even press back against him, has to let him control the entire act, and the ache that has been dampened once already roars back to life inside of her so quickly it’s as if she hasn’t come at all. Once again she is shaking and desperate, nearly begging Percy to make her come.
“Come on,” she urges, “Keep going, right there, right there.”
Annabeth is surprised he can understand her with the way she’s moaning, practically sobbing with need, but Percy groans as he leans over her, picking up his pace. “Yes, Annabeth, yes,” he growls in a broken tone.
She feels like she’s going to fall apart if he doesn’t get her there; once again she pulls at the chains, letting out a frustrating whimper as they clink against the wood of the bed. “Percy please,” she begs. “Please.”
He takes pity on her then, slipping his hand between her thighs once again, almost down to where they’re connected. Skillfully he finds her clit, stroking firmly once, twice, and on the third pass she throws her head back and almost screams as her release erupts, Percy’s arm around her waist the only thing holding her up.
She’s limp as he finishes, shoulders heaving as she tries to catch her breath. Percy presses a kiss between her shoulder blades, his breath hot against her already heated skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmurs, and Annabeth chuckles in response.
“You too,” she replies, her voice still floaty and far away in the aftershock of her pleasure. “Now uncuff me before I break the bed.”