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hippocrene oneshot requests

please stay, hippocrene

🌶️ warning: excerpt contains mild sexual context

Percy swallowed slowly. Suddenly he wasn’t so enthusiastic about staying down here forever and living off of seaweed and rocks. “I won’t.” he promised, beginning to sit up. “Should we head back up now?”

“Well... hold on. Maybe I was worrying too much.” She laid her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down. There was a new mischievous air to her tone. “We already came all the way down here. There’s something else we could do before we leave.”

“Like what?”

“Like something we did a long time ago. Something that only we can do.”

He had no idea what she was getting at, which made him feel even dumber. “Huh?”

She looked at him with a wry smirk that said, ‘Ugh, do I have to do everything around here?’ And then she climbed onto his lap.

Annabeth straddled his hips comfortably and easily, slipping into place perched on top of his body. Eyes widening, cheeks dashed with a growing pool of red, Percy gulped as her half-lidded gaze settled on his face, a gaze that was undeniably dirty in nature.

“Percy...” she whispered sultrily, her hands smoothing over his chest. “Are you really not gonna make a move on me?”

“... Uh, you mean right now?” he questioned, gesturing to the dome of air and the wide spread of saltwater all around them. “Down here?”

“No, I mean back on the beach where everyone can see.” she droned with blatant sarcasm. “Yes, down here.”

“Oh... wait, was that your plan all along, or is this a spur-of-the-moment thing?”

Perhaps losing her patience, Annabeth bent downwards and levied his lips into bold and greedy kiss, a fast and torrid attack against which he bore no defense or rejection. Tongues met, breaths shuddered, vigor surged within his loins and he groaned a sigh of hot air into her mouth. Percy set his hands over hips as they rowed softly over his crotch, brows tightening from the pleasure of her motions.

And the kiss was as brief as it was forceful. Annabeth withdrew from his mouth to a soft puckering noise and leaned back all the way into her previous upright position.

In a voice whose sensual notes could hypnotize an army, she proposed, “do you wanna keep asking questions when you could be fooling around with me instead?”

80k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

read on ao3

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‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains non-explicit sexual content) ‧˚⭒

Breathlessly, he asks, “... Annabeth, are we—?” “Percy, I don’t know, just kiss me more—” And she tangles her hand throughout his hair and urges him back against her lips. Percy groans as they make contact, his eyes falling shut once more. She’s still touching his leg, she’s squeezing it now and he’s dizzy with desire. He never knew what a turn-on it could be to have a girl grip his thigh, to feel her fingers curled into his hair as she kisses him forcefully—but gods, it’s driving him crazy. Is he allowed to just surrender to this feeling? Annabeth did give him an answer. And he is nothing if not inclined to oblige her request. Mindlessly, his hand reaches for her waist. He isn’t thinking at all—he just wants more of Annabeth. And he caresses her with that adventurous hand—slowly, shakily, over the fabric of her shirt, and then he leans even further into the kiss. With his other hand he grasps her jaw, holding her steady against his lips as they part further and entrap her own in the push of his greedy kiss. Moaning softly, she grips his thigh tighter. In this moment, Percy has never felt more that Annabeth is his and that he belongs to her. Every simmering slip of impassioned tongue and lustful sigh into each other’s mouths empowers the truth that they belong together. His head is swimming from the thrill of touch—it feels so, so good. Her tongue has this way of pressing against his that feels so right, so sensual, so... adult, and he shudders in relief when she does it again. But he’s keeping up, too—smoothing his tongue along her bottom lip, clutching her shirt tightly when she hums in return because he’s eager to give her everything she wants tenfold. Faster, deeper, their tongues trade lusts in frantic glissandos and her airy moans resound in his ears— “Mmph, Percy—” “—Annabeth,” he murmurs urgently, sparing only a second to breathe between kisses before diving back for more. He increasingly depends on his limited instincts, obeying every impulse that commands his body. Wordlessly, their position changes; Annabeth slowly leans back onto the bed and Percy then falls along with her. In hovering over her like this, he’s reminded of their earliest days at Camp Half-Blood sparring together. He still remembers the very first time that he got the best of her, when he’d swung his sword with too much force and knocked her clean onto her back. Percy had rushed to the ground so as to straddle her there, his irreverent sword pointed at her bronze breastplate. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get back up. At the time, he’d felt nothing more than childish pride in finally overcoming the acclaimed Annabeth Chase (and a subsequent lick of fear that she might kill him in his sleep). Only now does he recognize the animal excitement of being on top of a girl like this—on a bed, no less. Her legs spread wider until they take hold of his hips, a touch which summons one tantalizing thought: ‘She wants me here. Between her thighs.’ He didn’t often risk such indulgent thoughts, because he didn’t want to be alone in experiencing them. If Annabeth had ever wanted him that way, she either hid it too well, or he’d been too dense to grasp any number of her hints. Both options seemed equally likely, lending no outlet for his indecent desires. So the odes of lust that he’d sung for her in past were always quickly silenced through sheer willpower. He never let them reach their final note, he didn’t let dirty thoughts become full, lecherous fantasies. Not after a particularly brutal incident some years ago, a summer evening at camp by the lake boardwalk. She wore a tank top that her chest had outgrown the summer before, because a Stoll prank gone wrong had burned most of her clothes. Percy’s gaze had lingered for seconds too long, and then the image of her chest wouldn’t leave his mind. It distracted him as he tried to sleep, flashed across his eyelids each time they closed. He hadn’t stood a chance against his urges that night, succumbing to them twice over in an empty Cabin Three...

Summary: In Frank's eyes, Percy and Annabeth are the perfect demigod couple. They're grown, they're engaged, and they've overcome so much together. Feeling helpless in escalating his own relationship to their coveted adult achievements, he seeks out Percy's help. Unbeknownst to Frank, Percy and Annabeth are grappling with some intimacy struggles of their own.

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3 (warning: contains mildly suggestive text) ‧˚⭒

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he admitted. “Hey, what’s with the skirt?”

As though he’d just brought up a sore topic, she groaned exasperatedly. “I spilled coffee all over the one I was wearing earlier. Had to run to an Abercrombie near the office, and this was the best they had.”

“You look hot,” Percy said without an ounce of shame. “You should wear it more often.”

She was flabbergasted—and she looked down at herself in disbelief. “Wh... this? It’s just a black skirt, Percy.”

“So? You look really good.”

“No, you just have a dirty mind.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but he still caught a subtle smile on her lips, the curl of which was quite alluring. Coupled with that skirt of hers, and his impulses were already taking control.

Percy swung his legs over the edge of bed so that he sat where Annabeth stood. Reaching slightly upwards, his hands came upon her slender waist as a devious grin melted over his lips. “So, you sure you don’t wanna go to Spain?”

Grinning wryly, her adoring fingers surfed throughout his pitch black hair. “I’m sure, Percy.”

“Think about it for a second, though.” Sitting still, he leered upwards. There was ample fondness in his eyes, as well as a certain mischievous glimmer. “Close your eyes, come on. I’ll help you picture it.”

“Percy, we really can’t go—”

“Humor me.”

She stared down at him with great skepticism—but not for long; as always, those smirking lips betrayed her façade of maturity. Even at their most puerile, Annabeth could rarely resist his pointless games. He preferred the blame on a slight suspicion that she might have a thing for him. Maybe just a little bit.

This romance had endured almost ten years so far, and he was more certain of their everlasting love than he was certain of anything else in this life; however, something he had come to understand over the years (and especially in these dreary graduate days), was that a calm, stable love life had to be fueled like an engine, nourished like the body, and tended to like a garden. It was different from the fiery love of their tumultuous youth, who was its own distinct and tireless beast—a beast with fangs and bleeding claws that slashed through villains seeking its destruction. It had been violent by force; summer after summer and year after year, there had always been something standing in the way of their peaceful romance: the gods, the monsters, the prophecies, and all else, as if the universe couldn’t stand to see himself and Annabeth together.

And so the stubborn violence of their mutual love was supercharged by sheer defiance to their enemies. It was a powerful feeling. It was the most perfectly juvenile ‘you-and-me-against-the-world’ sort of sentiment, one that curdled in their veins like staggers of adrenaline and kept them alive through numerous devastations. When you were constantly risking everything for the person you love—constantly in the thick of some earth-shaking conflict—it was quite impossible to go without knowing, ‘I am loved by you. I’m loved by you so much.’

... But that was no way to live. And how could you depend on love that’s only breathed in the harshest of climates? Percy found the real test in the fair-weather days, in truly cherishing the monotony of conventional adulthood with one person, the same person, for the rest of his life. He knew that he wanted to be with Annabeth forever, and his heart had known it long before his oblivious brain ever had, but “forever” was something abstract and immaterial; it had to be actualized brick-by-brick, day-by-day, over the course of a hopefully long lifetime.

So now, as temperate adults with fairly normal lives (barring the occasional monster attack or godly interruption), they had to nurture their love with manual affections. Like any other normal couple. And it really hadn’t been such a difficult transition; consistent displays of casual tenderness came naturally to them. Percy brewed her morning coffee in the exact way that she liked, or he washed her favorite thermos without being asked. She helped him with school when all sense was dethroned by ADHD, she kissed him in the morning before dashing off to work. He always touched her like something sacred. She made him feel so needed and important. If “forever” could only be like this, forever, then he was all the more eager to be her husband for the rest of his days.

[ ... ]

read on ao3 ⭒ 31k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains suggestive text + mentions of kissing) ‧˚⭒

Frank eventually sputtered, “I’m... I’m just gonna try to explain what happened, and you can just tell me to shut up when it’s TMI, okay?” “Okay.” Percy said. He lowered his voice even more. Shadows from the gray sky made it seem like he was about to tell a ghost story. “Last night, things with Hazel got kind of... weird...” “Weird?” “Yeah... weird.” “How weird?” “We... we were kissing.” “Oh.” Percy blinked. That’s not where he thought this was going. “Okay. Uh... do you guys not usually do that, or—” “No, no, we’ve kissed before. But this time, we really kissed. A lot. Like, we were making out. And it was great.” Out of respect, Percy tried not to visibly grimace. No offense to either of them, but Hazel was like a little sister to him, and it felt really strange to hear Frank talk of her like that. It just wasn't something that he wished to visualize. “Okay,” he said calmly. Really. He was trying his best to be calm. “And?” “Well...” Frank twiddled his thumbs. “We’ve never done that before. And it got really intense, and I... I kind of reacted to it too much.” Now, here was some telling information, finally. Percy felt like he was starting to understand what his friend was getting at. But... their first time making out? Last night? Really? Percy’s free time was quite limited, and he spent approximately zero seconds of his days thinking about what other people in his circle did behind closed doors. He’s a--‘That’s none of my business.’--type of guy, to the extent that Annabeth was often irritated by his lack of interest in demigod drama. She’d come to him with fresh, riveting gossip like, “Did you hear? Sherman and Miranda got caught in the Big House together.” and he’d have little more to say than, “I forgot they were dating.”

Like... sure, he figured that the couples he knew of were sleeping together. He could even surmise that the singles he knew of might be sleeping together. But... so what? They’re adults, now; it’s not really all that scandalous or interesting, and in fact, people not sleeping together seemed a lot more noteworthy than the alternative. So to hear that Frank and Hazel had never even made out before... not only was it noteworthy, considering how long they’ve been together, but it was so surprising that he needed to know more in spite of his discomfort with the sordid subject matter. Is this why people like gossip? “... Wait,” Percy started nervously. “What do you mean you ‘reacted too much’?” Frank blushed, which made Percy even more nervous. “Um... Hazel was, well, we were on the couch, and we just finished a movie, and we were just really close, and I kind of— “Oh gods, Frank, you didn’t... do that, did you?”

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3 (warning: contains descriptions of kissing) ‧˚⭒

... If a cherished romance should nourish the soul, then his heart was sick from its own fullness. Her kiss ushers melodies of tireless love, and the decadent warmth of her soft, pink lips makes his heart tremor with its melodious hymns. As his body caves to the soul of her lyrics, Percy forfeits himself to this overwhelming bliss, kissing her back slowly, sweetly, gently, as though the task were as delicate as a soft whisper. Of the few thoughts he can capably sustain, Percy considers the blessing that it is to be alive. The privilege of surviving again and again, defying each and every odd, and somehow making it here—to this, the miracle of adulthood and the chance of moving forward. He’s an eighteen year old son of Poseidon, he’s finally in college, and he can kiss the girl that he loves in her own bedroom. This is his reprisal; despite the best efforts of gods above and down below, Percy has survived to experience all the sweetest rewards of coveted normalcy. He sits with her on the edge of her bed. What had first been an effort to show him her family’s California house (while nobody was home) had become a quick kiss, and then a long, tender play of his tongue against hers. Somehow, things had escalated to this point; he’d come to the bed, and then so did Annabeth, and she’d made some comment about how they’re adults now, but she doesn’t feel like one. ‘Neither do I,’ he’d said, but they’ll figure it out together. They’d stared at each other for a moment, feeling comfort from the other’s presence in the face of daunting adulthood. One of them made the first move. The other reciprocated eagerly. Their tongues have only come together a few times before, and this is the first time that they’ve gotten so involved. And he can hardly bear how thrilling this is, feeling nervousness and excitement in twin pangs of fiery emotion. ‘Gods, she’s a good kisser,’ Percy thinks to himself. ‘Why don’t we do this more often?’

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

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