Okay just a little one. Percy cussing all the time. Like if the sun was in his eyes, or someone looked at him wrong, or just any and all inconveniences. Him cussing like a sailor. So then you have Annabeth who doesn’t even say hell or damn. So when they start going out Annabeth really cracks down on Percy’s foul language and doesn’t like it when he slips. Percy trying his hardest not to cuss, but instead of saying the generic alternative cuss words like friggin, crap, darn or heck he makes up his own on the spot. Him yelling at the top of lungs “Son of a bed post” “Holy Mother of blue teddy bears” then him just making up words that make no sense at all like (my personal alternative cuss words) “Schiznuts” “Crabnuggets” “Fudge muffins” Percy doing this because he loves Annabeth’s smile and laugh when she hears his alternative cuss words that make no sense at all.
This fic is dedicated to @lililibird for some reason that I cannot remember (I’m guessing it’s bc you’re hella awesome, Lili) so I hope that you guys enjoy the punk!Percy and girly!Annabeth here. I also wanna thank Lili for being an incredible beta and friend to me. Don’t know what I would do without you, bruh <3
Come let me know what you think, and I hope you guys have a wonderful day!
Annabeth can remember every single
time that she’s had to hold Percy’s hand as he gets his knuckles stitched back
up from punching someone or when she’s had to hold a pack of ice to a black eye
that he got for insulting someone at their high school or even that one time
that she had to drag him out of the road after he had a skateboarding accident,
and he was a lot heavier than he looked, okay?
So it’s kind
of funny to see Percy scowling and frowning and pacing around her small bed in
the Emergency Room.
says softly, trying to make her voice sound like she was in less pain so he
wouldn’t panic. “You can go home. I’m fine.”
He turns his
scowl to her. “I’m not leaving you here.”
then, looking back up at the wall and biting her lip.
at practice earlier today—Track, even though she wasn’t that good, it looked
great on her resumes—when she tripped over one of the hurdles. She could
usually clear them without a problem, but she had been thinking about her
history paper and her foot got caught on it. She threw her hands out in front
of her, which probably saved her face, but her wrist had cracked and bent to a
A smile stretched across Sally’s face. “So you’re History Girl. Oh, I knew he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date sooner or later.”
Annabeth wrinkled her nose in confusion, looking between mother and son. “What?”
“You did not, Ma,” Percy replied from the stove, adorably disgruntled.
“I think I know you well enough to know when you have a crush, dear,” Sally shot back with a grin. She leaned toward Annabeth, lowering her voice just enough to make it seem like she was dishing out a terrible secret. “He talked about you all the time. ‘Ugh, mom, this girl in my history class. She’s such a know-it-all, and she wears these dresses all the time. Who wears dresses to class? She’s so annoying, but I can’t stop thinking about her — ’”
“Ma! I didn’t say that,” Percy interrupted through Annabeth’s delighted laughter, his cheeks an angry shade of red. “Make me sound like an obsessed loser, why don’t you, that’s a real help…”
Annabeth smoothed down the front of her striped dress, analysing herself in the dusty mirror in the back of the shop. It was too late to change now, as she’d agreed for Percy to pick her up from here and not her apartment, but she couldn’t help fretting over the details of her outfit.
She couldn’t help remembering that Percy was a famous rockstar and she was the owner of a small and insignificant flower shop. Couldn’t help remembering that he had toured the world and she had never gone outside of Long Island.
The bell out front chimed and Annabeth stole one last critical look in the warped mirror, sighing, before ducking out of the back room. Percy was gently closing the front door when she emerged. He looked far tidier than the last time she had seen him, three days ago in this very shop. He wore a white shirt (sleeves stuffed up over his elbows) with a stick slim cobalt tie (fastened in a way which looked both hasty and careless at once), skinny black jeans (holes leaving his scarred knees on show) and converses (blue laces on the left, pink on the right).
He looked hot.
“Hi,” she said, breathier than she would have liked.
punk!Percy and girly!Annabeth are way more important than my homework okay
So because of the recent blow up with punk!Percy and girly!Annabeth caused by @bananannabeth and @lililibird I wrote a little fic
hands are sweaty, and he’s scowling angrily because the wind keeps ruffling his
hair and it took him forever to even kind of make it lay down straight and this
is not how things are supposed to start out.
about the probability of Annabeth wearing a dress tonight. He wonders if he
should really be upset about the wind at all.
Annabeth up at her house for their date tonight. They’ve been distant friends
for a while, but since Percy started sitting next to her in their Biology class
at school, he’s decided that he can’t stand just being friends with her. It was
an accident when he asked her out. The question had just flown out of his mouth
yesterday when she had been talking about her English paper as he walked her to
her car. She had stopped and stared at him for a few seconds before smiling and
telling him to pick her up at seven.
driving his mom’s car just because he doesn’t want Annabeth on his motorcycle.
Even though he drives it, it’s fucking dangerous, and he’ll be damned before he
lets Annabeth get hurt.
WARNING SMUT!! I am copying and pasting in from her ao3 account! i do not own this. if you want to see the story in the ao3 site, click here and for ch 2, click here.
so bad but he does it so well CHAPTER 1 fantasy
The blonde in the second row is wearing a blue dress today.
Annabeth’s her name, if he remembers right. Annabeth Chase with gold curls, the ever changing, meticulous wardrobe, and the thick framed glasses she slips on when she’s taking notes during the lecture. Annabeth, always with her hand in the air and with an answer for the professor, and shooting him what she thinks are sly, appraising looks when she thinks he isn’t paying attention. Annabeth, who he’s talked to maybe five times and can’t possibly stop thinking about.
Stylish bookworms are not usually Percy’s type; have never been his type, actually, not until Annabeth had breezed into the lecture hall that first day of class, all but impeccable in white sun dress covered in cherries and bold red heels. That day, Percy couldn’t stop staring at her — at the elegant line of her neck, the curve of her waist, those long, long legs under her skirt — and he hadn’t been able to look away ever since.
Percy has learned relatively little in his history class in the last month, aside from the many different ways he wants to undress Annabeth Chase.
He wants her pinned against the wall of his apartment, high waisted shorts crumpled around her knees as she keens for him, his hand busy sliding up between her thighs.
He wants to hear her sighs when he undoes each of the white buttons on the back of her retro purple dress, trailing kisses down each new inch of skin he unveils. Wants to feel her tremble as he rolls those pattern thigh highs down her legs, to know what her best set of lace panties feels like under a swipe of his tongue.
He wants to brush aside her golden curls and pull down a strap of one of her many sundresses and kiss her shoulder, wants to make her scream with his mouth on her clit, her skirts bunched up around her hips and legs over his shoulders, heels still on her feet. Wants her under him, over him, curled next to him with nothing but a satisfied smile lighting up her face.
Each day of class brings a new outfit and a new fantasy — she’s yet to repeat an outfit, and Percy’s imagination is ever so willing to keep up her seemingly endless wardrobe, especially whenever her gray eyes turn his way.
Sometimes, it’s just to sneer at the state of his ripped jeans and ironic T-shirt collection, but other days… he’s sure she’s doing some mental undressing of her own, pushing his leather jacket off his shoulders, ripping his shirt over his head, or getting her hand down the front of his best pair of skinny jeans.
God, wouldn’t that be something. But if Annabeth Chase isn’t his usual type, then punkass Percy Jackson definitely isn’t hers. She and her blue dress and blonde curls are nothing more than a wishful fantasy, his Tuesday and Thursday diversion, and he would be better served by focusing his thoughts on the lecture and not on how that dress would look on the floor next to his bed.
(Though, for the record, her dress would look excellent there.)
CHAPTER 2 reality
If he tears her dress, she’s going to kill him.
It’s not the most generous thought to have when a boy’s hands are smoothing up her curves and hoisting her up on to counter in his dingy dressing room, but Annabeth has her priorities and protecting her vintage sheath dress from Percy Jackson’s undoubtedly destructive hands is one of them.
He has the look of dress ripper about him – and it’s not just the holes in his jeans and the ratty sleeves of his T-shirt that give him away. He’s spent all night looking at her from the stage like he’s imagined a hundred different ways to get her dress off; she’s positive just undoing the zipper and letting it slip down did not feature prominently in any of those scenarios. His touches are impatient, never lingering, as if he can’t get enough of any one part of her, and turning rougher as the heat between them grows which each kiss, each lustful sigh and needy groan.
Make no mistake, Annabeth wants her dress off too – god, does she ever want to feel his calloused palms on her skin and, oh, that mouth of his, yes, please – but it absolutely needs to come off in one piece. Hopefully it’ll also get hung on the back of the chair, not on the floor, which apparently hasn’t been cleaned since the bar was built, but she highly doubts it.
“How’d you even get this thing on?” Percy growls, nipping at the shell of her ear as his fingers fumble with the zipper. He slides it down just enough to loosen the top of her dress, so he can pull down the sweetheart neckline and her lacy bra all in one go. Annabeth gasps as her breasts are exposed, nipples tightening the tepid air. “Magic?”
“M-my roommate had to zip me up,” she admits, voice trembling as Percy palms one of her breasts, rolling a thumb over her nipple. “But it’s clearly done it’s jo – oooh!”
Her nails dig into his shoulder and the nape of his neck as Percy dips his head to take her other nipple in his mouth. He is not gentle. He is demanding, pinching her with his fingers, pulling at her with his mouth, grazing her with his teeth, and Annabeth’s body arches into him, rubbing against the thick press of his thigh between her legs until she’s whimpering and trembling, on the edge of something great and wonderful.
She’s spent more time fantasizing about Percy Jackson than she’s willing to admit, her mind often wandering to him during the history class they share together. She’s beyond thrilled that he’s living up to those fantasies in all the best ways.
“Take it off,” she demands, gulping for air. “Please.”
He ignores her plea, intently focused on her breasts and making sure she feels every second of his mouth on her. Annabeth appreciates this, she does, but her skin is crawling with heat and she has to get this dress off before she combusts. Unsteadily, she reaches back to finish unzipping her dress, but Percy’s hand darts out to stop her.
“No way, princess,” he says huskily, kissing his way up her chest to the curve of her neck. She can’t even be mad at him for the ridiculous nickname, his mouth feels so good. “The dress is staying on.”
It’s not her most eloquent moment, with her breasts out, cheeks and chest flushed with arousal, and legs wrapped around an irredeemable punk of a man. It draws a chuckle out of him, and he cups her face in his hands before kissing her quite thoroughly.
“You have no idea,” Percy murmurs into her mouth, “just how many times I’ve wanted my head under all those skirts of yours, between your thighs, getting you off with my lips and tongue. Not missing my one chance tonight.”
“Fuck,” Annabeth moans, closing her eyes, overwhelmed by the sharp pulse of want that blazes through her at the image he presents. He would be a talk dirty. She presses her curves into him and kisses him frantically, feeling his awful smirk spread across her lips.
“You ever have someone do that to you, Annabeth?” he replies when they break apart, his hands already sliding under the hem of her dress, pushing it up the length of her thighs. The ache between her legs pulses mightily each time a new inch of flesh is exposed. “Eat you out with one of your gorgeous dresses bunched up around your hips? Pull that skirt back down and leave you dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day?”
His thumbs dig into the edges of her panties and Annabeth lifts her hips so he can drag them down her legs. She doesn’t think his eyes can get any darker, his expression any more needier, until she shakes her head and says, “No. You’d be the first.”
She barely gets the words out before he’s on his knees in front of her, shoving her back on the counter and spreading her wide. His hands dig into her clothed hips and, distantly, Annabeth thinks she should warn him about his grip on the material and -
Oh, holy god.
and those are the smuts!!! well, the first two chapters of the 6 chappies of this story. go to the links earlier to read the rest bye!
Hey guys! Quick note before the au, I just wanted to tell you guys that I created this au to celebrate my 50 60 followers (I know, I’m late), and by the way, I thank every single person who has liked, reblogged, or followed me. This is also an entry for pjoweeks, but that’s a sidenote.
I was inspired to write this au when I watched First Kiss on youtube again, and I then got the idea to create this, so go watch the video if you like (Also, I didn’t participate in any way in the video so sorry if I have some details incorrect). Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
(Featuring Punk!Percy and Girly! Annabeth because I couldn’t resist it.)
Percy waited in line impatiently for the directors to call him. He was tapping his foot, glancing around at everyone in the waiting room who were also waiting for the directors to call them.
They all looked surprisingly calm, which slightly irritated Percy quite a bit because they were going to kiss a stranger. Sure, Percy has had his fair share of kisses before, but they were all with girls he knew. Did he mention that they were going to kiss a fucking stranger?
Someone that must’ve been important went inside the waiting room and called on two names, and Percy was suddenly aware that they had called him after the second time they repeated his name.
Percy got up, very nervous, and saw the person he was supposed to be kissing in two minutes. Percy swore that his breath caught. The person he was supposed to be kissing was wearing cream color heels, a floral skirt that exposed her long, tan, legs and a white tank top that exposed part of her back. She had long, blonde hair with princess curls, grey, stormy eyes and some make up on.
In short, she was drop-dead gorgeous.
The person who had called them started rushed them inside the studio, informing them on what they were supposed to do. “Alright, kids. What you need to do is give each other’s names, compliment each other, and kiss. That simple.” The man was in his mid thirties and had a harsh, Boston accent.
They passed a couple who were speaking, apparently they had just got off set. The man who was guiding them pushed them on a set, filled with cameras. “Go stand in the spotlight.”
Percy stared at the guy who had ushered them, wondering why he was being so rude. “Hey, it’s not necessary to be so rude, you know.” Percy commented, preparing himself for a fight, just in case.
The man who had guided him flared his nostrils, “You know-”
“Ted,” Interrupted the director. She was sitting on a typical directors chair, and had blonde hair. “Leave them be,”
The director flashed him a quick smile of apology. “I’m sorry for his rude actions, but we’re running late on time, so could you two go stand in the spotlight, please?”
Percy tilted his head, confused. He glanced next to him and realized that the girl had stood next to him, during his argument with the Ted. Percy could see her face more clearly, and he swore he was going to drool soon if she kept on being so beautiful.
She caught him staring at her, and smirked at him. Percy did not blush, nope. punks don’t blush.
She sashayed to the spotlight, and Percy quickly remembered that he was supposed kiss this stunning human being. He gulped and raised his hands to his mouth and smelled his breath. Good thing that Percy ate a mint before this.
He walked over to the spotlight, making sure that his stride was calm and not showing how nervous he was. He stood in the spotlight, waiting for the cameraman to tell them when to start.
The camera started counting, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” He mouthed the last two numbers.
Immediately, the girl stretched out her hand. “I’m Annabeth.”
He took her hands in his and shook it, “Percy.” He realized he was still shaking her hand, for a bit too long and quickly shoved it in his pocket.
“You’re beautiful.” The words fell out of Percy’s mouth before he could stop them. He almost blushed again, but he (thankfully) forced himself not to.
She raised an eyebrow. “Straight forward, aren’t you?”
Percy started to rub his neck, “Only with you.” Goddamn his mouth and his emotions.
He saw a blush steadily rise to her cheeks, which was so adorable and oh my god she’s just this little human being and wait is he fangirling?
“I like your lip ring,” She commented, looking at his lips, or more specifically, his silver lip ring.
“Thanks.” He will not allow himself to blush around her, which is taking a lot of effort.
“So, what do you do for a living?” She seemed genuinely interested in his daily life, which was a change because the only people in his life who actually cared about that were his bandmates and his parents.
“I’m in a band, but other than that I’m in NYU majoring in Marine Biology.”
She stared at me incredulously. “Seriously? I’m in NYU too. I’m majoring in architecture.”
Percy smirked at Annabeth. “What a coincidence.” He shifted his weight to his left foot, knowing that they were stalling.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He turned to the director to ask her his question. “So uh, when do we-”
He was interrupted by Annabeth harshly pulling his belt loops in an effort to bring him to closer to her, then she tilted her head and closed her eyes and smashed her lips against his. He made a surprised noise against her mouth, his eyes still open wide. He calmed down quickly knowing that he was supposed to be kissing this magnificent person, so he closed his eyes, started kissing her back, and lifted his hand to her cheek to caress it.
It was the best kiss he ever had. It was passionate but slow, genuine and fireworks inducing. He could taste the strawberry lipgloss she had on her lips and somehow that made it all more amazing, if you could make the most breathtaking kiss he’d ever had more amazing.
After an unknown amount of time afterwards, they pulled away (sadly, Percy thought). Percy told himself, Punks Do Not Blush.
He later might’ve gotten her number written on his forearm.
Hey, guys! I just want to wish all of you happy holidays! I hope you have tons of fun, and here’s you a punk!Percy and girly!Annabeth one shot to make it just a bit better! This is the “i know we hate each other but it’s christmas eve and your flight was cancelled please come inside” Percabeth AU
Come talk to me and let me know how your holidays are going! I would love to hear about them xoxo
Annabeth had decided not to go back to San Francisco this year for the holidays because of money and work. She also didn’t mind that much because she didn’t really get along with her stepmother, and even though she wouldn’t get to see her dad this year, she couldn’t make herself feel bad about it.
She was spending Christmas with her friends, and she was more excited about it than she had been for the holiday in years.
Since her mom died when she was younger, Annabeth never had another real Christmas. Her dad was just too sad, and then he met his new wife and she brought along her family and kids and it was just—too much for Annabeth. She missed waking up with her mom and dad and opening presents and then watching Harry Potter all day long while playing with her new toys and gifts.
It was Christmas Eve today, and Annabeth was curled up on her couch underneath her comforter, eating popcorn and candy canes and watching the first Harry Potter movie. She had done some work earlier this morning, planning for some of the designs for her firm and the meeting after the first of the year, but now she was trying to get into the “Christmas spirit.”
He sits on the edge of her pristinely made bed with his long fingers tangled together in his lap, looking like a splotch of ink on white paper. Annabeth’s bedroom is made up of white bed sheets, flowers in vases, fairy lights, pink cushions, flower-patterned bunting, neatly stacked bookshelves, and bottles of perfume on her tidy dressing table.
Percy is ripped black jeans, fraying sleeves, blue-tipped mowhawk, inked skin, and pierced cartilage. He’s a slash of messy darkness in the bright, clean room. He’s perched on the edge of her mattress like he’s afraid to make a mess, lip ring tugged into his mouth as he stares around himself nervously.
Percy Jackson may be a punk, but he’s a considerate one.
Annabeth watches him from the doorway of her walk-in wardrobe and smiles to herself. She’s content with watching him for a few moments before she clears her throat. Percy’s head snaps up immediately.
“What do you think?” she asks him, resting her hands on her hips and she flaunts her new cheerleading outfit.
Percy swallows and blinks at her a few times. He nods.
“Very eloquent, thanks.”
He snaps out of it then. “Give us a cheer then.” He jerks his chin as he says it, slow grin creeping across his face as he leans back on his hands.
Annabeth shakes her pom poms at him. “Hey Percy, you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey Percy!”
He’s shaking his head at her now. “I’m sure the football team will appreciate that.”
“Oh, they’ll love it.”
She walks over to him, nudging his knees apart to stand between them and resting her pom poms on his shoulders. He looks up at her, innocence painting his features and she narrows her eyes in response.
“Are you gonna come to this game?” she asks.
He drags his gaze down and then back up her body, leaving her skin shivering in response. The spring/summer uniform leaves her midriff, arms, and legs bare and she can tell Percy appreciates this.
“Maybe,” he says.
Annabeth scoffs. “Pervert.”
He grins and wraps his arms around her waist suddenly, tugging her down on top of him as he falls backwards on the bed. Annabeth lets out a shriek as she catches herself on her elbows. She lying across his body, lined up from knee to chest and feeling flushed because of it. Percy grins at her.
“Ass,” she says.
“Wimp,” he quips back.
His grin turns sly. “Cheerleader.”
Annabeth rolls her eyes as she shifts above him, letting one leg slip between his and pressing her knee into the mattress. She lets go of her pom poms and rests her hands on either side of his head. Percy’s hands are still around her waist, palms against her bare skin, sending shivers down her spine. His grin is slowly slipping from his face as he bites his lip, eyes fleeting to her lips.
Annabeth tilts her head down and her ponytail slips over her shoulder, swinging next to Percy’s face. His eyelids close slowly as she moves closer and Annabeth smiles before she finishes closing that distance, because she loves how much he trusts her. She loves the effect she can have over him. That his tough exterior drops away when she’s in his arms, that his sharp smiles turn soft and his smart mouth presses kisses to her forehead and the back of her hand and the apple of her cheek.
She likes that he becomes soft under her hands.
When she presses her smile to his waiting mouth, his arms tighten around her waist, holding her to him, and she feels like she might be the only thing he’s not reckless with. This messy, angry boy who, by all rights, shouldn’t fit into her life, into her tidy room and her meticulous habits and her ordered life. But here he fits, with his hands on her waist and his gentle mouth teasing hers. He fits. They fit.