A/N: I've never done drugs in all my sixteen years of living, but man, I must have been high to write this.

So this will probably be a super raunchy series of evil!Percy and evil!Annabeth because that's the only way I can possibly write them. I got the idea last night and finished it only moments ago. So enjoy!

Oh, and, sorry about the slightly ooc, docile Annabeth. I didn't know how I could do this without her being a little. . .submissive.

Perseus Jackson turns at the sound of his name - the look in his eyes tells Annabeth all she needs to know about the past and the ones that have dared call him that name. Percy. She can see just by his stare that he has grown accustomed to slicing the throats of those who have dared to address him as such.

His expression directed at Annabeth, however, is a mixture of surprise, of thrill.

How dare she?

How fucking dare she?

"Wisegirl," he says, black locks - black, pitch black, the top of his head faded and vanished into the background of the dark room - "Do you like flirting with danger?"

I'm here, she thinks, what does that tell you?

Annabeth Chase has been eighteen for two months now, and she's ready. This will be her biggest challenge. Discarding logic, discarding safety. And who better ready for than to be ready for the murderous, evil Perseus Jackson? The boy - the man - who has shaken oceans and left beings bigger, older, supposedly stronger than himself begging to fall on his sword.

Annabeth could see that sword now - just at the edge of her vision - across the room. But she didn't dare take her eyes away from Perseus's, his sea-green irises operating like flashlights in the purposeful dimness of the bedroom.

"Say it now," Perseus says, approaching her, closing in on her. "Say my name."

Sooner than later, Annabeth feels her back come to one of the dark walls. Perseus crushing into her, leaving no space to run, to think.

She's the daughter of Athena, and she can't think.

"Go on," says Perseus, "Say my name, bitch."

Immediately after the spill of profanity, Perseus's leg comes up to brush against Annabeth's inner thigh. Annabeth shivers at the contact, at everything.

And then she says it.

"Perseus -"

"Perseus what?" Perseus growls, brushing his lips against Annabeth's earlobe. "You've got to say the whole thing, babe."

"Perseus Jackson. . ."

Annabeth feels Perseus's tongue graze her earlobe as he licks his lips.

"Mmmm. . . ." he moans. He brings his hands up, and they travel the outlines of Annabeth. "You know," he says, "you're not bad. . ."

Annabeth feels Perseus's hands go to her rear, and he squeezes, causing her to gasp.

"This is what you want, right?" Perseus says, and the lewdness of Annabeth's mind seems to be leaking into Perseus, giving him the information he needs to process the whats and the whys and the wheres. "That's why you came to me, that's why they all come."

Perseus's hands travel up Annabeth's skirt, his hips move, like a raunchy dance.

"They all want to know what's it like, what I'm like."

This. This was the only reason she had come. As Poseidon's grip over the oceans, and everything he had bargained with with his two other brothers begins to loosen - as it should, as it must, according to the myths, whether Posedy likes it or not - the knowledge the god of the sea owns transfers itself to his most powerful offspring.


It was no contest. And if the other sons and daughters of Poseidon come to challenge him to his inheritance, Perseus will be more than willing to spill their blood and lick it from the steel of Riptide.

He's practically god of the seas already, Annabeth thinks in between pants and gasps as Perseus's hands travel and travel and ohhhh. . .

"Wet," Perseus says, sinking fingers in Annabeth's folds, massaging them.

Annabeth sinks nails into Perseus's shoulders, feeling herself collapse into the velvety pleasure.

"I like wet."

Annabeth's only reply to that are more moans, more grinding, more more more. . .

"Just to make one thing clear" Perseus whispers into her ear. "I don't make love. I don't do any of that I-wrote-you-365-letters-a-year Notebook shit. We do this, it'll be on my terms."

"I'm a virgin," Annabeth blurts out, like it'll help her case, like it'll soften Perseus's hard, sharp edges. "So. . ."

Perseus removes his place from Annabeth's neck and stares up at her. Those eyes again - piercing, almost all knowing. Staring at her until they reveal the rawest of meat, the most tender secrets Annabeth possesses.

"Be gentle." Annabeth tells him.

And to her surprise, he smiles; it's amazing how just a tiny little smile can make him seem so less evil, like a normal boy, like a mama's boy. Normal. The smile seems modest, real. It's wide and warming to Annabeth's nervous, hurried heart.

He sets his chin on her neck again, and whispers, "I don't care."

"C'mere," he says, and he pulls - yanks, the blond strands on her head aching from his hard-iron grip - and with one strong thrust, Annabeth plops onto the bed and nearly slides off of it.

Damn velvet silk sheets, she thinks. It's like he prepared for it.

"On your back," Perseus demands.

Annabeth twists, scooting up to the pillows.

Perseus smirks. "You've got a nice butt, you know. Nice and round. Squeezable."

And Perseus crawls to her, both hands placed on the sides of her bed.

Annabeth reaches to touch him, to feel his skin - only to have her hands pinned in one swift move.

"I touch you," Perseus says, "You don't touch me until I tell you."

His terms.

Annabeth nods.

Perseus leans down, his lips meeting hers in a surprisingly gentle fashion. His hands caress her legs and snake up her skirt to pull her panties away from her hips.

"Lace," Perseus says, and he chuckles. "I hope you weren't trying to woo me from the beginning."

Yes, she had.

"Still wet?"

Yes. . .yes, she was.

Annabeth felt Perseus's fingers fill her again, and her eyes fluttered close. She could no longer find the strength to keep her head up, and she sinked into the velvet pillows.

"So wet," Perseus says, astonished. "I can't even - I have to -"

His fingers leave her, and Annabeth feels him sink down, to her legs. He pushes her skirt up, so her legs are free to open wide for him. She feels his head move, his hands massage her thighs, and then -

Annabeth's eyes pop open, she stifles a moan the best she can.

Oh my gods. . .

Perseus is lapping up the juices of her. As Annabeth looks up, she sees his entire mouth has now covered her, eating her, attempting to desire her from her lower regions.

"Perseus. . ." she moans, bucking.

His tongue swipes her, revealing every crevice where her juices may hide. His tongue is everywhere on her. In her, around her, teasing her. His tongue comes up to tickle her clit, swipe at it and swirle it around, accompanied by the moans that vibrate from his ministrations.

Annabeth's right hand is bunched in her hair, her left is groping at her breast, pinching a nipple of maximum pleasure. Her moans dance with the sounds of Perseus's tongue, the slurps, the vibrations, the glops. . .

Annabeth's moans mingle with the screams of his name, of the thoughts she thinks but cannot say.


Or perhaps she is saying them, but she is too preoccupied with feeling to know, to care.

"Grip my hair," Perseus growls.

Annabeth's hands fly to his black locks. She pulls and grips for the leverage she needs as she rides out the extreme orgasm Perseus gives her. Perseus gives her no opportunity to leak before he's lapping up what comes through. Perseus crushes his mouth into her, leaving no space, devouring. . .

And then it's over, in a fit of squirms and exclamations that are meaningless and make no sense. Only to be replaced with the ghosts of pleasure, the rocking, back and forth, of oceans cooling, relaxing, coming to a harmonious end.

Perseus comes up, he looks satisfied with his work.

"I'm not sure you enjoyed that much," Perseus teases, his smirk nearly tugging his entire face. "What would you say? A five? Seven, at best?"

He chuckles while Annabeth struggles to regain something that can be called conscious.

Perseus slaps her leg. "Get up," he says. "Take all that stuff off, now. We've got more work to do."

Annabeth pushes hair from her face, finding the tickling sensation of hair more than annoying in her sensitive state.

Perseus comes to her, pushes her head back, and gives her the stare once more. "Get up and get undressed, or I might just get bored of you. Wisegirl."

She doesn't know how he knows her nickname. Annabeth raises from her embarrassing state. A nickname, against what would be safe, pops into her head. Seaweed Brain. Perhaps she'll work up the nerve to call him that one day, when he's not so bloodthirsty, and teething over his moods kill and don't kill - right now, that is. When he has found more a gray area for her to fill safe in.

Annabeth faces away from Perseus. Pulling the straps of her orange floral dress away from her shoulders and pushing the dress until it pools around her. She steps out of it. Annabeth spots her underwear, thrown across the room, more than useless.

She heard jangling behind her, and her insides contract.

Oh gods, Annabeth thinks, he's going to tie me up.

But when she turns around, Perseus is without chains - and without clothes.

The boy is a god already.

There is no misstep, no mistake on him. He is chiseled and muscled. His hair falls in his eyes, almost seeming wet - permanently wet - and he is bronze. Annabeth feels another thrill pass through her.

He has to let her touch him soon.

He has scars - scars from battles won and hardly lost. Faded and white across his abdomen and his shoulder pads. They are the most morbid type of beauty.

"Want something?" Perseus says, smiling his more innocent smile now.

"Yeah," she says, and it is one of the first things she says to him, and it rings true. "I thought you were about to chain me up."

It looks like Perseus is about to say something else, but then he double takes. "Well, your mind definitely goes to bad places when I'm not there," he teases.

Annabeth can't help but blush. Perhaps she is dirty-minded. What else would bring her here? In the clutches of Jackson?

Annabeth reaches up to remove her bra, and it falls from her shoulders also, allowing her breasts to fall free from restrain.

Perseus whistles. "Nice tits, there, Wisegirl. Bed. Now."

Annabeth doesn't need to be asked twice; she crawls back onto the bed, and Perseus follows. He plops beside her.

"On top. Now," he demands.

Red blossoms across Annabeth's face again.

"Oh, come on," Perseus says, "Just because no one's popped your little blond cherry doesn't mean you can't ride me. I just give you the head of your life and this makes you blush."

He had a point.

Annabeth positions herself in front and above Perseus. He grips her hips, ready.

"Come on, Wisegirl," he smirks. "Let's make love."

Annabeth hears his chuckles as her eyes close shut and she falls onto him.

The pain is sharp but she has had worse. Maybe it would've been easier, had Perseus not been so. . .endowed. Annabeth bit her lip, waiting for the pain to be released.

"You look constipated," Perseus says, positively giggling at her discomfort.

"Shut up," she growls.

Perseus bites his lip, mimicking her. And he says, in a mocking tone, "Oh, my very first cock. Owie."

Perseus lets his head sink back as he giggles to himself. And as the pain subsides, and something much nicer - ohhh - takes its place, Annabeth smiles.

She lifts herself, and then falls.

Annabeth applauds herself as she heard Perseus take in a sharp - sharp as knives slicing one another - breath.

"Oh shit," the redness in Perseus's lower lip is gone, he is biting down so hard. "Oh. . ."

Annabeth finds a nice rhythm, bouncing herself on Perseus. It feels like power, a little, sick feel of power when she knew she really had none. Perseus watched as her breasts rose and fell, and his nails poked the sides of her hips.

Oh. . .yes. . .

"That's right, Chase," Perseus says in between pants, "Making mommy smarty-pants proud. Oh - oh - shit - yes. . ."

Perseus closes his eyes, lolling his head around, feeling her.

Annabeth rolls and bounces, gyrates and nearly hops above Perseus, enjoying every moment of his thickness inside her. Her blond curls fall around her. Perseus has one eye open, now, noticing.

"Like a little slut princess," he says, and places hands behind his head.

The bed creaks, moans like it is a part of their sordid performance. Perseus raises, wrapping arms around Annabeth as she moves, completely lost, nowhere to be found in the ecstasy.

"Hands on me," he says.

Annabeth places her hands on shoulders, desperately looking for a place to grab -to hold - before going over the edge. To stop herself from losing everything, to grasp some remaing pebble of sanity left.

"Is this what you wanted, Annabeth?" Perseus says, the sweat rolling off his neck, tickling down and down and down. "Is this what you imagined?"

"Yes," Annabeth says, out of breath. A bitch in heat. "It's - oh! - it's better - oh my gods - yes - please -"

She feels herself tipping over, and then the fullness that is Perseus leaves her.

"What?" she says, outraged, hungry for what she has lost. "No! Put it back! Hey!"

Perseus laughs. "My terms, Wisegirl. I don't remember saying you could come before I do."

Annabeth glares, wishing her eyes could drive a whole into his skull and end his miserable existence and then have him die and then die some more and oh my gods she was so close.

Perseus places his cock in front of her, waving it as though it were a tasty offer.

"You let me come the first time."

"Well, that's not how it is now," Perseus says. "See? This is what happens when you decide to fuck a god: he either changes the rules to fit his own needs, or he has sex with a swan."

I hope Zeus didn't hear that one, Annabeth thinks, then grasps Perseus's cock.

"Don't be such a virgin with it -"

"I am a virgin -"

"You were a virgin," Perseus corrects her. "You're a big girl now, Anna, now you should be able to - oh shit!"

At least some good came out of this, Annabeth thinks, swirling her tongue around the base of Perseus's cock.

She keeps her eyes locked on him as his head slams into the headboard of the bed, arching the lower half of his body forward. Annabeth sees his hands clench, tight until there is no blood left to be seen, and she takes in more of him.

"Wisegirl. . ." Perseus sounds impressed as Annabeth's ministrations continue.

Her left hand pumps him as her right searches for other areas to fondle. Finally, they find his balls and gently caress them.

This will make him pay, Annabeth thinks as she grazes her teeth ever so gently across Perseus's cock.

Perseus's leg twitches. "Oh, shit, Wisegirl. . ."

Just like before, she finds a rhythm for this, as well. Rocking back and forth, with each new thrust she gains more of Perseus into her mouth, finds new areas to tease.

Perseus's hands finds Annabeth's head, rocking into her.

"Yes - ohh - that's right - good girl. . ."

Annabeth grazes her mouth while moving her hand up and down his shaft, lubricated from the slick of her tongue.

"For a virgin," says Perseus, "You sure know - ohh - what you're doing. . ."

"I've seen some videos," Annabeth says breathlessly. She takes him in her mouth again, paying her own close attention to his swollen head.

"You're a porn addict, too, Wisegirl?" Perseus laughs and lets his head bang against the headboard. His laughs are a sick combination of actual laughter and choking. He moans, "You're the reason why no one thinks virgins are as innocent as they - ooh - seem. . ."

Annabeth ignores him, now completely focused on her task. She glides the surface of her teeth along Perseus's shaft, trailing it with her tongue. She can tell Perseus is close; no more banter, only his pants and his groans. His hips buck and his grip on her loosened ponytail are becoming increasingly more aggressive.

Then she feels the first drop of semen on the back of her tongue, and she tries to pull away.

"Don't think so, Wisegirl," Perseus drags her right back on his cock.

His semen shoots and streams into her mouth. Perseus roars as he unloads into her. She looks up to see his face pinched and strained, his teeth biting down on his lip so hard it draws droplets of blood.

Annabeth closes her eyes, drinking in his juice. She focuses on making the moment last, savoring.

And the Perseus leaves her mouth, relaxing himself with half his body on the headboard and the rest against the wall.

"Virgin," he spits, like the word is a lie tainting his mouth.

Look at me, Perseus, Annabeth thinks hungrily. Finish me off, please.

As if he senses her desperation, his eyes snapped to her. He jerks his head, "On your back."

She does as he commands, and waits.

Perseus is on top of her, placing himself inside. Annabeth has missed his thickness, and her moan is almost whining when Perseus sinks inside her, disappearing into her folds.

"Legs around me," Perseus commands - yet it is hardly as harsh as before; more needy, like he desires her warmth in and around himself.

Annabeth wraps her legs around him, and he pumps.

She doesn't know what is better: herself on top, uncontrolled, hungry, a true bitch in heat. Or him, completely in control and completely under his mercy.

"Yes - ohh - Wisegirl -" Perseus lets out meaningless exclamations of pleasure as he plunges farther - deeper - into her depths.

Annabeth screams, her being yanked and pulled and stretched and pounded. She rakes nails over Perseus's back, which only entices him to increase speed and aggression. She can't feel anything but him - there is nothing but him, but this.

He fucks like a god.

Then, he pulls out a second time.

"You got to be -"

Annabeth's hiss is cut off by the look on Perseus's face - starving and manic, his sea-green eyes.

"On your knees."

Annabeth's eyes widen and she scrambles to meet his demand for the umpteenth time. On her hands and knees, her legs shake and her mouth goes completely dry as he slams into her again. The only thing she tastes is him, the only thing to have exist is his scent and his cock and him, like his presence is so powerful it devours everything else in the universe.

"PerseusPerseusPerseusPerseusPerseus" Annabeth shouts with each powerful thrust.

He has hands grip steel tight over her hips for the leverage he needs. Perseus dives into her with the same passion and drive of which he kills, and the thought of that sends another wave of pleasure that inches Annabeth over the edge.

So close. . .so close. . .

She prays to every god to have him stay in her, to have him no longer tease her. Annabeth's head is in the pillows, losing the energy to scream. She feels each drop of dignity she has overrun by her passion - by her need.

When Annabeth comes, she can almost feel the oceans from every part of the world topple onto her back. She whispers Perseus's name, eyes half closed, as he pulls away from her. She feels him unload on her back, his hot seed almost feels like it is sizzling on her skin.

Annabeth is spent; she rolls over on her side,not noticing and not caring that Perseus's come smother under her.

Before she falls asleep, she sees Perseus hovering over her face. His face holds no distinguishable emotion, but his eyes do, as they always.

As she closes her eyes, letting the darkness engulf her into sleep, she realizes she has a new god to pray to.

Hours later, she awakes to see Perseus beside her. She is clothed and fresh.

Did he bathe me?

It is night, as she can see through the curtains. Perhaps it is always night in his world.

The smile he gives her is almost goofy. "Have fun last night?"

She blushes. "Did you?"

Perseus laughs, an airy, weightless sound upon the otherwise silent room. "I like you; you have some serious lady balls to come down here, challenge me to a sex duel -"

"Sex duel?"

Perseus laughs again, but otherwise ignores her repetition of him. "Go. Chiron will be worried about you."


"You think I didn't know?" Perseus says, and this time he looks disbelieving. "I miss Camp-Half Blood, but after I. . .you know, went rogue, I was kicked out." Perseus shrugs. "Not that I cared at all, or miss anyone. I just miss the camp."

Annabeth doesn't know why it has taken her so long to notice, but he is wearing the orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. The image of Perseus wearing it, smiling down at her form, is surreal. Like her two worlds have bumped into one another on a street corner.

"Will I see you again?" she asks.

Perseus throws hands into the air. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? I move around a lot, Wisegirl, you can't just expect me to stay in one place for too long. I get bored. I only came around to the big apple New York 'cause I wanted to fuck Medusa -"

Annabeth's mouth fell open. "You did not fuck Medusa."

"You calling me a liar?" Perseus says, frowning, then scoffs. "She wanted me. I like the thrill of it. So. . .whatever. Yes, Wisegirl - as in, the girl that's supposed to know stuff, we'll see one another again."

"When?" Annabeth asks.

She can tell she's pushing it.

Perseus gives her that deadpan look again, clearly displeased. "I'll find you. Don't you go out looking for me. And don't you dare try to jump off a cliff, Bella."

Annabeth shivers. "Don't call me that."

Perseus barks a laugh. "Now go on,"

Annabeth waits for just a second, then raises.

"Oh, one more thing," Perseus calls. "Are you afraid of heights?"

She turns. "No. Athena. Spiders."

"Oh, that's right!" Perseus nods his head, lost in a memory. "I remember when I - oh, well, you'll probably never find them."

Annabeth's eyes go wide. "Find what?"

Perseus waves her off.

"Why do you want to know if I'm afraid of heights?"

Perseus looks her over, his eyes lingering over her rear, then, he says, "No reason."

Annabeth, exasperated, turns away and leaves the son of the sea god's room.

This is going to be quite the relationship.