Percabeth smut

Smut and Threesome

Friday nights are reserved for television, cookies, and laundry.

It's a good combination, really, and it's the sort of tradition that Annabeth started with Cameron in college to make her feel a little more human. (Her roommate and her started the television and the laundry parts, at least; Percy started the whole practice of making freshly baked blue cookies after he came into her life.)

This is one of those nights, quiet and lazy, with some show that's usually a little too on the nose playing in the background.

The glow from the tv washes over Percy with soft light, and Annabeth barely stops herself from ogling over her boyfriend when he catches her gaze and shoots a lopsided grin over to her.

"What?" Percy asks. "Like what you see?" He wriggles his brows.

Annabeth fights down a blush; she will not readily admit how gorgeous and ethereal he looks, how effortlessly divine he is, how she doesn't understand why he loves her and wants to stay with her. It's the beginning of something permanent; even though Annabeth doesn't acknowledge it vocally, she knows that the love they hold for each other is as true as anything in her life has ever been.

"In your dreams, Seaweed Brain," she finally bites after a few seconds of thought.

"Hm, you hesitated. I'll take that as a compliment."

Before the god turns back to the television, Annabeth says, "I'm just thinking about how it's your turn to get the laundry."

The smile on his face subsides a little. "But we are in the middle of a Lucifer episode!"

"You're not watching it anyways, if you could tell that I was looking at you." Annabeth leans away from Percy, pauses Netflix with a remote, and folds her arms over her chest.

"Ha! So you admit that you were looking at me. Well then, it's not like you are watching either!"

" I started the laundry, so you have to go get it."

Percy rolls his eyes, but Annabeth knows that she won.

"It would have been so much easier if you would just let me snap my fingers--"

"That's cheating ." Annabeth insists. She doesn't know why she feels so strongly about doing certain things -- getting the groceries, doing the laundry, baking cookies -- the mortal way, but Percy knows her well enough to not argue about that anymore. Maybe she just wants to feel normal, like she has some elements of her life under her control in a way that is accessible to her. Or maybe she just wants to pretend that supernatural forces don't exist and they can't just come into her life and sweep Percy away. After what happened a while back, she's never letting him go.

"You know," Annabeth continues, adopting a teasing smile, "I wouldn't have to do laundry so frequently anyways if you don't ruin all my sheets."

"Oh, so it's my fault that I made you squirt when I--" Percy starts, but Annabeth shoves him away from her. "Fine!" Percy shakes his head, "I'm going. Jeez."

Annabeth can't ever get used to what happens next.

He splits himself as naturally as how breathing is for her; she sees a version of him step out from the copy sitting on the couch like how people step out from shadows. It is the sort of godly magic that her brain has a hard time comprehending visually, making it a little unsettling for her. It's a trick that belongs in a higher dimension than the one she's used to.

The new version of him that steps off merely shrugs, rolls his shoulder a little, and leaves to put on his shoes by the door before heading to the basement to grab their laundry.