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“You alright?” Percy asked, holding out a hand.
Clarisse could only nod, ignoring the hand at first and then giving in and taking it for the other demigod to help pull her back to her feet.
“I’ve gone dusty,” she muttered instead.
Percy offered a lopsided smile, “Well you were away from camp for a few months.”
She nodded jerkily, “See you at dinner-”
“What’s the hurry? Clarisse-”
“Later!” Clarisse snapped, hurrying away, too frazzled to remember to add in a friendly insulting nickname in it.
She did not need to look back to see the frown on Jackson’s face, or the confused faces of others in the arena- she knew how she looked. She wasn’t sad about losing the training session with the son of Poseidon, no, the reason for her agitation was something- or rather, someone else entirely.
Her swift departure was indeed rewarded when she caught the said culprit of her distress. Grabbing her by the arm, Clarisse pinned none other than Annabeth Chase in the girls washroom and closed the doors behind them.
“Why,
hello
.”
The washroom smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and damp paper towels, the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead adding to the tension. Outside, the muted noise of the arena faded, leaving just her and Annabeth—and that damn smile.
Strange, how much a grinning owl looked like a cheshire cat. Weren’t owls but bird hardware running on cat software?
“Turn it off,” she hissed.
“Turn what off?”
Oh she loved her girlfriend. Truly. But at this moment all she wanted to do was wipe that smile off her face.
“
Annabeth
.”
“Now is that any way to ask, honey?”
“Annabeth please. Turn it off, I-
ah
.” Clarisse had to grip the edge of the sink beside her to not fall down for her knees had turned extremely weak all of a sudden.
Well, not all of a sudden per se. Annabeth hadn’t even bothered hiding the remote—the little device that had Clarisse’s pride dangling by a thread—as she turned it to a higher setting.
Clarisse’s heart pounded in her ears, louder than the muted arena noises outside the door. Every second stretched unbearably.
She glared at Annabeth, whose smirk had somehow only grown wider. The little remote in her hand was practically mocking her.
“Annabeth.” Her voice was low, almost a growl, though the trembling in her legs betrayed her. “Give. It. Back.”
“Give what back, love?” Annabeth’s tone was maddeningly sweet, like she wasn’t holding all the power in her ridiculously capable hands.
Clarisse sucked in a shaky breath, trying to push through the haze of heat and adrenaline flooding her system. “You know what.”
“Oh,” Annabeth said lightly, tapping the remote against her chin like she was deep in thought. “You mean
this
?”
Her free hand pointed downward, and Clarisse’s eyes flicked down against her will. The faint outline under her jeans was subtle but unmistakable- especially considering the considerably darkened shade of blue there. One would assume it was sweat and only she and Annabeth knew better.
“You stole it,” Clarisse hissed.
“You left it on my nightstand,” Annabeth countered smoothly. “And you wore the other half of it. That’s practically an invitation for me to steal it and
use
it, you know?”
“You weren’t supposed to
take it to the arena!
”
Annabeth shrugged, unfazed. “Well, maybe next time don’t leave your favorite toy where I can get my hands on it.”
“Turn it off,” she ground out.
“Make me,” Annabeth challenged, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Clarisse’s body jerked slightly as Annabeth’s thumb slid across the button, increasing the intensity. Her knees buckled, and she had to brace herself against the sink again, letting out a strangled noise that was far too loud for her liking.
“Annabeth,” she hissed, though her voice had lost much of its edge.
“Yes, dear?”
The pure, infuriating smugness in her girlfriend’s tone sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through her, and Clarisse swore under her breath. She didn’t know whether to punch Annabeth or kiss her, but one thing was clear: she couldn’t let her win.
Gathering what was left of her strength, she pushed off the sink and lunged forward. Annabeth yelped, her smirk slipping as Clarisse pinned her against the wall, her hands closing around the blonde’s wrists.
“Turn. It. Off,” Clarisse said again, her voice low and dangerous.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, but the faint pink creeping into her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “And if I don’t?”
Clarisse leaned in, her breath warm against Annabeth’s ear. “Then I’ll make you.”
Annabeth’s lips parted slightly, her confidence faltering for just a second. But then she smirked again, tilting her head so their faces were inches apart.
“You’re cute when you’re desperate,” she murmured.
Clarisse’s grip tightened, her patience hanging by a thread. “Last chance, Wise Girl.”
“You know I wont. You know what I want.”
Clarisse would swear that the noise that escaped her lips was
not
a whimper, thank you very much. She knew very well what Annabeth wanted, yes. This was a game they played often.
She wanted to hear Clarisse.
Correction: She wanted to hear Clarisse
beg
.
Clarisse’s breath hitched, and she swore under her breath. Her hands trembled slightly where they pinned Annabeth’s wrists, though whether it was from frustration, the remnants of the device’s relentless hum, or sheer indignation at the way Annabeth’s smirk refused to waver, she couldn’t tell.
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.
Annabeth tilted her head, feigning an innocent pout. “And yet, here you are, still holding me against the wall like you can intimidate me.” Her gaze flicked meaningfully downward, where the faint hum of the toy between Clarisse’s legs had left her teetering on the edge of either collapse or ecstacy.
Clarisse’s grip tightened, her lips parting as though to say something, but the words caught in her throat. She hated—
loathed
—how Annabeth could turn her into a stammering, blushing mess with just a look.
“I hate you,” she growled,
“No, you don’t.” Annabeth’s voice was soft now, a dangerous contrast to her mischievous grin.
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing Clarisse’s ear as she whispered, “You love this.”
Clarisse froze, her breath catching as a shiver ran down her spine.
“I’ll give you one last chance,” Annabeth said, her tone so sweet it could rot teeth. “Say the magic words, and maybe—
maybe
—I’ll think about turning it off.”
Clarisse’s eyes darted to the remote still clutched in Annabeth’s hand. Her pride screamed at her to stand her ground, to hold out just a little longer, to not give Annabeth the satisfaction of seeing her beg. But her body had other ideas, the tension coiled inside her threatening to snap at any second.
“You’re evil,” Clarisse muttered through gritted teeth.
Annabeth smiled, her thumb brushing teasingly over the button again. “And you’re stalling.”
Clarisse let out a shaky breath, her resolve crumbling by the second. “Fine,” she bit out.
“Fine?” Annabeth echoed, her eyebrow arching. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
Clarisse closed her eyes, swallowing her pride. “Please,” she said, the word barely more than a whisper.
“Hmm?” Annabeth leaned in closer, her grin widening. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Annabeth,” Clarisse groaned, her voice strained. She could feel the flush creeping up her neck, the weight of her girlfriend’s expectant gaze practically suffocating her.
Annabeth tilted her head, her lips brushing ever so slightly against Clarisse’s. “One more time, sweetheart.”
Clarisse’s hands slipped from Annabeth’s wrists, falling to her sides as she let out a soft, frustrated growl. “Please,” she said again, louder this time, her voice tinged with desperation, burying her face in the side of Annabeth’s neck.
Annabeth’s grin turned soft, her teasing melting into something warm and affectionate. “Good girl,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Clarisse’s temple.
Then, mercifully, she clicked the remote, and the toy went silent.
Clarisse slumped against the wall, her breathing heavy as the tension drained from her body.
“Feeling better?”
She barely mustered the energy to glare at the other girl. Annabeth
knew
that that damn toy was not enough to get her off while just inside her. She needed more and her sadistic girlfriend had chosen to turn it on only at times where Clarisse, under no circumstances, could walk away and give herself what she needed.
Not that she would. Not when her pleasure- or lack of thereof, was in the same hands that currently controlled the remote.
Annabeth, of course, looked entirely too pleased with herself. She slipped the remote into her back pocket, leaning casually against the sink like she hadn’t just spent the last hour driving Clarisse up the wall—literally and figuratively.
“You’re quiet,” Annabeth observed, her tone light but her eyes glinting with amusement. “Not going soft on me, are you?”
Clarisse growled low in her throat, pushing off the wall despite the protest of her still-weak knees. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered again, though this time there was no conviction behind it.
Annabeth hummed, stepping closer until they were nearly chest to chest. “You’ve said that already.” She reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair out of Clarisse’s face. “But you haven’t said thank you yet.”
Clarisse blinked, incredulous. “Thank you?
For what?
”
Annabeth smirked, the corners of her mouth curling up in that way that always made Clarisse want to both kiss and strangle her. “For holding back, of course,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “You’d be on the floor right now if I’d turned it all the way up.”
Clarisse felt her face flush even hotter, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I’d be fine,” she shot back.
“Hmm, sure you would,” Annabeth said, tilting her head like she was considering something. Then, without warning, her hand slid down to Clarisse’s waistband, fingers tugging playfully at the fabric. It slid inside. Under the jeans, still over her panties, brushing against the soaking crotch of them, rubbing incessantly.
“You’re such a mess already. Maybe I should’ve kept it going a little longer, just to see how much you could take.”
She wanted to snap back with some smartass comment, but her brain short-circuited the second Annabeth leaned in, her lips brushing against her ear.
“Say the word, and I’ll give you what you need,” Annabeth murmured, her voice soft and dangerous all at once. “But only if you ask
nicely.
”
Clarisse swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She hated this game—hated how Annabeth could unravel her with just a few words, how easily she could take control. But, gods, she couldn’t deny how much she
needed
her right now.
Her pride screamed at her to hold out, to not give in. But her body was screaming even louder.
“Please,” Clarisse said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Annabeth pulled back slightly, her gray eyes locking onto Clarisse’s. “That’s a good start,” she said, her smirk softening into something almost affectionate. “But I think you can do better than that.”
Clarisse’s jaw clenched, her nails digging into her palms. “Annabeth,” she ground out, her voice strained. “Please. I—I need you.”
For a moment, Annabeth just stared at her, the teasing glint in her eyes giving way to something warmer. Then she smiled—a real smile, not her usual smug grin—and leaned in, pressing her lips to Clarisse’s in a kiss that was both tender and electric.
“Good girl,” Annabeth murmured against her lips.
Clarisse’s breath hitched as Annabeth’s hand slid back up, teasing the edge of her waistband with deliberate slowness. Her eyes fluttered shut, her hands instinctively gripping the sink behind her to keep herself upright. She hated how easily Annabeth reduced her to this—a trembling, needy mess—but gods, she loved it just as much.
Annabeth kissed her again, her lips soft and warm, contrasting sharply with the maddening intensity of her touch. She broke the kiss just long enough to murmur, “You’re so tense, baby. Let me help you relax.”
Clarisse opened her mouth to retort—something about how Annabeth was the
reason
she was tense—but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale as Annabeth’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, her fingers finally making contact with the source of Clarisse’s torment.
“Ah—” Clarisse bit down on her lower lip, stifling the sound that threatened to escape. She didn’t need anyone outside overhearing and walking in on
this.
Annabeth, of course, noticed and smirked. “What’s the matter? Worried someone might hear you?” she teased, her voice low and playful. “I thought you liked a challenge.”
Clarisse shot her a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “Shut up,” she muttered, her voice strained.
Annabeth chuckled, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles around her clit that left Clarisse clinging to the edge of sanity. “You’re so stubborn,” she murmured, her tone affectionate despite the teasing. “It’s cute.”
“Annabeth—” Clarisse’s voice cracked, her grip on the sink tightening as her body arched into Annabeth’s touch.
Circle. Pause. Dip down.
Circle.
Pause.
Circle.
Dip
down.
“Too. Slow.” she gritted out.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening at the edge in Clarisse’s voice. “Too slow?” she echoed, her tone mockingly innocent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I… pick up the pace?”
Before Clarisse could respond—though it was unlikely she’d have managed a coherent word anyway—Annabeth shifted her hand, her movements becoming more purposeful, more precise.
The effect was immediate. Clarisse’s knees buckled, her head falling back against the wall as a ragged gasp tore from her throat. Her hands trembled, reaching forward to grip at Annabeth’s hands for a moment, before reconsidering their course at seeing her raised eyebrows and then gripped the sink instead, so tightly her knuckles turned white, every muscle in her body straining against the tide of sensation crashing over her.
“Better?” Annabeth murmured, her voice like silk against Clarisse’s fraying nerves.
“Shut up,” Clarisse managed to grind out, though her words were breathless and strained, her composure unraveling with each passing second.
Annabeth leaned in, her lips brushing against Clarisse’s ear. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Clarisse’s breath hitched as Annabeth’s hand slid lower, teasing her the way she knew Clarisse loved and hated at the same time. Annabeth’s fingers nudged the toy a bit to the side and slid in beside them. Pleasure quickly overrode the slight sting of the stretch. She drew her fingers upwards maddeningly close but not quite
there
, her smirk widening as she felt Clarisse squirm beneath her touch.
“Annabeth,” Clarisse growled, her voice low and strained.
“Yes, love?” Annabeth’s tone was sweet, almost saccharine, as if she wasn’t intentionally driving Clarisse out of her mind.
“Stop playing games,” Clarisse bit out, though the desperation in her voice undermined her attempt at sounding commanding.
“Oh, but games are so much fun,” Annabeth replied, her smirk deepening. She shifted her hand slightly, her thumb brushing ever so lightly against Clarisse’s clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the other girl. “Don’t you think?”
Clarisse gritted her teeth, her grip on the sink tightening. “I swear to the gods, Chase, if you don’t—ah!” She cut herself off with a choked gasp as Annabeth finally curved her fingers just so, enough to send a jolt of heat through her body but not enough to offer any real relief.
Annabeth’s smirk softened into something more amused. “What was that, baby? You were saying something about swearing?”
Clarisse glared at her, though it lacked any real venom. “You’re evil,” she muttered.
“I know,” Annabeth said lightly, her thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles that were just shy of where Clarisse needed them to be. “But you love me anyway.”
Clarisse let out a frustrated groan, her body arching instinctively toward Annabeth’s touch. “Annabeth, please,” she ground out, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop them.
Annabeth paused, her hand stilling as she raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”
Clarisse’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “You heard me,” she muttered, refusing to meet Annabeth’s gaze.
“Oh, I did,” Annabeth said, her smirk returning. “But I think I’d like to hear it again.”
Clarisse shot her a glare, her pride warring with her growing desperation. “I hate you,” she said instead, though her voice was shaky.
Annabeth tilted her head, feigning disappointment. “Wrong answer.” Her fingers moved again, slower this time, teasing and torturous. “Try again, love.”
Clarisse bit down on her lip, her hands trembling as they gripped the sink behind her. She wanted to hold out, wanted to cling to the last shreds of her pride, but the way Annabeth was
looking
at her—with that infuriatingly smug smirk and those sharp, knowing eyes—made it impossible.
“Annabeth,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.
“Yes?”
“Please,” Clarisse whispered, the word barely audible.
Annabeth’s smirk softened, but her fingers didn’t stop their maddeningly slow movements. “One more time, sweetheart. Just a little louder.”
Clarisse groaned, her head falling back against the wall. “
Please
,” she said again, louder this time, the desperation clear in her voice.
For a moment, Annabeth looked as though she might finally relent. Her fingers pressed a little harder, a little lower, drawing a choked gasp from Clarisse.
“Thankyou.” She choked out when Annabeth finally started rubbing her clit in circles, her fingers twisting and curling inside her at the perfect speed, taking her higher and higher until-
“You know, love,” Annabeth said, her tone mockingly thoughtful, “if you’d just asked nicely from the start, we wouldn’t be here.”
Just as the tension coiled inside her was about to snap, Annabeth… stopped.
Clarisse’s eyes flew open, her breathing ragged as she stared at Annabeth in disbelief. “What—why did you—?”
Annabeth leaned in, her lips brushing against Clarisse’s ear. “Because you’re cute when you’re frustrated,” she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement.
Clarisse's breath was coming in shallow bursts now, her entire body on the edge of breaking. Annabeth’s slow, torturous teasing had left her a quivering mess, her mind barely able to process anything except the intense pleasure building within her.
"You’re so frustrating," Clarisse muttered, her voice tight with the tension that had been mounting for far too long.
Her hands itched to move downwards, to give herself the relief that had been denied for so long. She knew she couldn’t. She knew her girlfriend would come up with a punishment far,
far
worse than now in retaliation.
What she didn’t know was if that thought was scary or exciting.
She put her hands back behind her from where they had attempted to move.
“Good girl,” Annabeth murmured, her fingers tracing slow circles. The words were softer this time, almost tender, but no less devastating. The faintest of touches enough to have Clarisse trembling beneath her.
“I think you like it,” she said in a voice dripping with amusement. “Like giving up control. Like begging. Do you even know what you’re begging for? Do you want me to continue till you finish or continue teasing you since you love it so much?”
Clarisse’s eyes were squeezed shut, trying desperately to hold onto whatever shred of composure she had left, but with each passing moment, it became harder. Her grip on the sink was white-knuckled as her hips involuntarily arched toward Annabeth’s hand, desperate for more.
“Annabeth, please,” Clarisse breathed out, barely able to form the words as the frustration built.
Annabeth’s lips curled into that infuriatingly smug grin, but just as she was about to push Clarisse further, the sound of the bathroom door creaked open.
The two froze, Clarisse’s heart pounding in her chest. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed in the bathroom—someone was coming.
"Shit," Clarisse hissed under her breath, her body still tingling with need, her head spinning. The sudden threat of being caught, the knowledge that someone was just outside the door, only seemed to heighten the sensation running through her veins.
“Someone’s coming,” Clarisse whispered, her voice tinged with both fear and excitement.
Annabeth’s eyes darkened, her hand pausing for a split second. But then her lips quirked up in that wicked smirk Clarisse had come to loathe and love in equal measure.
“Then you’d better keep quiet, sweetheart.”
Clarisse’s breath hitched, her body already shaking with the intensity of the situation. She could hear Piper’s voice now, muffled by the walls, not yet close enough to see, but so, so close.
Annabeth seemed to relish the power she held in this moment, the way her touch made Clarisse writhe, knowing that the very real risk of being caught only intensified everything. It felt like a dare, a challenge—and Clarisse couldn’t back down. She had to finish this, even if it meant—
“If she walks in here, what do you think she’ll say?” Annabeth’s voice was maddeningly calm, like she thrived on the tension.
Then, without warning, Annabeth’s fingers moved faster, the pressure finally overwhelming. Clarisse gasped, her body jerking forward instinctively, but just as she felt herself slipping, Annabeth pulled her hand away.
Clarisse’s eyes shot open, a strangled sound escaping her throat. "Annabeth! No, don’t you—"
Annabeth just smirked, her hand retreating slowly as Clarisse’s body screamed for release. "Don’t stop? You want her to hear you, baby? You want her to see you like this?"
The footsteps were growing louder, closer now. Clarisse couldn’t stand it. She felt herself teetering on the brink of madness, caught between the impossible tension inside her and the looming danger of being caught. She closed her eyes, barely able to stop herself from pleading again.
Her grip shifted, she caught her clit between two fingers and
pinched
.
Clarisse squeaked, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.
Annabeth leaned in close, brushing her lips against Clarisse’s ear. “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” she murmured. Then, with perfect timing, she pressed her fingers back into place, moving quicker this time, just as the bathroom door swung open fully.
Piper’s voice echoed from the doorway. “Hey, is anyone—”
Clarisse’s world seemed to explode in that moment, her body jerking violently, every nerve on fire as the release she had been craving finally washed over her. The sensation was so intense, so powerful, that she could barely even hear Piper’s voice now. All she could feel was the overwhelming flood of heat, her body shaking as Annabeth’s hand moved in sync with the waves of pleasure, prolonging it just a little longer.
Piper’s voice faltered for a moment, then laughed lightly, clearly
not
oblivious to the situation. “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Annabeth’s grin grew, her hand never faltering, even as Piper stepped into one of the stalls. "No harm done," Annabeth murmured, her voice low and full of satisfaction.
Clarisse, still trembling, could barely form a coherent thought, her breath ragged as the last of the sensations slowly ebbed away. Annabeth’s thumb circled once more before she pulled away completely, leaving Clarisse gasping for air, still catching her breath.
“Well," Annabeth whispered with a wicked glint in her eyes, "that was... interesting."
Clarisse could only glare weakly, still trying to regain control of her body. "You're insane," she muttered, her face flushed with both embarrassment and satisfaction. She was never gonna be able to look Piper in the eye again.
Annabeth’s laughter was soft but full of affection as she pressed her fingers, dripping with Clarisse’s fluids into her mouth. "And you love it."
Clarisse couldn’t help but smile back weakly, licking the offered fingers. “Maybe.”
Just as Piper's voice floated over from the other side of the bathroom, Annabeth pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s lips, tasting her from there before pulling back.
“Next time,” Annabeth whispered, “you won’t have to wait so long… if you behave, that is.”
They went over to the sinks. Annabeth to wash her hands and Clarisse to, well- attempt to salvage whatever was left of her that didn’t look like a sweaty mess.
Piper, standing by the middle sink, smirked at them through the mirrors. She gave Clarisse a once over, then glanced at Annabeth washing her hands and raised an eyebrow, “You aren’t taking it out?”
Clarisse choked.
Annabeth giggled - a sound she was sure she once adored, and still internally did but really really hated at the moment, “Ah, no. You wanna hold onto it, though? My schedule is packed for the afternoon.”
Piper hummed and Clarisse watched with horror as Annabeth casually removed the tiny remote from her back pocket and passed it to the daughter of Aphrodite. “Have fun babe.”
“Oh, I will.”
Piper winked at her through the mirrors.