eis

Percy Jackson, was the demigod that has fought monsters older than the actual civilization, stared down gods who could end him with a movement of hand, fell into the Tartarus and climbed back.

And none of that prepared him for you.

It's on a normal Wednesday afternoon, which feels unfair. He’s leaning against the railing near Bethesda Terrace, the stone warm beneath his palms, watching sunlight ripple across the water, trying to remember the ocean.

New York hums around him— distant sirens, a street musician tuning a guitar, tourists laughing loudly— and then you turn toward him, hair doing that thing it always does when the wind catches it.

Percy thinks, very plainly, that this is it.

You’re talking— about normal stuff. A barista who spelled your name wrong. A dog you saw on the subway that looked like his owner. Percy laughs, because he always does when you talk, because somehow you make even the boring things feel amazing.

He realizes, distantly, that anyone with a heart would agree that it's so—.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, squinting a little, half-smiling while arching an eyebrow.

Percy blinks. He hadn’t meant to get caught. “Like what?”

“Like I'm saying something profound.”

“You did,” he says automatically.

You snort. “I complained about oat milk.”

“Exactly.”

You shake your head, amused, and start walking again. Percy falls into step beside you without thinking. He always does.

It's like gravity has decided you’re his center now.

Central Park stretches ahead of you, green and endless, a miracle squeezed between buildings that scrape the sky. Percy’s walked these paths his whole life, but walking them with you feels like discovering them for the first time. As if the city’s been holding its breath, waiting for you to show up.

You brush your hair back, casual, unthinking. Percy notices the way your fingers move, the way you tuck it behind your ear like you’ve done it a thousand times.

Today you did your hair in that style he loves, the one that makes him want to hug you and smell your shampoo while he dozes off.

Gods, he’s gone.

You stop near the water, leaning over the railing. “You good, Seaweed Brain?”

“Yeah,” Percy replies. Then, because he can’t help himself, “Just thinking.”

“Uh-oh.”

He smiles. “That bad, huh?”

“You tend to overthink... It’s kind of your thing!”

“Rude.”

“Accurate.”

Percy watches the reflection of the city shimmer in the water, your reflection tangled up with it. He wants—suddenly, fiercely— to tell you everything. That you feel like fresh air after all the prophecies he's lived. That being with you makes him feel normal like he’s just a boy from New York. That loving you is the easiest thing he has ever done.

But he doesn’t say it.

Saturday nights in New York have a rhythm Percy knows by heart.

They smell like hot pavement and garlic knots, grease-stained cardboard boxes folded under one arm. They sound like distant traffic and laughter leaking out of open windows, like music thumping through walls that are way thin. They feel alive, anything could happen.

And now, he can use those nights to be with you.

Tonight, it’s just you, perched on the edge of his couch, cross-legged, holding a slice of pizza like it’s sacred.

“This place shouldn’t be allowed to exist,” you say while munching. “It’s sooo good.”

Percy grins around his own bite. “I told you. Best pizza within a five-block radius.”

“You say that about every place.”

“Because I only speak the truth.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and Percy feels it again— that quiet, overwhelming sense that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

There's no monsters, no quests and not a sinking prophecy breathing on his neck. Just you, and pizza, and the city sounds outside the windows.

That recurring thought comes back to him once again.

‘Anyone with a heart would agree,’ he thinks, watching the way you lean back, content, hair falling messily over your shoulder.

Falling in love with you is so easy.

At some point, the music from the apartment downstairs drifts up through the floor— something smooth, warm, a little romantic. Percy doesn’t know the song, but it fits anyway. Like it knows what’s happening before he does.

“You wanna go up?” he asks suddenly, nodding toward the door.

“The roof?”

“Yeah. It’s a good night.”

You hesitate only a second before nodding. “Okay, but let me use your hoodie.”

The city greets you when you step outside. The air is cooler up here, carrying that late-summer almost-fall weather. The skyline stretches out, all glowing windows, people walking through the streets to go back home or to party.

You walk to the edge, resting your arms on the low wall. Percy stands beside you, so close he can feel your warmth without touching.

“God,” you murmur. “I’ll never get used to this.”

The wind plays with your hair again, and Percy thinks that you are fresh air, something clean and good in a world that’s always asking too much of him. You laugh softly at something on the street below, and Percy’s chest tightens.

‘Perfect mix,’ he thinks. ‘Saturday night and..’ something more. Something lasting.

He swallows. You're right about him being an overthinker king. This is the part where the thought creeps in, uninvited but persistent.

She’s mortal.

It lands heavy, like a big stone dropped into calm water.

You don’t know about monsters or gods or the way the world can go to shit without your eyes being able to see reality. You deserve mornings that aren’t haunted by his nightmares, a life where danger doesn’t lurk. Someone normal.

Percy steps back an inch without meaning to.

You notice immediately, turning to look at him.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “What just happened in your head?”

He exhales a laugh that isn’t really one. “Do I really make it that obvious?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He rubs the back of his neck, staring out at the city now, like it might give him answers. “I just— sometimes I think about… whether I’m the right person to be standing here with you.”

Your brow furrows. “Percy.”

“You deserve a normal life,” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop. “Someone who doesn’t come with… complications. You know— my ADHD and—”

Well, all that demigod part. But before he can talk more you speak.

“Do I look unhappy?”

“No,” he says immediately, his eyes back to you.

“Do I look like I’m missing something?”

“No.”

“Then don’t decide for me,” you say gently. “Okay?”

Percy’s breath stutters. The city keeps moving behind you— cars threading light through the streets, music floating up from somewhere below— but the moment narrows until it’s just the two of you and the space between your words.

“Okay,” he says, softer than he means to.

You don’t smile right away. Instead, you step closer. Close enough that he can feel your warmth once again, close enough that his hands curl uselessly at his sides, unsure if he’s allowed.

Then you lift your hands.

Your palms cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing lightly along his jaw, and Percy forgets— briefly— how to breathe. Your touch is careful, but certain. Like you know exactly what you’re doing.

Because you’ve decided.

He looks at you, eyes wide, and you lean in making your foreheads almost touch.

“This,” you murmur, voice barely there, “doesn’t feel complicated.”

And then you kiss him.

It’s unhurried and intentional. Your lips press against his, giving him time to catch up, like you’re letting him know this isn’t something that needs to be earned or fought for. Percy’s hands come up instinctively, resting at your waist, grounding himself in the reality of you.

The city fades. You're so warm.

It's just the soft exhale you let out against his mouth, the way your thumbs stroke his skin in that familiar way you always do.

When you pull back, you stay close— still holding his face, smiling like you’ve just proved a point.

“See?” you say quietly. “Normal.”

Percy lets out a breathy laugh, forehead dropping to yours. “Yeah,” he says, voice warm and a little stunned. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

You laugh too, soft and close, and he feels it in his chest more than he hears it. The music from below drifts up again, the night itself is rooting for you.

Percy squeezes you a little closer, heart full in a way that doesn’t hurt at all.

If this is what normal feels like, he thinks—

he’s more than okay with it.

You're the perfect mix of Saturday nights and the rest of his life. The girl of his dreams.

★ eiris 2026. proofreaded ! ❩

— 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦 𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 9.8 / 10

Percy melts the moment the kiss registers in his head.

At first, there’s surprise, not because he doesn’t want it ! But because he thinks: "Omg!! I'm a lucky guy". Your lips meet his and it’s like his entire nervous system sighs in relief. His posture softens immediately, like he’s been carrying something heavy and just set it down. His hands don't even hesitate for half a second— settling on you happily.

He kisses back instinctively, warmly, the affection for you is muscle memory by now. He leans into you without thinking, eyes closed in an instant, head tilting. You can feel the way his breath gets slower.

And the melting part?

It’s in the way he forgets everything else. The way his thumb absently rubs at your side, not trying to be impressive, just present. The way he smiles into the kiss like he can’t help it.

When you pull away, he doesn’t open his eyes right away. He rests his forehead against yours, grinning, cheeks faintly flushed and then he gives you little pecks.

If this were to be posted on TikTok, the comments would be ruthless: “OH HE FOLDED.”

And Percy would watch it later with you, laughing and pretending not to notice how true it is.

— 𝑗𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 7 / 10

Jason already thinks something is up the moment you get that look with your big smile too innocent. And then you reach for him like you’re about to tickle him — which immediately puts him on alert, he closes his arms and grips your wrists as he gently but firmly stops you.

“Why are you doing that?”

He doesn’t know it’s a trend. He just knows he doesn't like getting tickled and he’s trying to figure out what kind of trap this is.

So when you lean in instead and kiss him, it catches him completely off guard.

The suspicion evaporates, replaced by startled warmth. His grip loosens instantly, hand sliding from your wrist to your side and he kisses back a beat late, like he had to recalibrate and then, pfft, Gods, he wants it.

The kiss deepens. Jason leans in with intensity, like he’s trying to pour everything he didn’t say into the contact. His hand stays firm at your waist but you can feel how badly he wants to pull you closer, how much he loves kissing you.

And then the camera exists again.

He pulls back just a fraction, cheeks warm, eyes flicking around, suddenly remembering the recording object. His expression is a mix of flustered and confused like he’s still processing how he went from “are you about to tickle me?” to this.

Later, when you show him the video and explain it’s a trend, he just stares at the screen, mortified.

“…People are going to see that?”

On TikTok, the comments would eat him alive:

“HE WANTED TO GO BACK IN.”or “Why did he look mad at the camera?”

— 𝑙𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 8.7 / 10

Luke does not hesitate when you kiss him and for sure he does not behave.

The second your lips are over his, he’s already responding, not politely at all. His hand comes to you like it belongs there, confident and certain, fingers settling at your hip or your lower back with no apology. There’s no pause to it and kinda kisses you like the camera isn’t even real.

And the melt? Immediate but not in a soft.

Luke melts forward. The kiss deepens fast, his body angling into yours, a bit overwhelming even. He adjusts instinctively, stepping closer, guiding you with a subtle pressure like he’s forgotten this was meant to be a quick, playful thing.

If there’s a height difference, he uses it without thinking; lifting you off the ground, hands on your ass.

When you pull away, he looks amused, breath slightly heavier, eyes pleased like he’s just realized he gave the internet far more than asked for. There’s a crooked smile as if to say, 'yeah, and I’d do it again'.

On TikTok, the comments would be:

“YO' MAN WAS HUNGRY.”“HELLO?? THE PICK HER UP??”

— 𝑙𝑒𝑜 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑧

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 10 / 10

Leo collapses into the kiss, would say it's crazy but, what are we expecting from the Leo Valdez?

There is no suspicion, the moment you step close and lift your hands to his cheeks, he’s already laughing, already leaning in and already halfway gone. He doesn’t think why is this happening?— he thinks 'Oh! This!! This is good' .

So when you kiss him, it’s instant response.

There's no delay between contact and reaction. His hands come up immediately, warm and sure, one at your back, one curling into your clothes as the kiss fucks up his brain chemestry. He kisses back eagerly, with that soft desperation that comes from wanting something badly and not pretending otherwise.

His posture folds toward you, quite literally forgets about personal space entirely, smiles into the kiss because he can’t help it. And if you pull back too soon, he follows without thinking, eyes still closed for half a second.

If this were on TikTok, the comments would be unanimous for once:

“THAT WAS IMMEDIATE.” or “HE DIDN’T EVEN TRY.”

— 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 8 / 10

Will is so comfy about all this is low-key heart warming.

When you kiss him, there’s no big reaction. He just smiles into it, so warm, like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. His lips respond softly, without urgency. There’s a calm affection in the way he kisses you, something reassuring.

His hands rest on you gently just holding, he wants you close but doesn’t need to prove it. He leans in enough to stay connected, enough to feel you there, but never overwhelming. The melt is in the way shoulders relax, his breath gets slower and there's that faint hum of contentment you can feel in your heart.

If there’s a camera, he doesn’t care and if there isn’t, it’s the same.

When you pull back, he keeps smiling so stupidly fond. He might brush his thumb over your cheek afterward, a normal gesture he does like second nature.

On TikTok, the comments would be so sweet-tooth:

“Why does he look so safe to be with?” or “That’s a comfort person.”

—𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑙

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 9.5 / 10

Connor clocks what you’re doing immediately !!

The angle you have your phone in and the way you step to close your arms around his neck. He grins like he’s already won, eyebrows lifting as if to say 'oh, how cute.' He leans back a fraction, hands up in mock surrender, fully playing to the camera.

“Nope,” he says, smiling wide. “I know this one.”

If you lean in, he dodges just barely— not enough to escape, bur enough to be a little tease. He laughs, light and cocky, clearly enjoying the delay, clearly determined not to be the first one to crack. He wants the suspense and the audience to think he’s immune!!

But he can't stop looking at the tiny pout over your lips.

When you finally catch him and your lips brush his for real he freezes for a half-second, his body forgetting to stick to the script. He tries to keep it playful, tries to kiss back lightly, like 'yeah, whatever, no big deal'.

And then your hand is caressing the scalp in the back of his neck just to make him lose it.

His hands come to you, pulling you in— he's done playing with you now! The kiss deepens with enthusiasm replacing teasing. He leans into you fully, hungry for affection energy that feels less like melting and more like he's close to taking you to bed.

When you pull back, he’s grinning with uneven breath, eyes bright, he’s proud of himself for lasting as long as he did. After all you are the love of his life !

“Okay,” he says, nodding once. “Worth it.”

On camera, it’s painfully obvious:

How he tried to dodge, and how he folded anyway, forgetting this was supposed to be a joke to his pretty girl.

The comments would be:

“WHY DID HE TRY TO FIGHT IT.” or “He held out for a whole THREE SECONDS.”

—𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑙

𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑒𝑑 : 7.5 / 10

Travis doesn’t clock it as fast as Connor.

He notices the phone, sure — he’s not oblivious — but he doesn’t immediately jump to thinking it's a trend. He just raises an eyebrow, gives you that knowing look, he’s waiting to see what you’re about to try.

If you step closer, he doesn’t move away.

If Connor plays to the camera, Travis ignores it entirely; his attention stays on you, only you.

When you kiss him, the reaction is almost instant but still restrained.

He exhales softly into the kiss, shoulders loosening. His lips respond gently at first, slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring it rather than rushing toward anything. One hand comes up to rest at your waist or your back.

The longer the kiss lasts, the more obvious it becomes. He leans in gradually, closing the distance bit by bit, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. His thumb traces a small, absent-minded motion where he’s holding you, something unconscious and intimate, his body is speaking as his mouth does.

When you pull back, he doesn’t chase more but he doesn’t step away either.

He stays close, forehead nearly touching yours, eyes soft, mouth curved in the faintest smile like he’s amused at himself.

The comments would be perceptive rather than feral:

“Wait why was that actually tender.” or “He didn’t melt fast, but oh boy was giving it all.”

★ eiris 2025 proofreaded ! ❩

(( 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝒽𝑒𝑟𝑒 )) 𝓂𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⸝⸝ 𝑝𝑗𝑜 & 𝒽𝑜𝑜 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠