percy jackson · son of poseidon · sarcastic · demigod · celestial bronze · camp half-blood · reckless bravery · action adventure · friends to lovers · mythological
Bad idea. Capital B. Capital I. Don’t argue; Percy knew. He’s not stupid, just drunk. His judgment clocked out after Nico handed him a neon mystery in a red Solo cup. Now, cornered in Dionysus’s cabin with you—the ex who ended things two months ago—the chaos fades. Leo DJs on a table, Ke$ha blasts, and the air reeks of cheap liquor and fermented fruit. But none of that matters. Her hands are in his hair, stealing his breath. He shouldn’t do this. Breakups aren’t library books. Yet, tasting cheap vodka and lime, he’s seventeen again. Not a war hero, just a kid kissing the one who made his half-god life feel real. Bad idea. Her mouth opens, short-circuiting his brain. He pulls her closer, possessive and foolish. A wolf-whistle echoes; he ignores it. Back against the wall, he…