Percy Jackson x Reader (To Tartarus With Books)

(A/N: Me, as an avid reader, would normally slap Percy silly for saying that. But, he is dyslexic, so I'm pretty sure books would be a pain in the butt. Anyways, I was looking at some brunette boy finding it hard to read at the library on the weekends. His sister - at least, I think that other brunette was his sister - teased him about his dyslexia. I have a younger brother who has ADHD, and my mum says I have to be patient with him and whatnot. The brunette boy - who his sister called 'Max' - reminded me of my brother and Bianca with Nico, and it got me thinking, would Percy be like that? Frustrated and pissed with books?
Probably.
So, that sparked the idea for this, and I got typing!

STRONG LANGUAGE ALERT!
Let's read tis ting!)
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Your P.O.V:

While you're sitting on the bench of a park, your Irish Setter, Rose, is off galloping in the grass, deciding to torture an innocent tennis ball. Although you're normally the girl to appreciate the landscape, you wished to sit somewhere outside and read for a while. Your mother is a well-known fashion designer/blogger and your father is more of a writer, and makes a large profit off of selling fantasy/adventure books.

Suddenly, Rose leaps onto your lap. Instantly, you place a bookmark on your page and stuff the book in your bag. Rose hasn't been taken for a walk yet, and because she's an Irish Setter, she needs regular, long walks. Otherwise, she's hyperactive and destructive. Out of nowhere, she grabs your bag in her mouth and legs it, going pretty fast. You huff in surprise, "Rose! Come back here, you evil thing!" Sprinting over, you try capturing her, but she's much faster than you'd imagine.

Panting, you finally stop. Pushing a few (h/c) locks out of your face, you continue to slowly walk over to Rose. She has a dog expression saying, Seriously?

You roll your eyes. "Rose . . . give my bag back. It doesn't belong to you; plus, it has a lot of my precious stuff in it."

Your Irish Setter raises an eyebrow, as if to say, Let's how precious the stuff is then.

"Oh, hell no." You mutter darkly. Rose sprints away. Puffing, you walk over to Rose, cursing under your breath. "I hate you, you corrupted hellhound!"

While you're trudging along, someone whistles past you, and they knock you over.

Your back shrieks in pain whenever you try to get up.

"I'm so sorry! Gods, are you OK?" A silhouetted figure appears in front of you, a concerned expression on his features.

"Nah, I'm f-fine," You assure him.

Tilting his head, he's deciphering whether you're being sarcastic or you're genuinely unharmed. Wincing as you try to get up, you bite your lip. "Alright, I'm not OK."

"Hang on." The boy says. He places an arm under you, hoists you up, though your back still hurts, and you get a better view of him. His eyes are a deep sea-green, and he has jet-black hair. Slightly smelling like sea water, though.

Smiling, he carefully pulls up your gathered neck, pale blue blouse at the back. Instantly, you feel like he's a pervert, but then you realize he's just inspecting your back for any physical damage. That smile is sarcastic, cute in a scruffy way. It brands him instantly as 'trouble'. If you'd met this guy at the mall, you would steer clear of him after a quick conversation.

He grabs a water bottle, squirts a small pool into his hand, approaches your back and the water levitates. Unusually, your back's skin immediately absorbs the water, and it no longer feels like someone's beating you continuously with a baseball bat.

Suddenly, you decide to drop the 'cool' act and gasp, "H-how did you . . . do that?" He frowns, as if debating internally on how much to tell you. Then you say, "Surprise me."

Smirking, he says, "I'm Percy Jackson. Being the son of the sea god has its perks."

(E/c) eyes widening, your jaw drops. "A god? You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope." He replies, making more water float round the two of you. "Deadly serious. So, what's your name?"

"My name's (Full Name). Or just (Name)." You respond. Suddenly, Percy's eyes dart over to something in the distance. Turning, you see a deformed creature with fiery - literally, its hair is a roaring flame - hair, mismatched legs and a long dress torn and singed at the edges. Percy quickly gets up, and grabs a ballpoint pen from his pocket. He uncaps it, and it turns into five foot long glowing sword. He glances at you.

"That's a sword you're holding. A long, glowing sword." You point out the obvious.

"No . . ." he begins. "It's the world's longest and largest toothpick."

Laughing nervously, you say, "Uh, no. It's long, it's glowing and plus the fact I don't think toothpicks have a hilt."

He curses under his breath, in some ancient, foreign language, since you've never heard of it. "Right. You see through the Mist. Like Rachel."

You frown quizzically.

Percy explains, "The Mist is masks what actually happens from mortals. Humans only see what their slow brains can comprehend. Like, if you couldn't see through the Mist, Riptide would seem like a regular pen to you." He gestures to the sword.

"So, what's that thing over there?" You ask, pointing.

"Oh, that's Kelli the empousa." Percy shrugs, as if he saw flaming-haired women all the time, which, as a demigod, he probably did. "She disguises herself as a cheerleader."

You nod. 

"(Name) . . ."

"Yeah?"

"You might want to get behind m -"

Razor sharp, jagged claws slice the air inches from your nose. The flaming-haired thing had attacked. Instantly, you jog round behind Percy. He fends the Kelli off, slashing and hacking at her. Suddenly, she brings those horrible nails down and knocks Percy a few feet.

"Oh, shi-it!" You murmur. Now your demigod protector has been harmed. "Percy! Are you feeling OK?" You crouch down, waving your hand in his face.

"I'm fine . . . I think." He has a few cuts and bruises that look infected.

"Oh, fucking hell naw did you just harm Fish Face!" You angrily hiss. Picking up a fallen tree branch, you whack it at Kelli. She crumbles to a pile of golden dust.

"Uuh . . ." Percy grumbles in awe. "You just took down a senior empousa armed with nothing but a tree branch."

When he puts like that, your blush slightly.

Percy gets up, brushes himself down and says, "Well. I wanna know more about you, Branch Girl."

"I read a lot. I'm known for finishing five inch thick books in a few days." You say. "Do you read?"

"Cool! Nope. To Tartarus with books, I say! Being dyslexic and having ADHD, I don't have the patience to sit down and all the words are jumbled up for me."

"Oh, right. I also have a dog, an Irish Setter, Rose." You point to Rose, who was perched on a bench, calmly watching the whole scene.

"Does she bite?" Percy asks.

"No. Not unless you're a threat. Though it's natural for her, as her breed is a type of gundog: dogs used to help hunters and whatnot."

The brunette nods.

Out of nowhere, Rose dog-glomps Percy, caking his face in dog saliva.

You chuckle as Percy struggles under her thick, scarlet fur. "(N-name)! Help me."

"Right, Rose! Get off him." You carefully tug on her collar and she hops off the son of Poseidon. 

"Well, Fish Face -"

He gives you a warning look.

You snigger. "Anyway, you think you're gonna stick around, Jackson?"

Smirking and getting up, he says, "Y'know, I just might."
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