calamitous love

love u 2 the moon and 2 saturn / requests closed; (irregular) writings every friday

[cyberball]

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bye for now! have fun cruising the not wide web of cyberball! <3🦩

[cyberball]

caspian x oc fic

HELLO GUYS!!!!! this is a little announcement that i am starting a long(maybe) fic on ao3 under the user midwestprincesss of a prince caspian x oc. currently there's only caspian's prologue out, and honestly as is with all my works, the updates will be sloooooooooow, but yeah. I'll be posting maria's prologue soon, so if you wanna check it out, see if it interests you, tag along for the long haul, please do!! xoxoxo

if u want 2 read the first prologue, read it here!

[cyberball]

glimpse of him

jason grace x reader / no pronouns used / rq

warnings: mentions of death, gratuitous use of the em dash, mentions of haunting (?), jason grace more like jason GRAVE

summary: sometimes you catch a glimpse of him.

genre: not fluffy. pretty angsty, if i'm gonna be honest. i don't know how to write angst, so bear with me.

notes: to whoever has sent the request, i'm so sorry. like for real. i was just going through my asks and i found that one and i was like... wait... because i'm an alive!jason truther as much as the next person but. well. here you have it xox. also sorry for the rushed writing el oh el

15:54 | 541 words

It’s been three weeks since– since…

You can’t even say it. There are no words in any language to describe the pain you feel and have been feeling. Guilt, sure – you could’ve helped – but the most overpowering emotion is hollow hurt. It aches like the depths of Tartarus in the chasm he’s left in you. There used to be anger – how could he have left you like this? – but that sweet, strong soldier of a man? It could never be his fault. Never.

Then there’s fear. What if you forget him? You suddenly have this heartwrenching vision of you in 10 years, moved on and happy with your life. Guilty, guilty. How could you leave him behind like that? You’re suddenly terrified of forgetting him. Your mind reels as you go back over the plethora of memories you’ve created with the blond boy, grasping at fragments, as if committing them to memory, as if they’re not already burned there.

This is how you spend the next few days. Just remembering him. But you only had so much time together. You only had so many chances to make memories. And that’s how you end up staring at the ceiling a month after his– his…

Jason. That boy. Grace was– Grace is the correct name for him. The sweetest boy you know. All composed and strong and regal; blond hair and blue eyes and arms that look like they were sculpted from marble. The kindest soul, the safest arms. Your bed is ice cold where he used to lay. Ice cold like his body was after– 

“You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet, did you?”

You jolt. 

“Jas– Jason?” your voice trembles. God, a little pathetic, no? He’s the one who…

Eyes closed. You can almost feel him. “Jason? Sweet?” you ask again, voice steady, a poor imitation of his. You can’t help it, your eyes well up with hot tears.

“I miss you. You’ve been gone a while. When are you coming back?” you ask into the silence. 

”I’m right here,” he coaxes, “right here, love. Can’t you feel me?”

Hollow. Empty, still. Your hands lamely feel around on the bed for that grounding warmth of his, but all you find is fleeting, and all you feel is cold. Your tears run hot streaks down your face, and as you pull up your legs and tuck your chin over your knees, your legs bear the brunt of your sadness too. Your skin pricks, and oh– oh, gods, it hurts. It hurts.

“Jason, Jason– I can’t, I can’t feel you, please,” you plead miserably. He’s gone. Again. “Wait, no, come back, it’s okay, I can just hear you, I don’t have to–” your sobs cut you off. And again. Your heart physically hurts, and you grasp at it, trying to get back to him. Just… just him.

He’ll come back like this often throughout your life. Sometimes during lightning storms, you can smell him. You’ll play his favourite playlist and you’ll hear him singing along. Always lingering, never there. And you’ll be glad to have it; after all, you didn’t think –or want it, for that matter– you’d be able to get rid of him, did you?

tagging: @dreamerball @drvrslcense @quteez (am taking old taglists sorryy)

[cyberball]

hi love! i really really love your works so far but can i have a blurb/oneshot of jason grace x reader using the line “You didn’t think you’d be able to get rid of me just yet did you?" ? tysm! have a great day, sweetie!

this is an ask from three years ago BUT. BUT..... I MIGHT BE WORKING ON STH............. I'll link it here if sth comes of it sweet xx

send an ask if u wanna be tagged, will be posted soon!

POSTED! go show it some love xxx

[promitto-amor]

When the real baby comes

King Caspian X You

Summary: When King Caspian's wife is missing one morning, Caspian sets out to track her down after hearing some surprising news. (Post the Dawn Treader)

Warnings: None! Quite fluffy!

I couldn't have jumped fictional men more than going from Mark Hoffman to Caspian, but here we are far down the rabbit hole of one of my old childhood crushes. I've never written anything for Caspian so it was time to do him justice. Plus KING Caspian just does something to me. There is soooo much potential for him!

Caspian always missed his Queen’s warmth whenever she chose to wake before him. Rolling onto his back, the left side of the bed was cold, the pillow still at a diagonal from where the Queen had slept. His hand runs over the sheet as his mind wanders to just what could have lulled his wife from Caspian’s arms. Most likely an early morning ride, but you could do that any day. Perhaps you’d gone to make breakfast as you were sometimes inclined to do. Maybe you’ll come striding in with a picnic basket, ready to invite Caspian out to the shores of Cair Paravel.

It is a Sunday after all, the one day you and Caspian always dedicate to each other. It would be nice to spend one of the last days of Autumn on the beach before it gets too cold to enjoy it.

Caspian lets the daydreams linger as he fully comes round for the day. There is still no sign of you, and so Caspian pulls back the duvet, pushes back his hair and attempts to face the day. At lease Sundays mean no holding court and there are no diplomatic guests to host this week. It’s a rare day that is entirely Caspian’s own and he intends to spend it with his wife.

There is a note left on the bedside table, that’s more like his Queen. Caspian reads it with one hand while he pulls out a dark shirt and matching pants to wear for the day.

You’ve gone out with the wolves, again? That makes it seven times in one month, which is generally excessive. What would be so important that you couldn’t wait to tell him in person?

Shrugging on boots and an overcoat, Caspian sticks his head out of the Royal Quarters, “Trufflehunter?” There’s a small cough from an armchair a short way down the corridor, near the stairs. “I know you’re there.” Caspian stands in the doorway, hands resting on his hips.

“My King,” The badger comes shuffling to greet him, dropping his head in a show of respect, “Good Morning.”

“I hope it will be,” Caspian glances behind the badger, but no one else is with him, “The Queen left me a note saying she’s out with the wolves. I know that means you’ve seen her today.”

The badger appears to be acting sheepish, “Well…yes.” He says, “You know how the Queen is, my King. There is no persuading her to wait when her mind is set on something.”

“Did she tell you what is so important that she’s out with the pack again?”

“She said she was getting in some training with the youngest cub.” Trufflehunter is fiddling with his fingers, “After all, no one has a way with the wolves like Her Majesty does.”

Caspian hand comes to rub at his face, “Yes she has mentioned that, but why does she not wish for me to join her? Don’t think I haven’t noticed she likes to go out when I’m preoccupied, or having a rest.”

“I’m certain you do so much for Narnia, that rearing wolf cubs is the last of your priorities.”

Caspian can’t quite fight back his sigh as he sags against the doorframe, “Alright time to come clean, old friend.”

The badger sputters at once, “Your Majesty?”

“What is she hiding?”

“Nothing!” But on a stern look from Caspian the badger crumbles, “If I am entirely honest with you, I don’t quite know.” Trufflehunter’s nose droops in the direction of the carpeted floor, “Her Majesty has been acting suspicious as of late. Last night Trumpkin found her ensuring her tack was prepared, most likely for today’s excursion.”

“She’s taken Tempest?” Caspain’s alarm begins to rise, “Why are they going so far as to need her horse?”

“Wolves run fast?”

Caspian’s had enough, if Trufflehunter will only give him half-answers then Caspian will go to his next source. The badger hurries after him as Caspian takes long strides towards the breakfast room. Seated at the long table, Trumpkin the Dwarf drops his toast on his beard on seeing the King’s expression, “I told her to wait for you!”

“What is she up to?” Caspian doesn’t bother with a greeting, he and Trumpkin go too far back to bother with niceties.

“You know what’s she’s like with those bloody wolves.” Trumpkin resumes buttering his toast, “Obsessed with them. I know how much she did to make the Narnians accept the wolves again after the White Witch, but they got on fine before she started hand rearing them herself. Wild animals, aren’t they, even if they do talk.”

“There’s more to this than either of you are letting on.” Caspian deduces, catching the look Trumpkin sends Trufflehunter between Caspian’s legs. He takes a measured breath, aware of the other Narnians present at the breakfast table, including Lord Bern. “My Apologies,” Caspian offers.

“A runaway Queen, dear Aslan my boy.” Lord Bern shakes his head, “Could it be something you have said or done?” Caspian thinks back, “No…I don’t think so?”

Had he, was his Queen off galavanting with her wolves because of him?

“No,” Trumpkin is quick to interject, “No, no nothing like that! She just said that she wants to practise with the littlest cub, so that she’s ready for when the real baby comes.”

Silence falls as Trumpkin’s eyes widen. His hand slaps over his mouth as Caspian’s adrenaline surges into overdrive. He looks back to Trufflehunter to find the badger too is glowering at the dwarf, “Well done.” The badger rolls his eyes, “A fine way to tell him.”

Lord Bern rises from his seat, “My King…”

Caspian’s body feels like lead, his feet trip over one another as he tears out of the breakfast hall, “Excuse me, Lord Bern!” He shouts, breaking into a run. Caspian knows he must look a stare, running through the halls of his castle, out onto the grounds and practically slamming open the stable doors.

Destrier lifted his head lazily, “What’s got you so upset?” The horse asks, watching as Caspian seizes the nearest saddle.

“We need to find the Queen.” Caspian’s voice is the one he uses when leading into battle. It’s a tone Destrier picks up on straight away, as the horse doesn’t complain when Caspian fixes his bridle in place and swiftly mounts him.

“Which way?” Destrier asks and Caspian pauses, stricken for a moment. Would you go North to Owlwood, or South near the Rush River?

If you were training a wolf cub, Caspian is certain you would want to end up near the Dancing Lawn, or perhaps pay your respects at the Stone Table? He sets off heading South and vows to ride until he finds you.

Once they are out of Cair Paravel and the surrounding villages, Destrier wrinkles his nose, “I smell wolves.” He calls, “We’re on the right track.”

“Good,” Caspian calls, pushing Destrier into a full gallop. “I hope you’re ready for quite the ride, my friend. My wife doesn’t exactly keep near the castle.”

“She’s as bad as you!” Destrier returns.

Over an hour into their ride, Caspian hasn’t seen any sight of you. Destrier continues to follows the wolves air scent, which is good enough for now. Caspian’s kept busy by the whirlwind of thoughts rattling through him. Finally, when they are almost at the Dancing Lawn, Destrier whinnies. A wolf is padding along through the grass, unable to camouflage itself amongst the crunchy Autumnal leaves. As Caspian’s eyes peer through the trees, more wolves come into sight till finally Caspian spies Tempest, your blindingly white horse walking dutifully by your side.

You’ve heard Caspian’s noisy arrival, as he slows Destrier to a stop beside you, “Caspian?” His name leaves your lips as he swings a leg off Destrier and drops onto the ground, “What on Earth are you doing following me?”

“Is it true?” He’s panting so hard he can barely get the words out. You come to a stop, one hand wrapped around a golden lead. On the other end is a snow white wolf cub, barely twelve weeks old.

“Is what true?” You ask, bewildered at the sudden appearance of your winded, sweaty husband.

Caspian glances at the wolves, who have started to inch closer to their friend. Caspian knows they would never hurt him, not since becoming friends of Narnia, but it’s still disconcerting to have your entire pack’s eyes on him. He takes you gently by the arm, “Are you pregnant?”

Caspian’s question sends a ripple through the animals. The wolf closest to the cub, one Caspian knows as Dara comes to stand by her cub on instinct, while your horse, Tempest inhales loudly beside you. Caspian cares for no one’s reaction but your own. Your mouth falls open softly, “Who told you that?”

“Trumpkin said you were out here practising.” Caspian takes your hands in his own, the cub’s lead dropping amongst the leaves. “You must know you don’t have to run from me, or feel like you can’t tell me.”

“Caspian,” You begin, but Caspian has to get it out.

“I know we haven’t spoken about it much, but I would be more joyful than-”

“Caspian.” You say laying a hand on your husbands chest. Your firm tone combined with your touch is enough to settle Caspian just to hear your answer.

Your eyes soften further, sympathy shining through as your hand runs up his chest to cup his cheek. He doesn’t expect the plummet his heart takes as Caspian can read the answer on your face, “I’m not pregnant.” You murmur, thumb stroking his stubbled cheek.

He maintains the eye contact and you don’t break it, “You’re certain?”

“We would smell if the Queen was with child.” Dara says, nosing at her own cub. “She would smell stronger.”

Your other hand takes Caspian’s own and lead him away from the pack, behind a large Hickory tree, “You came riding all this way, because you thought I was pregnant?”

“You have been out with the wolves often, I have noticed.” Caspian insists, clutching to his reasoning which seems wild now he thinks on it. “Trumpkin said you were practising for when the real baby comes.”

“Ah,” You bite the inside of your cheek, “I can see where he became confused.” You say, your tone still annoying gentle. “I am out working with the wolves, but not because I’m expecting. If I was with child Caspian, I promise you that you would be the first to know. I wouldn’t leave you clueless.”

Caspian swallows, working through the information, “Trufflehunter also seems to believe you are.”

“Those two spend most of their mornings gossiping together.” You roll your eyes, pushing some of Caspian’s unruly hair out of his eyes, “You should hear what they say about the Dryads.”

Caspian allows you to gently fuss over him. Your touch never fails to calm him as his arms wrap around your waist and his nose buries into your neck. You hold him tight and Caspian tries to push down the swell of loss he feels. You pick up on it anyway, placing a kiss to his lips, “You are the best husband I could ever ask for.” You assure him, “You rode like a madman to come track me down.”

“I had to know.” Caspian says, “I was ready to tell you off for riding.”

“Oh don’t start.” You push him away lightly, “You’d better not become a helicopter father or I’ll start getting truly sneaky.”

He catches your hand in his and pulls you back into his arms, “I’m sorry for startling you.” Caspian murmurs, “You must have thought something had happened.”

“For one horrible moment.” You nod, letting your fingers play with his hair. Caspian’s eyes slip shut, taking in your body and your warmth once again. Around him nature calls with life, the wolves padding impatiently on the ground, the rustle of leaves in the wind and the playful whispers of the trees.

“Hang on,” Caspian pulls back enough to see your face, “So if it wasn’t us, what’s the ‘real thing’ you’re practising for?”

You glance from your husband to Dara. The wolf mother nods, her cub’s lead now between her teeth. You walk over and take the offered lead back into your hand, the white wolf cub bounding along beside you as you begin to walk again. “You know I have a bit of a habit for rearing what some would call dangerous animals.”

Caspian falls into step with you, “A bit?” He jokes, “Between wolves, marsh-wiggles and sprites. If it hadn’t been trying to kill us, I’m sure you’d have jumped off the Dawn Treader and tried to befriend that Sea Serpent.”

You wrinkle your nose and with a gesture of your hand, the wolves reform their hunting formations, spreading out across the woods, “Well I might have found something that may just beat out a sea serpent.”

You lead the way for another fifteen minutes or so in the direction of Aslan’s How. A route Caspian has become less familiar with than years ago, nostalgia fills him as you tread across the open field towards the great tomb. The land still bears the odd mark of battle, craters where Caspian’s grand ambush plan had succeeded litter the once flat field and tree roots wind across some of the gaps, forming bridges one with good balance could walk across. Caspian expects you to stop near the entrance, “What are we doing here?” Caspian didn’t even know you knew of the How, never mind what this place had meant for Caspian. Sanctuary, security, victory. You hadn’t been present in Narnia when Caspian made his stand against his Uncle Miraz. Back then you had been nothing more than a legend, imprinted on the walls of the how. 

The How is continually lit by torchlight, a feat no one quite knows how or why. Caspian assumes old magic, the presence of the Great Lion himself still within the walls of such a sacred place. You venture into the narrow corridors, but you don’t head towards the Stone Table, instead you veer right. “I wanted to keep it somewhere warm, but protected.” You turn to Caspian, “You can feel the magic in the air here. Aslan still watches over.”

“Not as much as you.” For Caspian never felt as in tune with the Great Lion as his wife did. His fingers run past a mural of the Kings and Queens of Old, past a more recent mural Caspian never remembers seeing before. A White Knight faces down the White Witch’s wand. Caspian’s stomach flips as he catches the familiar hair which streams from the figure’s helmet. “It’s you,” He murmurs. “The first time you were in Narnia.”

“And the second,” You point to another mural, there you are again dressed in your signature white battle armour. This time on a parapet of the old Cair Paravel, a horn raised in one hand against the army of Trechebuchets Caspian’s ancestors had used to destroy the castle during their invasion. You don’t pay it much heed, instead you keep pressing deeper into the tomb. “I do wonder when another will show. There’s much the walls could document from our adventures at sea.”

As you come to a stop, Caspian realises the wolves haven’t followed you both inside the tomb. It’s just the King and his Queen. 

He peers over your shoulder as you kneel down before a nest of hay. He watches your hands disappear and remove an egg from the hidden hay pile. “What is that?” He breathes.

“I’m not entirely sure,” You admit, “But based on the scales and size, I have a good guess.”

Caspian stares at the egg you hold out for him. It’s the largest he has ever seen, not that Caspian has seen many eggs larger than a chickens in his lifetime. His eyes flick to yours and that sickening feeling is back, “It can’t be.”

Your eyes are dancing with excitement, “I think so.”

“No,” Caspian takes a step back, “They…The mother would never leave it.”

“I saw her.” You say, “You know there’s been more and more poachers as of late. Calormens stepping onto our lands, wanting to harvest the creatures magical properties. I saw her fly off, if she wasn’t being persecuted then she would never have left her egg.”

Caspian’s mouth drops open, “Is that what you’ve been doing?” He asks, “You’ve been out looking for a dragon?”

“That’s why I took the wolves.” You say it so simply, so easily. “They’ve been helping me track her. We think she’s near Underland.”

Caspian takes your face between his hands, “What do you plan to do when it hatches?”

You answer is evident, “Only until we can reunite the baby with it’s mother.”

“The dragon books in the library.” Caspian pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you were just interested in the legends. That’s all I thought they were, legends.”

“You saw Eustace as a dragon, did you not?” Sarcams fills you voice, “You know as well as I do that dragons are very much real and exist in Narnia.”

“Then why haven’t we seen them?”

You don’t have much of an answer, “Look what’s happened to the first one we have.” You say, “Hunted for her scales and goodness know what else.”

It’s your turn again to assuage your spouse. You place the egg carefully back amongst the hay pile and cover it up again, “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you have to know that I won’t let this go.”

Caspian rolls his head back in a slow circle, “No, you won’t.” He meets your eyes and barely holds back his own smile at your excitement. “But we are finding the mother and you are giving that egg to her as soon as possible.”

You nod, happy now you’ve got your way. “I’ll gladly welcome the help dispatching the poacher groups along the way too.”

“You will be the death of me.” Caspian grumbles, as you wind your arms around his waist and place a kiss to his cheek. “If I didn’t admire your heart so much, I’d leave you here in the woods where you belong.”

“You made me your Queen,” You almost sing, “You can’t get rid of me now.” You wind your arms back around Caspian’s neck, “And who’s to say that once we’ve reunited baby and mother dragon, we can’t get to work on our own baby?”

[cyberball]

cair paravel

caspian x reader / no pronouns used / not rq

warnings: a couple swears, physical touch (as in not 18+ but still), mention of the word 'dress' but you can interpret that as any type of dress really

summary: you decide to reminisce on a select few memories of the beach at cair paraval in your room, one morning.

genre: yes it is fluffy but there's some slow burn/yearning thing going on, allusion to a modern!au in narnia, although u can assume it’s the same

notes: cyberball comeback! *crickets* anyway this is my highest word count thus far. ben barnes is actually fatal cuz now I'm obsessed with a character from my CHILDHOOD who I completely forgot even existed. alas, here we are, because caspian is a very very close second to Leo valdez, and I'm head over heels for that man. all this is to say, this will probably not be the last caspian fic and who knows, maybe I'll figure sth out for peter n ed as well!!! anyway enjoy i hope u like it / edit: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I MISSPELLED THE FIC TITLE

11:03 | 2896 words

11:45 AM

The spring breeze brushes against your face, and your eyes close in appreciation. From your balcony, the beach of Cair Paraval looks stunning; clear blue waters and a high tide to match. You let your thoughts linger on all the nights you’ve spent on said beach with a certain king of Narnia. You almost get up to try to find him, but you sit back down, realizing he must be busy. Your memories will have to sustain you for now.

4:23 AM – 1 month ago

Caspian’s hand came up to brush his hair out of his face for what seemed like the hundredth time that night – the sea breeze was relentless. You silently laughed at his efforts, as he leaned back into you, having given up on trying to tame his hair. His tall frame had somehow managed to sit snugly in between your legs, Caspian’s head resting on your chest. You were leaning against an enormous oak tree, the leaves swaying in tandem with the wind.

“Get up, you big goof,” you said, rolling your nightshirt’s sleeves up, determined to help him with his hair. He looked back at you for just a second before obeying your command. You loved his hair either way but you could tell it was annoying him right about now.

“What, you don’t like the unruly look my hair has taken on?” He asked, sitting up properly. You shook your head in amusement and looked away under his glance, pretending to look around for the clip you always kept on you, in case a predicament like this arose.

You gathered a little of his hair and tied it in place with the clip, letting a few pieces in the front fall out. The half-up-half-down look was his and your favorite.

He rested his head back onto your shoulder, looking ahead, the two of you still sitting. You had a ritual wherein you took one night each week to watch the sunrise. Now, even as the sun slowly woke up, the Narnian night sky glittered with tens of stars, and you wished you could look into his eyes. The black always reflected the light perfectly.

You two had been dating for about 2 weeks now. Caspian was your best friend and the person you trusted the most. Back when all you could think of on nights like these was your imagination of what it would feel like to have his lips against yours, looking into his eyes was a gesture far too intimate for two friends to share.

But now that it was a reality, you moved him off your shoulder and moved forward, so now you were facing him. On instinct, he picked you up by your thighs and placed you on his lap. Giggling, you took his stubble-covered face in your hands. After staring into your eyes for a length of time most people would find uncomfortable, he looked up at the sky. And there it was; the sky condensed into his eyes. He looked back up at you, and you couldn’t help but kiss him. You wondered how you ever lived without knowing the taste of his lips.

5:09 PM – 3 months ago

The sun filtered through your hair as you managed to push through it. It was setting, and the horizon looked particularly capturing today; pink and orange clouds shielding its light. Speaking of the sun, unbeknownst to you, yours had come up behind the spot you had claimed on the sand. Placing a kiss on your head – and consequently making butterflies fly around in your stomach – Caspian took the place next to you, as he often did.

More often, he’d only made rare appearances in your solitude, as the mantle of being king had taken its toll on his free time. You had found yourself reminiscing on the time when every other free second you both had, you would spend with each other. You would train together as well, and while that hadn’t necessarily stopped, he had significantly less time to do so. So you missed it, and you missed the close contact, where you could pass off the hitched breaths and stuttering glances as something other than what they were.

Caspian was your best friend. Nothing more, although you found yourself coveting the same. You don’t quite remember when it changed; when the way you looked at him turned from friendly appreciation to lingering on his smile. You felt that maybe he felt the same when he’d make you laugh and then drink in your reaction; when you showed him a new dress and his gaze lingered on you for far more time than was needed to look at the dress; when, a few days ago, you were playing with his hair, as you often did, and he unabashedly stared at your lips; and even now, when he kissed your head and instinctually rested his hand on yours. His thumb caressed your palm, and you had to physically restrain yourself from melting onto the beach.

At least then you could be washed away with the sea. You could feel his gaze on you. “What, idiot?” You asked him, not turning to look at him, a playful smile playing on your lips. “That’s no way to address your king,” he replied smoothly with a smirk of his own. You wanted to wipe it right off his stupid, pretty face.

As happy as you were with his presence next to you, you didn’t forget how your getaways to the beach were much frequent just you now instead of you both. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” you muttered sarcastically. You winced as his face fell at your tone, immediately regretting your words, knowing how he literally had no time for anything other than his duties. You couldn’t be mad at him for that. He beat you to the apology, “I am sorry. I know I have seen you less and less these past few weeks, and it’s not an excuse, merely a reason, but my work as king has taken up most if not all my time. Regardless, I could have made time for you. Aslan knows you’re much more important to me than anything else,” he spoke the last words under his breath, but you caught them.

You both had talked about this before – how much you meant to each other – but every time he brought it up, your heart beat just a little bit faster. “Cas, don’t be sorry. I know you’re busy and it’s selfish of me to be mad at you for that. I’m sorry,” you replied, looking away. “You’re not being selfish. You’re the least selfish person I know. You’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said softly, pushing your hair behind your ears. A hue of red dusted your cheeks at the gesture and you smiled up at him, “It’s okay, Cas,” you assured him and noticed his eyes crinkling at the nickname, “Just promise to meet me whenever you can,” you said, playing with his fingers. “Yes, I know, I will use all my free time on you. You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, a glint in his eyes. You laughed amusedly, “You’re a good king, you know,” and he searched your eyes for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find it, even behind your teasing tone. “Just because I dedicated my free time to you?” he questioned and you pretended to think, “Hmm… yes.” Laughing

, you rested your head on his shoulder. You were happy to have him, even if your affections could only be as intimate as best friends.

2:58 AM – 2 months ago

You had just made a particularly hilarious joke, and Caspian had been laughing about it for what seemed like ages. “My god, calm down,” you managed to say through your own laughter, and he silently brought his forehead down to your shoulder, his own shoulders shaking from laughter.

After finally calming down, he said, “Never do that again,” a smile still brilliant on his face, despite the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds. “What, never make you laugh again?” you grinned, sucking your teeth, “sounds like a challenge to me. I’m too funny,” you joked, running your hand through your hair. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Caspian roll his eyes at you, and you wordlessly shoved him for it.

“That cloud looks like your hair in the morning,” you pointed out, gesturing to a cloud by the sea line. Caspian looked at you with an unamused face, “Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replied deadpan, but a grin eventually broke out on his face.

A long, comfortable silence stretched out between the two of you. You carefully rested your head on his shoulder and tried to take this for what it was: two friends enjoying each other’s company, and not letting your thoughts wander to a hope where maybe, someday, you could be more than that. Because it could never be. Caspian did a great job of reminding you of the fact when he piped up, “Today was sort of terrible,” and in response, you looked up at him through your lashes, beckoning him to continue. “The court is back at it with the marriage proposals and potential alliances,” he explained, and your heart dropped.

Oh. “Any of the potential matches interest you?” you questioned, silently hoping the answer was no. Regardless, you braced yourself for the impact, but he replied, very softly, might one add, “No,” and ran a hand through his hair. “Really?” you asked in an unamused tone, “none of them?” you were a tad bit eager to know his true feelings. So he pointed it out, “Desperate, are we? Why do you want to see me married off so quickly?” he asked, a smirk playing on his annoyingly pretty face. There was a sort of desperation in his eyes that you didn’t quite catch, however.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” you teased, “Curse me for wanting to see my king happy,” and rolled your eyes. “And anyway, it’s quite the opposite,” you muttered under your breath, sure that he wouldn’t hear it, but he did.

Fuck. He understood what you meant by it as well; he always did, and now he looked at you with something newfound in his eyes. Shit.

Silence. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“That is the last thing that would make me happy,” he finally spoke, and you silently sent up a prayer to whichever god let him ignore whatever you had said.

“And what would?” you asked, a teasing tone in your voice, but you both knew you genuinely wanted to know. Were you a possibility?

He didn’t reply. You chuckled softly and slightly shoved him, “What? I asked you something,” you said, still giggling. Your laughter had brought a smile to his face and you wanted to evaporate.

He took one of your hands and started absentmindedly playing with your fingers, as he often did. “I just… it’s a little funny to me how many times I’ve asked you that same question and you’ve not responded,” he confessed, black eyes staring you down, and then moving away when you hesitated in responding. “We tell each other everything,” a pause, “Right?” he asked, and hundreds of unsaid feelings poured into the small gap between you two, which he was slowly but surely closing. All the while his hands were still on yours, and you wondered if this was it. The day you finally get to call him yours, or the day you part ways.

“Caspian…” was all you managed, a little choked. Had his face always been so close to yours? You swore you could feel the beat of his eyelashes on your face, which was no doubt painted deep red right about now. It didn’t matter, because so was his.

You never knew eyes could speak like this – albeit, Caspian’s had always been able to, but never to this degree – begging, desperation, and hope, all in just two pupils. You literally were choked now; words had left you. You always told him, in matters of romance, you would never be able to make the first move. He had always laughed at that, the irony of you being such a bold and fearless person, yet being afraid of showing vulnerability like this. Although he himself could never chide you about that; both of you knew his stubbornness, especially in affairs of the heart.

He was not a daft man. A little oblivious, sure, but he knew the way you looked at him. You hadn’t tried to hide it either; in some masochistic way, even though you had your doubts about his feelings, you still wore yours on your face. You regretted it sometimes, when if he ended up listening to his court one day, then you would feel like a fool for putting your heart out on the line.

But so had he. Later on, you would realize that you were much more oblivious than him. He had half the decency to never completely assume that you were interested in him romantically, but he knew you. And you knew him.

So it made sense now to you. His lingering glances, especially those on your lips; the forehead kisses, which he had started a long time ago before you thought of him this way – however, they had grown much more frequent and much less chaste; and, oh. The words he said to you just a couple of days ago, lounging in his bed, your head in his lap, when you had joked about him being in love with you, “I’m not going to deny it.” You knew when he was joking. This was not such an instance, even though, immediately after, he tried to play it off as such. You knew it. Why hadn’t you said something?

Your name fell from his lips now, once more, a silent plea.

His lips ghosted over yours once more. You closed your eyes briefly, as you did when in a predicament, and exhaled hard.

Caspian sent up a prayer to whichever god would take it and made to connect your lips. You met him halfway.

You remember the first kiss like the back of your hand. You just about whimpered when his taste reached your tongue; the taste of the chocolate you both had snuck just a few minutes earlier was fresh on his lips. His rather large hands steadied you by your waist, and you still felt like crumbling by his touch.

A few seconds later, you pulled away reluctantly, out of breath. His eyes slowly fluttered open and his face was redder than you had ever seen it. You grinned and pecked his lips once more, and he felt your smile on him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever experience.

Giddy, he mirrored your smile and kissed you harder than the last time.

“I knew you had a thing for me,” you said, right after he pulled away, breathless and smiling. “I’m not going to deny it,” he gloated, and you rested your forehead on his shoulder, laughing.

You were going to deal with the court some other day. It was just you and him right now.

11:56 AM – Present time

“Enjoying the weather, my love?” Caspian’s voice sounds out as his arms wrap around your torso. You slightly crane your head to look at him, shamelessly staring at his frame; simple white button-up, black pants. A rather handsome look on him.

“Your pick-up lines have always been terrible,” you remark, turning your head back around, a smirk on your face.

“And yet you were just checking me out,” he shoots back, resting his chin on the top of your head. You roll your eyes in response. “Checkmate?” he teases.

“Whatever. You can hardly blame me when you look this good,” you respond smoothly, turning around to face him while raising a hand to play with the ends of his hair.

“Have you seen yourself?” he says comfortably. His hands are resting easy on your hips and his gaze is on you, focused like you hung the stars in the sky. He always looks at you like this.

You shake your head, silently laughing, and crane your head to look out at the waters. It’s true that no one loves the sea quite like Caspian does, but that’s the very reason you appreciate it. His eyes light up when he talks of his adventures and voyages. Interestingly enough, there have only been two instances when the joie de vivre shines in his eyes; once when he thinks of the sea, and twice when he thinks of you. You’ve noticed it. The thought gets you giddy each time.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you. He places a kiss on your head and leans down to kiss your lips. Every time he does, it feels like the first time. Your eyes flutter close, and you notice something more in the way his lips move against yours. A message.

And then you realize.

Three words.

He pulls away, exhaling softly. A pause.

“I love you,” he says, your name on his lips like it always belonged there.

You waste no time. “I love you too, Caspian,” and he grins.

You mean it. And Aslan knows he means it too.

tagging: @noorie101 @padfootagain (one of my fav cas writers <3) — if u wanna be tagged please send in an ask!

[cyberball]

posting update for cyberball!

i am now opening my requests: for Caspian (Peter, Susan and Edmund as well, i don't exactly know how to write for them yet but i can try if it's a fun request) so send them in!! Also for pjo hoo most characters so send them requests my way!!! In usual cyberball fashion posts will be very irregular so i am sorry butttttttttttttt yes

after the caspian fic i wanna clear my drafts so some expect some short imagines/blurbs from my old bday celebration that i never posted!!! also a vv short leo fic

after this i'll probs be writing more for caspian and pjo hoo as usual !!!!

Asks are always open, talk to me!! and u can also tag me in ur fics if ud like!!!!! send me ur hcs or anything for pjo hoo n narnia characters!!!

[cyberball]

can I be tagged in ur prince caspian fic?

ofc!!!!

[cyberball]

big shocker, i've been obsessed with caspian from narnia recently. So stay tuned for a needlessly long fic!!!!

i’ll tag it here when it’s done!! send an ask if u wanna be tagged xxx

edit: here it is!! go show it some love <3

[qosmical]

i made a uquiz!!! check it out y'all

Characters include Leo Valdez, Travis & Connor Stoll (sons of Hermes), Piper Mclean, Katie Gardner (daughter of Demeter), and Malcolm Pace (

[cyberball]

lalala

[juneberrie]

SIEMPRE

leo valdez x fem!reader

author's note oh em gee u guys when i say i had an epiphany,,, i mean it!!! this fic better not flop jshjhs xo

word count 0.4k

warnings fem!reader, leo being smooth mf, spanish, petnames, mentions of forgetting a date & fights, like one swear?

ᥫ᭡ little romantic gestures ; helping you wear your necklace and kissing your neck softly

you came into bunker nine alone, but the mirror in leo's makeshift bedroom reflection held two people.

"corazón."

"leo," you said. you didn't take your eyes off of the charm on the necklace you were trying to put on. the clasp just wouldn't, well, clasp. you saw him reach up to the necklace and gently take it from your hands.

"im sorry, cariño," he whispered. as his hands worked the clasp onto the chain, his brown eyes met yours in the reflection. "i know you were looking forward to trying that new restaurant."

" 's fine, leo. you were busy." the last word came out harsher than you expected, and you saw leo's face fall ever so slightly. leo had promised to take you to dinner and a walk through the strawberry fields after, but he bailed because some ares campers needed him to fix their spears or whatever. the night had ended in an argument, when you, all dolled up and ready for your date, had barged into bunker nine to find leo in old sweatpants and a stained camp shirt, his face and hands covered in dust and grease.

"no, its not fine, amor". his head dipped into the crook of your neck and he started pressing kisses to your skin, working his way up to your jaw. the necklace was cold against your flushed skin. "i should have told them that their stupid spears to wait until tomorrow." his breath was hot against your ear when he whispered, "te quiero para mal o para bien. esperaría por siempre y para siempre."

since being with leo for almost a year, you've picked up some spanish. the words whirred through your (short-circuiting) mind for a few moments before you turn to him, lips almost touching, and say, "did you just quote taylor swift at me? in spanish?"

"maybe," he grinned. "did it work?"

"oh, you ass," you laughed, swatting him on the shoulder. his grin widened and he grabbed your waist, picking you up and spinning you around.

"no sabes que tanto te amo, quierida," he said, putting you down. "oh, and you look great in that dress," he added, winking and waggling his eyebrows.

you groaned and grabbed his wrist to check his watch; 8:46 pm.

"we're leaving in four minutes," you said, pointing a finger at your boyfriend's chest. "i'm going to put perfume on and then we can leave, okay?"

"okay," leo replied, stealing a kiss before gently pushing you towards his bathroom. at nine, you still hadn't come out. leo poked his head around the corner and saw you touching up your makeup and hair. "weren't we supposed to leave at nine?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"just wait!! i have this baby hair and its bugging me," you huffed, trying to pat the non-existent hair down.

leo smiled. "siempre." that was how long he'd wait for you.

[repairgirl]

14. happy birthday, repair boy

word count: 2.6k

t/w: cursing, lots of angst

You put the last of the decorations up, taking a breath of relief for the first time in forever. The gang had offered to set up early with you, and of course, being the wonderful mom and hostess she is, Sally Jackson was more than eager to help around and lend her house as the party spot. Orange and black streamers and balloons hung from the ceiling, both of Leo’s favorite colors. The blue cake Percy had made was the centerpiece of the perfectly made table, with “Happy Birthday Repair Boy” in Piper’s messy handwriting written on it. Everything was perfect, except for one thing— your rocky “friendship” with Leo.

“How much longer till he’s here?” Piper asked. “He just thinks you guys are having a boys’ game night, right?”

Percy nodded. “He’s only expecting Jason, Frank, and I. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“Ten minutes,” Jason chimed in. “He just texted the group chat.”

“Ten minutes,” you repeated, mumbling under your breath. Ten minutes to pull yourself together, act normal, and put on a face for everyone.

The only person who seemed to notice your anxiety was Annabeth.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, resting a hand on your back and leading you over to where Percy was sitting on the couch.

“I’m fine. Just worried,” you sighed. “How are we supposed to be normal in front of fifty people when we can’t even be normal when we’re alone?”

“I promise it will be okay,” she reassured. “You don’t have to put on a face for me, or anyone. Speak your truth, and if things get too hard, we can just escape to Percy’s room. Right, Percy?”

Percy grinned. “Of course, y/n. And if he does something to hurt you again, I’ll drown him next time he takes a bath.”

Annabeth smacked him. “Don’t say that!”

You smiled for the first time since getting to the party. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.”

Percy ruffled your hair, and Annabeth wrapped you in a side hug. “Of course, babe.”

Just then, a ring was heard at the doorbell.

“Quick, everyone hide!” Piper yelled. People scrambled, and Sally hit the lights as she opened the door for Leo.

“Um, hello?” he said, walking into the apartment.

“SURPRISE!” everyone shouted at once, turning the lights on to reveal the amazing setup. “Happy birthday, Leo!”

Leo put his hands to his heart dramatically. “Wow, all of this, just for little old me?”

“Unfortunately, we do care about you,” Frank replied, rolling his eyes. Hazel just giggled.

“Of course you do, of course you do,” Leo encouraged. “And who is responsible for all of this?”

Annabeth pushed you towards him. “Y/n is. She planned the whole thing and decorated the whole place. We just assisted.”

You stuck your tongue out back at her. “Give yourself and Percy some credit, Wise Girl. It wasn’t all me.”

“Wow, really?” Leo said, taking a step towards you, and looking you in the eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. “Thank you, y/n. I mean really, thank you. This is incredible.”

You smiled and wrapped him in a hug, finally feeling okay. His warm embrace brought a familiar red blush to your face, an embrace you haven’t felt in so long. A wash of relief filled your body and you never wanted to let go.

Leo pulled away and locked eyes with you. “I’m sorry for being weird. There’s just been so much stuff going on, and I’ve been really confused about my feelings lately, and I’m working on building a new project, which is stressing me out, and—”

Cutting him off, you hugged him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder, nearly knocking him over.

“Shut up, repair boy. It’s okay.”

“It’s okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And we’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, and everyone cheered.

“Fucking FINALLY!” Piper yelled. “Now, let’s get this party started!”

Being in a whole new headspace, the party was a blast. Piper blared Top 40’s hits and set up pong in the kitchen while the boys really did play video games in the Percy’s room. In addition to the seven, Nico, Will, and Rachel, just about everyone showed up. Reyna, Thalia, Nyssa, Connor, Travis, and even Grover made a surprise guest appearance from his world environmentalist tour. Percy was thrilled and tackled him in a hug upon his arrival (Sally, unphased, knew all along).

The night got even better when you were sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok when Leo joined you, plopping right next to you.

“Hey mamacita,” he said, casually putting his arm around you and filling you with that oh-so-familiar butterfly feeling. Everything was finally as it should be. But surely, things couldn’t be that easy. Could they?

You smiled, your nose crinkling. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, just the fact that my best friend in the whole world hasn’t personally wished me a happy birthday yet. I am eighteen now, you know. Can do legal adult things like…uh… sending you to jail for this.”

You playfully punched him in the arm. “Eighteen is when you can go to jail, not send people to jail, you dork. And, I planned and threw this whole thing, just for you. Is that not ‘happy birthday’ enough?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Nuh-uh. Not until I explicitly hear it from you and you only.”

“Happy birthday, drama queen,” you replied, smiling. “But if you had been patient enough to wait, you would have heard me say it upon giving you your gift.”

His ears immediately perked up. “Gift?”

“Yes, stupid.”

He inched closer to you, his face a mere inches from yours. “Why can’t I have it now?”

You pushed him away by the chest, giggling. Doing that delicate dance of friends-but-not, just like you used to.

“You are literally two years old. I’m giving it to you along with everyone else, later. Promise it’s worth it.”

He sighed, defeated. “Whatever you say.”

Just then, you heard a noise behind you.

“Psst!”

You glanced around, seeing where it came from. Across the room was Piper, frantically gesturing for you to go over to her. You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Looks like I’m being paged. Catch you later, repair boy,” you said, heading over to her. “Hey, Pipes. What’s up?”

She linked her arm with yours. “Come play pong with the girls and me.”

She led you over to the pong table, where Annabeth and Hazel were already set up.

“Us versus them,” Piper explained. “First to get plastered beyond comprehension wins.”

You grinned. “I’m in.”

The game started, with Hazel missing and Annabeth landing her ball perfectly in you and Piper’s cup, pumping her fist in the air. The game progressed, and after ten minutes or so, everyone was just tipsy enough to be giggly and bad at the game. But for the group of girls that consisted of your best friends, something seemed off.

“We’re awfully quiet,” you retorted. “What, am I in trouble or something?”

Hazel sighed, putting both of her hands on the table in a serious manner and locking eyes with you. “Y/N. You know we love you very much, right?”

Almost immediately, you sobered up. “Oh god. This isn’t an intervention, is it?”

“No, no, no!” Annabeth clarified. “Nothing like that. It’s just, um,”

“Were you really planning on forgiving him that quickly?” Piper blurted.

You threw your hands up in frustration. “I thought you guys were JUST telling me to try and move on and not let things get to me!”

“We were!” Hazel replied. “It’s just that things just seemed to happen a little quick. That’s all.”

She came over to put a hand on your shoulder. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Girls, I am TOTALLY fine,” you insisted. “I’m not falling again. We’re just friends. Like we used to be.”

Annabeth and Hazel exchanged nervous glances, but Piper seemed satisfied with that answer. She squeezed your hand.

“Okay, babes. Whatever you say.”

Just then, Percy walked over from his bedroom where the boys were playing Mario Kart, Jason, Nico, Will, Leo, Grover, and the Stolls trailing behind him like baby ducklings. He clapped his hands obnoxiously. “Presents time! Circle ‘round.”

You and the girls giggled as you walked over, making a circle on the fuzzy blue rug in the living room like you were all in elementary school again. Everyone grabbed their gifts and got situated, Leo squishing on one side of you and Piper on the other.

Leo rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “It’s about time! I want Y/N’s first,” he stated.

“No way,” Piper retorted. “Save the best for last.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you back.”

The night progressed as Leo opened gifts from everyone, perfectly reflecting their friendships. Percy got him a waterproof pocket multi-tool, Piper got him a shirt with a ‘your mom’ joke on it (which Leo loved and laughed hysterically at, don’t worry), Annabeth got him a giant architect’s book of blueprints for projects they could work on together, Frank got him mints that supposedly lower your voice (no surprise there), and so on. Finally, it was your turn.

You were feeling a thousand different emotions— anxiety, excitement, nervousness, anticipation, fear, and so many more. Trying not to let any of these emotions show, you handed him your bag, drunkenly rambling about the present inside.

“So, I know I’m not as good at making things as you, but I really did try, and you might think it’s stupid, and—”

He cut you off, flashing that warm smile that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter every time. “Y’n. I’m sure it’s perfect. Nothing to worry about.”

Your shoulders sagged and you sighed in relief, but the relief was only temporary. Right as his hand was on the first bit of wrapping paper, ready to grab and open it, a ring was heard at the door.

Percy frowned, getting up to answer it. “We weren’t expecting anyone else. Give me a second,” he said.

Before opening the door he glanced in the peephole, and upon lifting his head away from the door, he looked sick. His face was almost as green as Poseidon’s seaweed castle.

Anxiously, he waved Annabeth over. She peered into the peephole the same way he did, looking equally as nauseous afterward.

The two whisper-shouted nervously, causing you to hear mumbles of “What the hell are we supposed to do?”, and, “We can’t just leave her there, can we?”

Piper and Annabeth locked eyes, and you could tell a silent understanding passed between them. You felt like everyone in the room knew who was at the door except for you.

Annabeth sighed. “Just open it, Percy. What else can we do?”

Nothing on earth could have prepared you for who was at the door. There she was, wearing a beautiful white gown that was way too dressy for the event, her silky caramel hair pulled back into a braided bun. And worst of all, she was carrying the perfect gift: a stuffed animal replica of Festus. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

All of your worst insecurities encapsulated into a single person: Calypso.

Your jaw dropped to the floor.

Before anyone could say anything, she made her grand entrance.

“Surprise! I’ve come to celebrate my favorite boy’s birthday!” she shouted.

Leo immediately shot up. “Calypso, w-what are you doing here?”

She smiled an evil smirk. “I told you I’d be in town, didn’t I? How could I resist saying hi to you? I just want to make up, repair boy!”

“How’d you know where we were?” Percy growled.

She batted her eyelashes, attempting to put a spell on him. It didn’t work. “Don’t you remember, Perce? Me and you, we used to have a thing. Back in the day. Before she came along,” she sneered, giving Annabeth a nasty look.

Percy had to physically restrain her. “Oh, it is on.”

“Calypso, no one wants you here,” Frank chimed in. “Just leave.”

You stood up, fuming and gaining a sense of self-respect for the first time since she arrived.

“Are we sure no one wants her here?” you said, stepping towards Leo, ready to let everything loose you had been holding in for the past few weeks.

Hazel tugged at your shirt, looking up at you anxiously. “Y/N, you’re drunk. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

You pushed her hand away. “No, Hazel. I need to do this.”

Leo nervously glanced at you. “What do you mean, y/n?” he said, stuttering his words.

“Clearly, you’d want her here at least a little bit, considering you’ve been talking to her and entertaining her behind my back. For weeks, now.”

Everyone gasped, and Piper’s hand loudly flew over her mouth.

“How did you know that?” Leo asked, inching away from you.

You stepped closer to him. “Oh, so it is true. So even when I’ve done everything for you, done nothing but be there and support you always, and take you back a million times, you’d still choose her over me? Really?”

“Y/N, it’s not like that, really, I promise, I told her no, it’s—”

“Oh, and I can’t forget,” you said, glancing at Percy and Annabeth, “I had to find out from other people. Friends who actually care about me. Since my so-called best friend couldn’t be bothered to.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Percy? Really? C’mon, man!”

Percy put his hands up in defense. “If two of my friends are fighting, I’m always going to be on the side of the friend that’s being less shitty.”

Annabeth nodded in agreement. “And for all of the emotional damage you’ve caused her, it’s pretty clear to see who’s the shitty one.”

Leo put his head in his hands. From the doorway, Calypso giggled, enjoying all the chaos she had just caused. You had forgotten she was even there.

You walked over to her. “And don’t even get me started on you,” you growled. “Do you really think you can just march back into his life like no time has passed? Where were you when he was crying to us every day of spring break, heartbroken over your sorry ass? And now you show your face for the first time in months on his fucking birthday? Has anyone ever told you no in your entire life?”

Her face turned pale, but her fear was only temporary, and she regained her arrogant confidence within a matter of seconds.

“Of course I can do whatever I want,” she claimed. “And I’ll prove it right now. So Leo, do us a favor and make this easy for all of us and choose, in front of everyone: me, or her?”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop. No one dared make a noise, for fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

Leo’s eyes darted between the two of you, unable to say a word. “I—”

“Save it,” you said, grabbing your bag and the gift with it and getting ready to go. “I’m done hearing your sorry excuses. Because right now, Leo Valdez, you and I are done.”

With that, you ran out the door and into the apartment hallway, ignoring Piper, Hazel, and Annabeth’s cries asking you to wait. You blared music in your ears, muting your notifications getting on the nearest train, and doing whatever possible to get home as quickly as possible. As soon as you were in your cozy apartment, you collapsed on your bed, alone for the first time in forever.

And then you cried.

yours truly || leo valdez x fem!reader smau

a/n: and there it is!! i know this chapter is lowkey corny and SO cinematic but I couldn’t help doing so for the big buildup. i hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist < previous > next

leo taglist: @slytherindaughterofposeidon0​ @persephil​ @mmmelanie-blog1​ @blue-violin​ @goldengoddess​ @dee-zbignuts​ @animes-trash​ @vintagebitc @nottherealslimshady​ @vermilioneyess​

yours truly taglist: @itsnottilly​ @togethcr @katrin-okay​ @officialfictionalwreck​ @sunshineandshadowss​ @the-swageyama-tobiyolo​ @lilredpanda29​ @goldengoddess​ @dee-zbignuts​ @animes-trash​ @toffytastee @marshmallow12435​ @dont-get-upset​ @cellias​ @breadbrobin​ @didi073 @haox​ @broadwayismydrug​ @burrito-fight​

[starstruckwillows-deactivated20]

♡ for a demigod - l.v ♡

requested by anon<3

leo valdez x reader, hurt/comfort

leo has a nightmare, which would be fine if he wasn't a demigod

dreams were incredibly inconsistent for the regular person.

for a demigod, they could never wake up being sure of what was real and what was really just a nightmare. it could be a difficult distinction, and it required a clear head, not the confused rambling of leo's brain.

he woke up slightly sweaty, looking over at you fast asleep, with even breaths. shaking the curls from his face with a slight pant, he swung his legs over the bed, going into the bathroom to splash his face with some cold water.

once leo had stared himself down in the mirror and spontaneously brushed his teeth, he returned to your bedroom, padding down the hallway with haste due to the chill in the air.

but you were gone.

you weren't in the bed anymore. he'd only left for two minutes. the fog in his brain swallowed sense quickly.

a curtain flapped in the wind.

that windows open. was it open before?

a floor panel creaked.

is that the creaky step? who's on the stairs?

your bag was spilling across the floor.

did you throw that when you came in last night or is this new?

fed up of the speculation, and on the verge of properly panicking, he tore down the stairs, surprised he didn't fall over, and veered straight for the kitchen...

... where you were getting a glass of water. relieved, and not thinking to announce his presence, he rushed up behind you and wrapped his arms around your midsection while he placed his head in the crook of your neck.

"leo!" you gasped, jolting so some of the water splashed out and trickled down your hand. he pulled his sleeves over his hands and used the cuff to wipe the water from your skin.

"came back and you were gone."

you twisted in his embrace so you could face him, water abandoned and fingers in his hair, before you said, "m'sorry love, i saw the light on in the bathroom, i didn't think to tell you i was going downstairs."

for normal people, telling your partner everytime you wanted to go downstairs would be terrible. controlling. irritating.

but for a demigod, your partner was at constant risk of attack, death. updating each other of your whereabouts was a way to ease the intense worry. it came with the job description, the job that none of you really signed up for.

"s'okay," he whispered, face still warm beneath your hands, "you done down here?"

you nodded, letting him take one of your hands to lead you back to bed, glass of water in the other.

the two of you were quiet for a moment, but both awake, your head leaning on his shoulder.

he spoke first, quiet and unsure of the question he was about to ask you, "if you were going to leave me-"

"leo, no."

you moved to sit up and lean over to face him, but he shook his head and pushed you back down to where you were laying.

"just humour me for a second."

with an unimpressed huff, you answered, "alright, if i was going to leave you?"

he rolled his eyes at your tone, but something in his chest felt warm, reassured that you considered the notion so utterly ridiculous, "would you tell me?"

you frowned, "huh?"

"like would you tell me in person or just leave with a note... or something. i don't know."

it went silent for a moment too long, leo starting to wonder if asking was a mistake. but eventually you replied, "i don't know. it depends. i don't think i could ever leave without saying goodbye to you. but i don't think i could ever leave, so it depends what's happened. if you killed my whole family, yeah we might have some problems."

despite himself, and the vulnerability he was currently feeling, leo laughed, the sound vibrating in your ear.

"you're safe, love, i'm not going anywhere."

you wondered if he heard you, because he didn't reply, just held you, until the two of you fell asleep, breath in synchronisation, feeling more peaceful than any demigod had the right to be.

taglist:

i have nobody on a taglist for riordanverse but @juneberrie thought you might like this one<3

[cyberball]

snow on the beach

leo valdez x reader / no pronouns used \ not rq

warnings: two swear words i think

summary: reader and leo finally kiss. that's it

genre: fluff obv

notes: cyberball comeback!!!! everyone clap. also i feel compelled to say I wrote a lot of this listening to yes to heaven by lana. also, lots of midnights by taylor references so reply if u have taste u recognize!!

11:43 / 1149 words

10:00 PM

You ran a hairbrush through your hair again. “Amor, your hair looks amazing,” Leo assures you. “What, are you in love with me or something?” You retort, and he looks down at his feet. “The bigger problem is if my hair looks okay,” He says, sliding toward the mirror in your cabin. “Forgot I literally always look amazing,” He finishes, earning a smile and an eye-roll from you. Your sibling swings in the door, reminding you that the campfire is starting. 

You’ve loved Leo for, God, how long? You can’t really remember; it feels like forever. Everything about him is amazing. His honeylike voice, his gorgeous, dizzying smile, the way he always has an arm around your shoulder. 

Which is why, when –upon remembering that he might’ve left a fan running in the bunker– he leaves saying, “Go to the campfire, I’ll be back in a second. I love you,” you freeze for a second, quickly picking yourself back up, but he notices. So he adds, “Tell me how much you love me later,” and runs off. 

You start walking, hoping that the night will mask your unending love for him. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you both to remind each other you love each other. There’s no point in hiding it because you knew, at any moment, danger could strike. He was your best friend, and you his. It was just that, ever since you started wanting more, every ‘I love you,’ pet name, and each and every touch sent you into overdrive. Now, you weren’t love-crazy or anything, but he made you crazy in love, and you had come to accept it. 

The campfire shined fiercely in the distance. You slide into the seat behind your sister. Leo shows up almost a minute later and shoves some people off the bench so he can sit next to you. You’ve warned him against Chiron’s anger many times but he never listens. He never sees. 

10:30 PM

Campfire whisked away like decaying embers and you spent all of it staring at Leo. How come he doesn’t notice? How come every breath you take isn’t a ragged melody of your adoration toward him? And when you walk with him to the bunker now, how come every step you take doesn’t echo all your feelings and doesn’t send up whirling tornadoes letting him know? Letting him know that you love him?

Bunker 9 couldn’t be reached any quicker. The walk in the woods is dark but you can still see him. He shines so brightly and he doesn't even realize it. 

You walk into the little bedroom he’s made in the bunker. The gods know how many nights you’ve spent here, giggling at his stupid jokes, at his stupidly gorgeous smile, at his sleepy voice. 

You’re fixing up the collar of his shirt as he rambles on about the project he’s working on. 

He sees you in the mirror, reflecting back his love for you if he squints. Your eyes are focused on his face, so his gaze quickly darts away. He realizes the attention you’re paying to him, including the way he’s gone silent. He turns around to look at you; he takes up that chance any time he can. He swears it’s either caffeine pumping through his veins or his love for you. You look at him like whatever bullshit he’s talking about is actually important, that he’s actually important. 

“Amor, what’s the point in fixing my shirt?” He says, looking right into your eyes. He sees the morning star in them, burning brighter than the sun. You have this way about you where it seems like everything you touch glows. He hasn’t had someone who genuinely is interested in him and what he has to say since his mother. But, even then, as he sends up a prayer and leans in, he fails to believe you’d love him back. 

If he didn’t believe in your reciprocal of his love, how come he risked putting your friendship on the line? Maybe he finally saw the sparkle in your eyes whenever you thought of him. He takes a deep breath and connects your lips. 

You’re stuck, flying in a dream. His lips leave behind pocketfuls of starlight and shoot up straight up to your heart, illuminating you. You kiss him back strategically; not too intense, but with the right amount of pressure that barely mirrors the pressure he exerted on your heart. And his warmth is a blanket; it spreads to you and covers you. When he pulls away, you know. It’s like snow on the beach, the realization that he must adore you back. There’s no other explanation for how he looks at you.

“God, can you say something?” 

“I don’t wanna jinx it,” He replies. 

“Not the time to be romantic, Lee,” you say, and he scoffs. “What, you kissing me back for the first time isn’t a good time to be romantic?” 

“‘Kissing me back for the first time,’ implies you have tried before and I just didn’t do it back,” you say, unable to meet his eyes. This was all you dreamed of, for months, so why couldn’t you look at him? Were you afraid you’d have to chart the constellations in his eyes? 

“Listen, man, I liked it. I like you, I like this, so do you wanna do this?” He asks, genuineness seeping into his voice. He speaks as if you would shatter if he said the wrong thing.

Were you afraid to explain how he’d brought you back to life?

Obviously, you fucking liked it. You loved it. He tastes like ambrosia, leaving a sparkling, shining aftertaste. What was there not to love?

“I– Leo, I like you,” you say, gathering all your courage, “And obviously I want this–” He interrupts you, “‘Cause you’re head over heels in love with me?” continuing with, “Sorry, go on,” when you shoot him an incredulous look. “Are you sure you do?” you ask.

It was a simple question, really. But it produced a softness in his eyes you had never seen before like you were a kicked puppy. It made you feel vulnerable and seen, but you didn’t mind. With him, you hardly ever did. 

He reached out to take your hand. It was the only one he’s ever reached out for. He vowed to always be yours the moment he saw you. He just had to make sure you knew that too, that he was willing to braid sweet-nothings into your hair and to fall asleep on top of you every day. Willing was a humble word; he fucking needed it.

And the gods know you were determined to let him know just how much you loved him, to plant kisses on his body until they grow into surety; the type of knot that would never ever come undone.

tagging: @drvrslcense @fbfh @quteez @chasingpj @dreamerball @oliviajdjarin (just some of my favourites -- send an ask to be added)

[cyberball]

kind of long fic friends to lovers leo valdez x reader coming up this Friday, 28th October, 5pm est hiiiiiiiiiiiiii

[fbfh]

seven cakes - leo valdez x reader

wc: 2.2k

genre: domestic fluff, minimal hurt maximum comfort

pairing: leo x (gn) reader, demisquad + reader at the end

warnings: mentions and allusions to birthday trauma, a lot of food talk (specifically cake), allusions to reader having a bad relationship with their family, me coping through fics lol, (edit: also this is really self indulgent duh don't say I didn't warn you lmao)

summary: Leo is determined to make your birthday as nice as possible. The easiest way to do that? Get you seven birthday cakes.

song rec: bee's birthday song - dad box (bee and puppycat ost), paralyzed at the grocery store for all eternity - spotify playlist by dylanvandenhoeck, amar pelos dois - salvador sobral ty for this one cici

a/n: it's my birthday!!!! inspired by real life yes I do have seven cakes and I'm loving every minute of it anyway just a reminder that if you hate your birthday it'll probably get better at some point cause like,, if I can like my birthday you probs can too yk <3 also if you know what episode I reference in the beginning I wanna kiss you on the mouth /p

tags: @yesv01 @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @Fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33  @jacksondeeznuts @justbookworm @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @dustyinkpages @cowboylikekelsey @shellosisbae @anything-forourmoony  @i-dont-remember-a-lot  @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @mystic-writings   @babiesimagines @dreamerball @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @demirunner

It’s your birthday really soon, and Leo is really excited. If you ask him what his favorite holiday is, what his favorite day of the year is, even when his favorite season is, he’ll say your birthday hands down. His birthday is your favorite day of the year too, but knowing how easy it is to fluster each other, you won’t say that outright. You haven’t talked about your birthday much, in spite of how close it is. He wants to make sure this is a good day for you, as good as it can be at least. He knows you’ve had some really shitty ones in the past - especially before you met him - so now he’s determined to make them as fun and enjoyable as possible for you. He’s taking the fact that your attitude seems to be neutral leaning towards positive, maybe even happy about your birthday as a good sign.

Teeth freshly brushed, skincare applied, you’re cuddled up next to each other. You’re watching the cartoons casting soft purple and blue light into your darkened bedroom, and he’s watching your face illuminated by the screen. You look so pretty like this, you always do. Leo can’t get enough of you. He values moments like this, cherishes them so deeply he doesn’t think he can describe it. You chuckle at the end of the episode as the next one starts playing. In this episode, the main character asks her friend to hide cakes around to surprise her with. Like, a lot of cakes. 

“I want that,” you state, staring at the screen. It’s the first real birthday request you’ve made, and it makes him so happy. 

“You want a bunch of cakes?” he asks, voice gentle in the quiet atmosphere, and you can hear the smile kissing his lips. “Yeah,” you muse, hand rubbing his back, slipping below his t-shirt.

“How many?”

“Hmm…” you consider. “Two or three.” 

You’d feel bad asking for more than that. You know he’d disagree adamantly if you told him, but it’s a step forward from previous years, so you’re at peace with it. 

“What kind of cake do you want?” he asks. He’s pretty good at cooking, but he doesn’t have nearly enough experience baking, and you shouldn’t have to bake your own cake from scratch - unless you want to. He thinks he can probably get his mom to help. She adores you, and her cakes always kick ass. 

You’re quiet for a minute. 

“Can we get grocery store cake?”

“You want grocery store cake?” he asks sweetly. “Yeah,” you confirm, “like, the kind with little balloons and frosting flowers, and a printed picture of the power rangers that says ‘happy 4th birthday’ in curly font…” 

He knows exactly the kind of grocery store cake you’re talking about. You’re quiet again. He can sense some hesitance with all of this; celebrating your birthday in a way that doesn’t end in tears and fighting and disappointment is still new. It’s uncharted territory for you. He knows it’s hard, knows it’s scary. He wants to make sure you know that he understands what you’re going through, and that he’s going to be there, holding your hand, the entire time. He smiles up at you, a look so determined to get you the ultimate grocery store cake on his face that it has you chuckling.

“I will get you the biggest, most frosting flowered power rangers grocery store-iest cake they have.” He gazes at you with brazen, comedic confidence before settling back down into your chest.

You smile, a timid excitement beginning to grow. He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck and pressing cozy, familiar kisses against your skin. His hands run over your sides, your stomach, warm and tracking shapes, leaving reassuring touches wherever they fall. It’s a silent confirmation that he’s here for you, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Until he can make your birthdays amazing, and fantastic, and great, he’s going to make them good. 

Walking through the familiar aisles of your grocery store, Leo drags you and your metal shopping cart around.

“Over there!” he exclaims, making a beeline for the baking aisle. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, he still looks really, really fucking good. The anxiety begins to melt away as you watch him, latching onto his easy going, vibrant energy. He wears a fluid sense of humor like a well loved hoodie, always wrapped around him and providing a tangible sense of comfort to everyone nearby. You stay close as you walk down the linoleum tiles, keeping a tight grip on his proverbial sleeve. After a minute or two of searching back and forth, you finally find the boxed cake mix. 

“Chocolate, vanilla, carrot cake,” he says, skimming the flavors in bright font on the boxes.

“Yeah, pretty standard…” you muse, doing the same. He’s quiet for a second, and you turn around. He’s holding boxes of your two favorite flavors, an excited smirk on his face.

“What if we combined these into a layer cake?” he asks. He watches closely as you face lights up a tiny bit.

“Perfect!” you smile, and he tosses them into the cart, satisfied that he’s starting to help you feel more like yourself. You grab a few cans of frosting in your favorite color, and start to look at the sprinkles. 

“Estrella,” he says, and you turn around again. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp. He’s holding a box mix and matching frosting in the flavor of your favorite cereal.

“We kind of have to, right?” he asks, coaxing another smile out of you.

“Absolutely,” you say, examining the box before tossing it into the cart “this looks so good…” 

After thoroughly inspecting the various sprinkles and decorations, you settle on colored sugar in your favorite color, and two bottles of pastel star shaped sprinkles. You grab a few small tubes of frosting, also in your favorite colors, before finally making your way over to the bakery section. You grab some candy and chips along the way, then begin looking through displays of cupcakes. After skimming through several weird flavor combinations and more than a few misplaced boxes of muffins, you pick out a box of cupcakes with different colors of frosting and little birthday toppers on them.

“We should probably pick out the ice cream cake last, right?” Leo asks, looking at the ingredients of a cherry hand pie. 

“Yeah,” you agree, pausing to look at different bagel flavors they have in a case. The last thing either of you want is for one of your cakes to melt. You meet him over at the cake counter, looking at the different flavors and designs. You don’t see any with frosting flowers, but your focus is quickly pulled away.

“Aww,” you say, pointing out one with a trio of frosting balloons in the corner, “that one’s cute.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, checking the smile on your face, “it looks really good too.” He places it in the cart, careful not to smush any of the other items you already have in there. 

On your way to the frozen aisle, you take turns pointing out various items you have no use for and declaring matter of factly, “I want that.” It’s a small joke, but it’s been making both of you laugh nonetheless. You lose track of Leo for a second. You’re about to call out ‘Sparky?’ in hopes of finding him, before you see him hovering at an end cap by the pharmacy section. 

“We should get this.” he deadpans, holding up a travel sized bottle of generic brand pepto bismol for kids, with a skateboarding giraffe that says awesome! on the label. You repress a chuckle.

“We’ll use it to decorate my cake,” you say, a faux sweet sincerity to your voice that gets a loud laugh out of him, and then one out of you by proxy. 

You finally find the frozen food aisle. You stand next to each other, staring at ice cream cakes and ice cream bars, and various other forms of ice cream for a little while. Soon you settle on a cute cake that will go nicely with the other flavors you picked out already. You place it in your cart. You close the door, and Leo draws a little heart on the foggy glass of the freezer. It makes you smile, bringing in that comfortable warmth in your chest you always get from being around him. You draw a little heart next to his, then a smiley face. He adds a birthday hat, then traces a little cake in the remaining fog, writing ‘hbd.’ and you both giggle. You’re sure that will be a fun surprise for whoever comes to get an ice cream cake next. 

At the check out, he grabs your favorite candy, then one for himself as you begin to check out. 

“Oh shit,” he says quietly, looking at the cart. You look over at him. “We forgot the milk. I’ll go grab it real quick.” you agree, and he heads off. You’re glad he remembered, you’d feel pretty silly if you spent all this time at the grocery store and forgot something like milk. 

You continue carefully taking all the cakes out of your cart. You feel good about all the ones you picked out, and you’re excited to make the boxed cakes together. And by making them together, you mean you’ll make them and he’ll keep you company, then you’ll both decorate them together. Talking with Leo, sitting on the kitchen floor with him while the sweet smell of pastries and vanilla fills the room, making each other laugh while the timer steadily ticks down is your favorite part of baking anything. You’re looking forward to it.

It takes him a little longer than you expected, but he’s back with milk by the time you’re almost done checking out. He triumphantly presents you with the carton. He checks your energy, your vibe again, and he’s relieved when you don’t seem suspicious at all. By the time you’re walking back to your car, making easy conversation, he’s confident he can pull off this extra surprise for you. 

Usually on your birthday, you have some kind of movie night with your close friends, maybe a few family members you’re actually on good terms with. You don’t like to make a fuss about your birthday, that much is obvious, and everyone knows to play it low key. This time is no different, you think, as you set out bowls of popcorn and boxes of candy on the coffee table. Once the gang’s all here, before you start the movie, Leo brings out the cake. Then another. And another. By the third cake, everyone is thoroughly amused. 

“Wait, how many cakes are there?” Hazel asks with a laugh. 

“Seven.” Leo states, bringing out cake number four. 

“I thought we got five,” you say.

“We did,” he starts, bringing out yet another cake, “cupcakes, two boxed cakes, and ice cream cake, plus the one my mom made for you…”

You let out a giggle, still so endeared from when she had dropped by to give it to you in person earlier and wish you a happy birthday. She gave you the biggest hug, and the cake smelled so good, you really couldn’t wait to try it. In spite of how well you get along, it still came as a shock that she would do something so sweet for you. 

“You really thought she wasn’t going to make you a cake?” he asks rhetorically, “C’mon Estrella, she loves you.” He squeezes your shoulder with a smile, one you return.

“Yeah, but that’s still six!” you call as he leaves the room again.  

“Well…” he starts, a mischievous tone to his voice. You have an idea of where this might be going. 

“What did you do?” you ask through a smile. You see a flash of glowing orange light outside the doorway, and he signals for everyone to start singing. He enters with a sheet cake covered in frosting flowers and sprinkles, adorned with a picture of the power rangers on it, reading “happy 4th birthday!” in curly script. He lights the rest of the candles with his fingertips and places the cake in front of you. You let out the sweetest, most heartfelt bubbling laugh he’s heard in a while, and it warms him to his core.

In the glow of the tiny candle light, the corners of your eyes are misty as your friends/found family sing happy birthday to you. Every detail you mentioned, every little thing about this cake that might be totally meaningless to someone else, Leo remembered it. He perfected your vision to a tee. 

The sight of the brightly colored crime fighters looking back at you as candle wax drips down near the frosting fills you with a joyous feeling you can’t describe. Leo intertwines his hand with yours. You’re fighting giggles and tears, and when you blow out the candles, you think this is the first great birthday you’ve had. The first of many. You’re looking forward to when your birthdays become awesome, spectacular, perfect, and you can’t wait to spend all of them with Leo. 

[fbfh]

leo x reader kissing hcs

wc: 600

pairing: leo x gn reader

genre: fluff, sfw

warnings: none?? kissing and leo running late for something bc adhd

song rec: SPECIFICALLY the lyric "when we talked about kissing" from a song that I still want to gatekeep bc I want to write a full scenario for it so I don't want to spoil it but when I write/post that I'll edit it in here

Also this untitled Shauna Dean Cokeland song about cinnamon bubblegum

a/n: thinking of the richard scarry pigs kissing illustration <333

Leo is in fact 

An amazing kisser

Absolutely delightful

A sweet treat even

God you could kiss him all day

And have probably come close before 

And fuck me he loves kissing you too

Sometimes what motivates you to get through all your silly little tasks is getting to give him a big loving smooch

His lips are so warm and soft

Sometimes he’ll taste vaguely of something spicy and fruity citrus

He likes tropical twist and winterfresh gum so imagine him tasting kind of like that 

He smiles into kisses a lot too

Just because you really do make him that happy

It’s so fucking cute

Sometimes you guys will kiss and kiss and kiss until you’re both so happy you’re smiling too much to kiss anymore

You just descend into giggly cuddles until you start kissing again

Sometimes if he’s trying to avoid being late for something bc of ~time blindness~ 

 Just adhd things uwu

Once he grabs his bag and pulls on a jacket

 Boy is from houston he’s cold all the time

He runs over to you and presses a quick big smooch on your cheek, then informs you he’s running horribly late bc he forgot that thing was at that time, and he’ll be back in an hour and he loves you

You love him too!!! 

You tell him that and to have fun <3

And goddamn if it doesn’t make his heart FLUTTER every time

The whole time he’s doing the thing he’s supposed to be doing he’s just thinking about you

About why time has to drag by so slow

He just wants to get home so he can kiss you and make you giggle against his lips and murmur how much he loves you against your skin

After a painstaking hour that feels like an almost comically longer amount of time, he’s finally done 

He stops to get a redbull for himself and an (optionally caffeinated) beverage of choice for you and texts you to ask if you want any snacks while he’s there

He returns shortly with your favorite chips and candy and plants the biggest kiss on your lips

He drops the bag he was holding

Thankfully containing nothing breakable

All his attention is focused on you

Overflowing love pours out of him and into you

Into your heart

Finally you part, foreheads touching, breath fanning over each other’s faces

“Hi,” 

“Hi.”

“...I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Sparky.”

More kissing

More wonderful sweet soft warm loving kissing 

It’s only after a minute or two after you finally pull away that you notice the bag of snacks is still on the floor

Or later when you’re getting ready for bed

You’re all comfy and in your pjs and getting ready to do your skincare before you go to sleep

You see him come up behind you in the mirror and rest his head on your shoulder

He presses little kisses along your neck and jaw

Eventually moving up to your face and murmuring in your ear about how good kisses are for your skin

He squeezes you tighter when you giggle, loving the sound

Soon you’re in bed together, all warm and cuddled up

You’re talking about anything that crosses your minds, just loving the togetherness, the sound of each other’s voice

Your hands are running through his hair and his face is nuzzled into your neck

You press kisses onto wherever your can reach, punctuating your sentences as you talk

They get slower and messier as you both get sleepier

You’re both out like lights before you know it

And you know as soon as you wake up tomorrow, he and the sun shining through your window will both be waking you up, pressing equally warm kisses into your skin

@avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @Fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33  @jacksondeeznuts @justbookworm @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @dustyinkpages @shellosisbae @anything-forourmoony @perseajohnson  @i-dont-remember-a-lot  @thatmultifandomloser @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @yelenabel0vaswife @mystic-writings   @babiesimagines @Fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @dreamerball @urmum-xoxo@Asunnyhunny @yesv01