val 💌🌿

"You're joking, right? Annabeth, tell me you're joking," you said, your eyes widening with disbelief as she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

"It's one week. You'll be fine, I promise."

"No, no, absolutely not. You are practically condemning me to the fiery pits of Tartarus and telling me it's no big deal?!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in mock despair.

"I'm not sending you to hell, I'm just saying that you'll have to teach arts and crafts with Leo while I'm gone."

"It's the same thing!" You squealed, but she just groaned in annoyance at your dramatics. "That kid's a mess! Why can't you just get Will or someone with talent to help?"

"Leo is talented, he's a great mechanic," Annabeth pleaded. "And all of the Apollo kids said no."

"Whatever. I can't even look at you right now," you huffed, storming off, maybe being a smidge irrational, but it was deserved.

Annabeth had just announced that she was visiting Percy's family during the week you two were leading arts and crafts. Normally that would be all fine and dandy, but she just had to pick the worst, most insufferable person to cover for her; Leo Valdez.

Okay, so he was good with mechanics. Cool. But what the hell did he know about actual arts and crafts?! Plus, he was the textbook definition of a self-deemed "class clown." Not everything needs to be turned into a joke, you know.

Whatever. It'll be fine. Right?

DAY ONE

"You're late," you muttered under your breath, not even bothering to look up while setting clay out for each camper.

"No I'm not. It hasn't even started yet," Leo replied as he jogged up to the empty tables, watching you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You're supposed to be here fifteen minutes early to set up."

"Uh, okay. Noted, I guess," Leo pursed his lips, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he glanced around. You loomed over the wooden tables, carefully setting down the bowls of clay until each placemat had the right amount of equipment. Once you were done, you finally looked up at him, shoving the extra supplies into his arms.

"Don't let it happen again," you said, ignoring the grunt he let out from the sudden impact, as well as the side-eye he sent you.

Leo shrugged it off and opened the large craft cabinet, throwing the supplies in without a care. "So, what are we making today?" He asked, picking up the paint tubes that had fallen out of the container.

"You didn't read the lesson plans?" You asked, stopping to turn to him. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes as he tried to keep everything in the cabinet from falling on top of him.

"….. there were lesson plans?"

"You didn't— Never mind. Today we're making vases, tomorrow we're painting them."

Leo quickly shut the cabinet door, everything practically spilling out and guaranteed to crash down on the next person who opened it. Eh, not his problem. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad. I’ll lead, you just.. walk around and help the kids out, okay?” You instructed, staring down at the tables. Something felt… off.

“Fine by me,” Leo shrugged, plopping down in one of the chairs and resting his head on his palm. He stared blankly off into the distance, wondering what he was going to build next once this was over. You stood confused, your hands on your hips and eyes squinting. What were you forgetting?

“Paper towels!” You exclaimed, heading to the dreaded craft closet. Not thinking straight, you opened the door and all of art supplies plummeted out. Just your luck!

A long groan escaped your lips as you dragged your fingers down your face, causing Leo to snicker. You shot him a threatening glare, and he was quick to cover his laughter with a cough and look away.

Snatching the roll of paper towels, you pushed all of the paint tubes, loose paper, and other junk into the closet. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the wooden door.

“I hate that stupid closet.”

DAY TWO

You found yourself trudging through the evergreen trees as the sun began its ascent into the cloudy sky, not exactly thrilled to be back at the arts and crafts center. Yesterday hadn’t gone terribly, much to your surprise. Leo had proven to be somewhat competent, and maybe even helpful? It’s up for debate. But still, you were not looking forward to another four days of working with him.

Your keychain jingled in your grip with every step, your once white shoes getting slightly darker from the mix of morning dew and dirt. Eventually, after a quiet and (purposely) long walk, you reached the impressive entrance to your own personal hell. With a long, drawn out sigh, you flipped through the array of different keys on your keychain, looking for the one that unlocked the arts and crafts building.

As you turned the silver piece of small metal into the lock, a look of confusion danced upon your face. The door was.. already unlocked? Whatever. Maybe you just forgot to lock it after the chaos that occurred yesterday. Shrugging, you pulled your key out and walked inside, only to figure out that your hypothesis was completely wrong.

“You’re late,” a familiar boy declared with a sly grin that rivaled the Cheshire Cat. He leaned against a counter top, arms over his chest and confident as ever.

“No I’m not. It’s only—“

“7:46. You’re supposed to be here fifteen minutes early, not fourteen.”

“Are you serious right now? You, Leo freakin’ Valdez, are scolding me about being late?” You asked, eyebrows raised and mouth agape at his audacity. “You haven’t even started setting up!”

“Well duh, I can’t set up and gloat at the same time,” he stated, rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You did nothing in response but scoff and head toward the horrifying supply closet. How arrogant of him to show up early out of spite.

While you weren’t in the mood to get crushed by every art supply possible, you didn’t have much of a choice. You needed those bottles of paint. So, you put your brave face on and braced yourself to be attacked by a bunch of loose paper and paintbrushes. However, as you opened the cabinet, the onslaught of art supplies never came. Instead, you opened your eyes to find… everything neatly organized in pretty containers?!

The gallons of paint were stacked in rainbow order at the bottom, every paintbrush had been cleaned and placed in a handmade caddy, and even the paper had been organized by size and color.

Was this a gift from one of the gods? No, they didn’t care about arts and crafts. Perhaps Chiron wanted to help out? No, he spent all of last night in The Big House with Mr.D.. Did a kid do this? No, no one else has the keys to get in. That meant it had to be—

“You like it? I wasn’t sure if the mahogany wood shelves were too much, but I think it looks nice. Really fits the vibe of—“

“You did this?” You questioned, cutting him off and looking at him with curiosity.

“Yeah, I mean—“

“When? This closet would’ve taken hours to organize, plus you built the shelves.”

“Three hours to be exact. Why do you think I was here so early?” Leo shrugged nonchalantly, stepping beside you to grab some supplies since you were too stunned to do so.

“You woke up at 4 to clean? Why?”

“I actually never went to sleep. The shelves took a little bit to make.”

“You— what? I’m at a loss for words. Why? And.. and how?”

“Relax, I do this all the time.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better! I— I’ll go and get you coffee once I’m done setting up. Your break is supposed to be from one o’clock to one thirty, and mine is supposed to be from one thirty to two, but you can use my break, too, so yours is an hour long. Clearly you need it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know, most chicks think I’m shockingly handsome, even with eye-bags and bedhead, ” he started, following you as you walked over to the sinks and filled old cups with water.

“Did you just refer to women as chicks? Bleh. Didn’t realize you were a dork and a misogynist,” you replied, punctuating your sentence with a fake gag at the end. Turning off the rusty, creaky faucet, you shoved some water-cups into his hands and returned back to the tables, quickly placing them down at every seat.

“Misogynist?!” Leo stomped behind you with furrowed brows and a confused frown as he mimicked your actions, sloppily setting down the cups.

“What, is that too big of a word for you? A misogynist is someone who-“

“I know what it means! But me?! A woman hater?!”

“That’s not exactly-“

“I love women!” Leo exclaimed, although it didn’t seem to be helping his case. He turned to you, his expression suddenly serious and skin slightly paler. He look.. almost determined, like proving to you he wasn’t a woman-hating-incel was extremely important. You froze momentarily, curious as to what his next words were going to be.

“Trust me, I loveee women.” Leo said in a slow, sultry voice, eyes locked on yours.

You rolled your eyes and got back to work, setting everything up for the campers. “Ew.”

He scoffed, following your actions again until every cup in his hands was gone. Geez, you were a hard person to please. “I didn’t mean it in a pervy way! Well, I mean, I do love tits, but-”

“Go grab the paintbrushes,” you cut him off sternly, blinking slowly while sending a death stare his direction.

You did not have time to deal with his bullshit right now. Just when you were starting to think that maybe, just possibly, he wasn’t the most annoying person on the planet, he had to open his dumb mouth.

“I mean, I love boobs in a positive, uplifting way! I’m a feminist. Hashtag.. girl power?”

“Go.”

He gave in with a sigh, trudging back to the (now organized) storage closet and clutching handfuls of worn-out paintbrushes. You smiled softly to yourself, shaking your head behind his back. At least working with him was entertaining? Don’t tell him that, though.

DAY THREE

“No, Charlotte, please put the scissors down. Where did you even get these from?” You asked the little blonde girl with a sigh, gently grabbing the large, red pair of scissors for her delicate hands. The group you had were the littles, the itty-bitty-baby demigods who were currently supposed to be finger painting, not scarily cutting up construction paper and waving a sharp objects at their peers.

“He gave them to me,” Charlotte replied, unbothered by the sudden interruption. She was quick to pick up a new, unshredded piece of paper and smear purple paint all over it (and the table) with her tiny fingers.

“Who?” You looked at her confused.

“Your boyfriend, over there.”

You glanced back in terror at where she sassily pointed, your eyes being met with the mess that was Leo Valdez. His hair was somehow both sticking upright and slicked down at the same time, likely the result of him running his hand through his hair in stress. His art-apron was covered in child-size handprints, the paint leaking onto his t-shirt. Not like it mattered, anyways, the shirt already had been stained with grease and oil. Or, at least you hoped they were grease and oil stains.

He was wearing a dorky smile as he helped a little boy, Lucas, smear paint all over a large paper. The kid was buzzing with laughter as the teen helped him, practically jumping out of his seat with excitement when Leo cracked another dumb joke.

Maybe it was just the lighting from the stained glass window, but Leo looked.. well, cute. His smirk, while dorky, showed off his slight dimples that could only be seen if you looked really hard. And.. were those.. little freckles? Huh, you never noticed those. They looked good on him.

No, no, no, no. Who are we kidding? This is Leo we’re talking about. It was the lighting, probably.

“He’s not my…” you trailed off, realizing Charlotte was already past this conversation and couldn’t care less. You shrugged it off, walking to the closet to lock the scissors back up and confront Leo on the way.

“Leo, why would you give a four-year-old scissors?”

“Huh?” Leo spun around to see you stuffing the scissors back in the cubby where they belonged. “Oh, she said she needed them to make a slingshot,” he shrugged with nonchalance, going back to painting with Lucas.

“And.. you saw nothing wrong with that?” You asked, raising your brows in disbelief.

“I was encouraging her interest in STEM. What, you don’t think a woman should be interested in engineering?” He glanced back with that stupid, devious smirk, like he had outsmarted you.

“What?”

“Boom! Who’s the misogynist now?!” He exclaimed, oddly joyous over this very incorrect revolution. You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his dumb expression, walking back to your original seat.

“What’s a misogynist?” Lucas asked Leo with innocence, batting his eyes in confusion up at him.

“Uhhhh…”

DAY FOUR

Leo shuffled through the camp counselor refrigerator, pushing past all of the junk and empty containers that would probably never get thrown out. Why was there so many coffee creamers to choose from?

Should he pick vanilla? That’s a safe choice, classic. Who doesn’t like vanilla creamer in their coffee? Ooh, maybe pumpkin spice? Wait, no, it’s June. Has that been in there since last October?

Leo snagged the vanilla coffee creamer from the fridge, bringing it to the counter where two cups of coffee sat. As he opened the plastic container and began to pour it into the mug, he froze, eyes going wide. What if you didn’t like creamer in your coffee?! Did you drink it black?! How the hell was he supposed to know?!

He glanced back down at his watch. 7:39 am.

He had exactly two minutes to finish making the coffees, so he could leave and walk to the arts and crafts center, which would take two minutes, and then get there one minute early. He was fine, everything was fine. Well, besides the fact that he still didn’t know how you liked your coffee.

After staring at the cow on the creamer bottle for a minute, he finally came up with a solution. He would have one with creamer and one without, so you could pick your favorite, and he would get whatever one you didn’t want! Ugh, you were lucky he was such a genius. Although he hated black coffee, so.. maybe not the smartest solution, but he was willing to suffer for you.

He took off, a mug in each hand as he strutted nervously to the arts and crafts center.

Why was he so anxious? This was just a nice thing to do for a friend. A coworker. A fellow hardworking counselor. Leo didn’t really care about you. He was being selfish, actually. He was only doing this to see you smile, because oh, he loves your smile. In a friendly, platonic, coworker way, of course.

Leo arrived at the arts and crafts center at 7:44, exactly as he planned, and scrambled inside before you could get there. He set the cups down, rushing to one of the small mirrors to make sure he looked okay. His hair was.. well, a little messy, but decent. He had no motor grease on his face and he made sure to pick out a fresh shirt with no mysterious stains. He wanted to look good for his friend, of course, platonically.

Oh, who are we kidding, he was head over heels for you.

The moment you arrived at camp, with your “gorgeous face and even gorgeouser attitude” (Leo’s words), he fell in love. Hearts in his eyes, he watched as you stood up for yourself, not taking anyone's bullshit, including his. He knew he wanted you, so he came up with one of his genius plans to make you swoon and practically fall at his feet: annoying you to death.

It didn’t work. Weird.

After consulting his closest non-single friends, they told him that, you know, actually showing interest would probably be a better approach. Huh. Who would’ve guessed?

So, here he was, early, presentable, and with two coffees as a sort of peace offering.

“You gonna help set up or just stare into the mirror the whole time?”

Leo let out an embarrassing yelp, quickly jumping around to see you, already heading to the supply closet. Cheeks flushing red, he pat out the small sparks that lit the tips of his curls. He decided to largely ignore your comment and picked up the two mugs.

“I brought coffee. One has vanilla creamer and one just plain. You pick,” he said, offering the cups out to you and hoping you didn’t notice the sudden rosiness to his cheeks.

“Oh… Thanks,” you replied slowly with confusion, carefully taking the vanilla coffee from his hands. “That’s.. nice of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“What, bad boy supreme can’t be nice every once in a while?”

“Did you just refer to yourself as ‘bad boy supreme?’ Yikes. That’s a new low, even for you,” you said, sipping on the coffee as you grabbed the glue from the cabinet.

“Hey, other people call me that too, y’know,” he replied as he took a sip of his black coffee, before immediately spitting it back out into the same cup while your head was turned. Yuck. This was definitely going down the sink while you weren’t looking.

“Who calls you bad boy supreme? The voices in your head don’t count, Leo.”

Normally he would be offended, but when he glanced back at you, you were smiling. Like, actually smiling, almost like you enjoyed the banter. Your teeth sparkled under the morning sunlight, the beams caressing your hair and casting a gold aura around you. You strutted with confidence, like you had no care in the world, just gliding around the room with grace. You were so.. beautiful. So ethereal, so majestic, Leo thought he might actually burst into flames at the sight.

Then the realization hit him. He was thinking about you.

The person who couldn’t stand him. The person who was only here because you had to be. Every day when your shift ended, you bolted without hesitation, eager to get as far away from him as possible. Leo always lingered behind, watching you slip back to your cabin and vanish until morning.

He’d drag himself to Bunker 9 after that, burying his thoughts in whatever project he could get his hands on, but every idea led right back to you. The sparks of the metal against fire were like the sparks in your eyes when you laughed. His accidental welding mess-up kinda looked like your favorite flower, if you squinted. Eventually he’d give up, head to his cabin, and lie there wide awake, the thought of seeing you again too exciting to even pretend to sleep.

And on the rare nights when he did manage to drift off, you filled every dream; the smooth touch of your hands, the sweet sound of your voice, the warmth of your smile all taunting him. While he sat awake every night, consumed by the thought of you, you probably slept like a baby, dreaming of someone who was less of a screw up. Someone like Jason, or Percy. The thought stung like a knife to the chest.

“You okay?” You asked after a while of watching him stare off into space.

He swallowed the weird feeling rising in his throat back down. It hurt.

“Mhm,” he nodded, getting back to setting up without another word.

DAY FIVE

“You’re quieter than normal,” you mentioned while sweeping up all the glitter off the tables. The campers had a free-day today and.. it was definitely chaotic. And sparkly.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating? The last day is over. You’re free,” Leo replied, pettily scraping glitter glue off of a particularly hard spot on the floor. Gods, why wouldn’t these stupid sparkles come up?!

“Celebrating?”

“Yeah, no more kids all day, no more cleanup.” Leo swallowed. “No more me.”

The loose string on his crewneck seemed very interesting right about now.

You paused, your face suddenly dropping. “Oh. I guess so.”

The wretched sound of a screwdriver scraping against the floors echoed as Leo tried to clean the dried glitter. Don’t ask where he got the screwdriver. Nobody knows.

You could not keep this awkward, painful silence up. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He always made a snobby comment or a dumb joke.

“I liked working with you,” you blurted out suddenly.

Leo took in a shaky breath, eyes meeting your figure, but you didn’t look at him. You kept cleaning, your eyes burning a hole in the table as you avoided glancing at him. His mind told him that you were lying, only saying that to make him feel better, but the way you moved skittishly out of nervousness told a different story. “I liked working with you, too.”

“The kids love you, you know. Lucas asked out Max the other day, it was the cutest thing ever. He said you told him all the tricks to win over a lady.”

“Ah, yeah, I guess so,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t know if I have the best advice, though. Doesn’t work well on the ladies, in my experience.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“Uh… to be confident, suave, clean up well, the basics," Leo murmured, hoping you didn't notice the burning red crawling up his neck and spotting his tan skin.

“You? 'Suave?' 'Clean up well?'" you joked, "Doesn't really sound like you."

Leo didn't smile, or throw a jab back, but instead kept his focus on angry-scraping. "Works better than being myself."

You paused momentarily as you furrowed your brows. Leo didn't usually show this side of himself to you. Not to many people, actually, but especially not you, his enemy (that he was secretly in love with, but it's not like you knew that part).

“That's not true. Girls like it when you be yourself.”

"They like when other guys be themselves. Not me."

Huh.

Still no quips. Just.. quiet vulnerability.

Maybe you need to lighten the mood, keep joking until he lightens up. "Oh come on, you're telling me that not one girl has fallen for your 'signature charm'?"

"Nope." Leo said, annoyance swirling with self-depreciation and poisoning his tone, leaving you silently stunned.

You know what, screw it. If he's being open about his feelings, you can be too.

"Well, I know one girl."

Now, Leo wasn't exactly good with girls. The closest to a girlfriend he ever got was in first grade when a girl held his hand at recess, and even then, she broke up with him ten minutes later. But despite all of his failed flirting over the years, he understood the hidden meaning that was woven in your words. Or, at least he hoped he did.

"Uhm.. who?" He asked with wide eyes, blinking slowly as he froze to stare at you. Please, please, please, say the girl was you.

"You need me to explain?" You asked, sending a withering glare his way and raising your eyebrow sarcastically. "Jeez, Leo, I can't do everything for you."

What is that supposed to mean? How could you say that with no explanation and just go back to cleaning?

As he stared at your form, his mouth wide and expression dumbfounded, he realized he absolutely needed to grow a pair and ask you out immediately.

"Do- can we go on a date? Uhm.. like, maybe a picnic? Or.. or, a hike or something, if you don't like picnics? Or maybe-"

"Leo."

"..Yeah?" He questioned sheepishly.

"A picnic sounds nice, you dork."

Holy shit, holy shit, this was happening! You were going on a date! With him! Stay calm, stay calm! "Yeah, yeah, picnic it is."

"Don't let me down, fireboy."

With that, Leo knew two things.

ᯓ★ leo’s favorite hobby is giving you head. he will sit for hours in bunker 9, kissing your thighs and cradling your hips as he absolutely devours your pussy. embarrassingly (at least he thinks so), he’s gotten off untouched multiple times while eating you out, the mere sounds of your pleasure having him creaming his pants.

ᯓ so when one day, when you’d lost count of what orgasm you were on, and your hands were all tangled in his messy curls, you let it slip in between moans. just a simple “good boy,” through breathy groans, not thinking much of it.

ᯓ★ something IMMEDIATELY switched in him. that poor boy didn’t even know what a praise kink was until the sweet words left your lips.

ᯓ he froze for a second, looking up at you with those beady, brown eyes before going back to eating you out with a new hunger. he needed to hear you say it again.

₊˚♬ ﾟ.

leo’s hands were all over your smooth skin, the roughness of his palms easing over every exposed inch. you were splayed out on his work desk in bunker 9, the cold metal a shocking contrast against your heat. old blueprints and loose papers rested on the old floors, buried deep underneath your scrunched up clothes. his fingers, nimble and long, squeezed the flesh of your hips as he buried his head in between your plush thighs. you had just cum for the.. well, you had lost count by now.

leo was already kissing a path up your thighs, leaving dark, purple hickeys next to your glistening cunt. just as your breath began to settle, he pounced again, his tongue softly teasing you.

“leo, please,” you pleaded, palms sweaty and fingers clenching around nothing as you waited. “need more.”

usually, he would’ve drawn it out, kitten-licking your pussy until you couldn’t take it anymore. but the way you looked down at him, eyes all wide and soft with neediness, changed his mind. he couldn’t say no to his girl, not when she was so good at begging,

his tongue plunged into your hole, greedily tasting your gummy walls that clenched upon his entry. a hand temporarily left your hip, his thumb moving down to circle your clit with speed.

it was overwhelming, the feeling of his warmth all over you, the sound of his slurping echoing throughout the empty bunker. you hand snaked its way into leo’s hair, tugging the brown locs gently as a way of relief. your legs wrapped around his head, but not hard enough to squeeze him to death. not like he would mind.

your breath hitched, breathy moans escaping your lips as tremors wracked your body. he was relentless, this tongue thriving and hitting every nerve and sensitive spot, preparing to send you over the edge once again.

the praise slipped out without a thought, “good boy,” you moaned.

leo froze.

his mouth stilled against you, and his fingers went rigid, their delicate rhythm ending as he looked up at you. before you could even register what was going on, why he had stopped, leo was fucking destroying your pussy again. his sneaky fingers slipped inside of your entrance, plunging in and out with a new, brutal pace. his mouth, already swollen and soaked with your juices, latched onto your plump clit, sucking you dry.

“leo!” you gasped in shock, the sudden attack becoming almost unbearable with pleasure.

“no, no, that’s not what you called me. say it again. please,”

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ᯓ★ jason loves making sure you’re happy. in bed, you’re first to cum (likely more than once) before he’s spilling over. on your period, he’s making sure you have candy galore, heating pads, whatever you want, he’ll get.

ᯓ naturally, he likes to be rewarded for his efforts. sometimes it’s a quick kiss, other times it’s mind-blowing head. but it’s never been “good boy.”

ᯓ★ that’s why he was so caught off guard by the nickname, especially when you slipped it in to conversation so casually, like it was no big deal. like your words didn’t immediately give him a raging hard-on.

₊˚♬ ﾟ.

the book page turned carefully under jason’s fingers as he read, his fingers flipping with delicacy despite their large size. his midnight-blue glasses rested gently on his nose while he skimmed through the intricate words on the papers. he was consumed by the story, even with you sitting next to him, looking all pretty and dolled up and horny.

the sight was something out of a shakespeare play, your boyfriend looking as delectable as he was oblivious. you needed to do something before you snapped.

“hey, jase?” you whispered softly, batting your eyes at him and lacing your voice with a syrupy, faux innocence. “can you grab my water bottle, pretty please?”

without a second thought, he abandoned his book on the nightstand, traveling across the room to fetch your water bottle like a puppy dog. he returned, the cool metal slipping into your waiting hand as he sat back down on the bed. “good boy,” you hummed nonchalantly, watching his reaction and saving it for later.

his eyes widened, watching as your lips wrapped around the straw and sucked. your cheeks hallowed with a long, deliberate swallow, the cold water trickling down your throat. a sneaky, wicked smile crossed your face as you set the bottle down.

jason’s cheeks were flushed deep crimson, his eyes darting around nervously, and a distinct tent was forming against his his soft, grey sweatpants. exactly as you planned.

“awe, baby,” you cooed, shifting to settle between his thighs, “can i help you?” fiddling with the waistband of his boxers, your hand waited impatiently for a response.

“please,” was all jason could choke out, too flustered to muster up another response.

that was all you needed. your greedy hands slipped his pants and boxers down in one swoosh. his cock sprang free, the tip a pretty pink and already oozing with precum. you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your wrist rhythmically gliding up and down as you jerked him off. his guttural moans blessed your ears as you teased.

he was a vocal mess, deep groans and raw moans leaving his lips at every movement. in one seamless motion, your mouth wrapped around his tip and slid all the way down to the base, his dirty blond hairs tickling the tip of your nose.

“oh— oh, fuck!”

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from the artist herself:

- he literally treats you like a princess

this one’s a given. i mean, i think he would treat any partner of his like absolute royalty, but ESPECIALLY a daughter of aphrodite. you’re the most beautiful, kindest, loveliest girl at camp, who chose him as a boyfriend. let’s be so real, his self esteem is lowww. he can’t believe someone like you would date someone like him, so he’s constantly trying to prove his worth. he’s picking wildflowers every other morning, spending hours researching the best perfume to buy (or, in his case, steal), learning how to bake for you, etc. the ground is too muddy? he’s carrying you, somehow. anything to see you smile.

not to mention, he needs to impress your mother, too. no mom would want their daughter dating someone who didn’t treat them right. plus, she’s the goddess of love, he needs to prove himself.

- you two are literally the most devious duo

with your charmspeak and his personality? you’re practically running the camp within a week. or, on the contrary, bringing it to shambles. doesn’t matter. you’ll help him pull his dumb pranks on jason using your powers, or persuade someone into giving you their desert at dinner so leo can have extra.

- he has a.. love-hate relationship with your siblings

they.. weren’t exactly fond of him at first. he’s reckless, loud, messy, and always at your cabin. not exactly great brother-in-law material. butttt one night, he was sleeping over like usual, and in exchange for your half-siblings silence, he let them do his makeup. and you bet they went all out. full glitter eyeshadow, a perfect foundation match, even tweezing his brows a little (he definitely cried). but in the end, they had a blast, he got to sleepover at his girlfriend’s cabin, and he looked like a baddie. since then, your siblings loved him, always inviting him to spend the night whenever he wanted.

- listens to ALL of the gossip

he will sit and listen for HOURS as you rant on about everything happening in your life. he’s always on your side before the story even starts, no matter what (even if you were in the wrong occasionally). he’ll ask for updates throughout the weeks, genuinely invested in the drama, although he also just loves to listen to you talk. he’ll be working on some engine in bunker 9 and keep messing up purely because he was listening to your story about tina and her new boyfriend.

“she said what now?!”

“i know, right?!”

- lovesss writing cheesy love letters

this ties into the first one, but he absolutely needs you to know how lucky he is to have you in his life. he’ll deliver a handwritten letter to you almost every other day, with sweet paragraphs inside. they range from talking about how your eyes sparkle like the lake on a sunny day, to how your ass jiggles like jello with every step! he’s a man of many words, what can i say. you think at some point he’d run out of things to say, but nope! he finds something every. single. time.

smutty / nasty ones !!

- reader lives on their own :)

- goes FERAL for you in lingerie

good luck if you wear ANY form of sexy underwear around him. you will not be leaving your bed the rest of the night; he WILL be eating that ass like a cheesecake. it could be anything, pastel with bows, lacy black thongs, probably even granny panties, he does not gaf. door is locked, clothes are off, dick is bricked.

- secretly loves being topped

not even a secret let’s be sooo real. tease him in the slightest and he’s a whimpering, moaning mess within seconds. he’ll rarely ever ask, but you need to ride him, genuinely life changing for the both of you. he might actually combust on the spot but #worthit. you don’t have to be too rough, just push him down on the bed and take what’s yours.

- but of course you’re his pillow princess!!

we’ve already established he loves taking care of his girl, so you bet he’s making sure you’re comfy asf while dicking you down. he will purchase silk pillowcases, fluffy pillows, whatever you want. he wants to make sure you’ll be okay as he fucks you doggy style, pushing your head softly down into the bed. he also bought extra sheets for when things get a little too hot and heavy and you need to wash them afterwards. leo’s got it alllll planned out.

- quickies.

in the back of the car, the storage closet, literally anywhere you want, he will hit. you just look so beautiful in your teeny little skirt and pretty little panties, how could he resist? if you can’t fully fuck, he’s willing to sloppily eat you out real quick, his fingers pumping at an ungodly speed as he french kisses your cunt. if you suck him off unexpectedly? he’s done for. exploded. came within a minute. and that’s being generous.

- king of aftercare!!