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cobrakaisb · 3 months

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ballad of a homeschooled girl

summary: a new arrival at camp half-blood is anything but extraordinary, but your attachment to the broody head counselor and claims of a mother who supposedly has no children cause suspicions to arise

word count: 3.9k

featuring: broody!luke who is somewhat soft for reader, angst, reader seems delulu (but she’s not trust 🤞), mostly primer for my upcoming luke series

series masterlist ||| next part

the air is humid, causing the sheets to stick to your already clammy skin. you shift in the small cot, peeling the bedding off your skin, relaxing when the cool breeze caresses your arms and legs. it’s peaceful, and your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. just as you’re about to cross back into dreamland, a girl’s voice causes your eyes to open.

“she’s waking up! look!” she yells, and you know that she’s pointing at you.

you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows. you look around drowsily, trying to make sense of your surroundings. it’s when you make eye contact with a girl who has light pink hair, that you realize you’re no longer walking down a busy city street, hustling through the crowd. confusion settles in, and you wonder how you ended up in this infirmary, and whatever happened to that crazy lady who was trailing you. you open your mouth, trying to speak, but the girl just shoves a cup with a straw in it towards you.

“drink,” she demands.

you hesitate, uncertainty clear on your face. how can you even trust this girl? she seems to sense your emotions, because her hand rests gently on your forearm, pushing the drink closer to your chapped lips.

“drink,” she repeats, and you nod.

a small sip can’t hurt, you decide, and your lips wrap delicately around the straw. as you drink the liquid, you realize that it tastes like the pina coladas your dad would make with the fresh pineapple from the farmers market over the summer. you smile fondly at the memory, relaxing further into the uncomfortable mattress. you sigh in relief, feeling the throbbing in your head diminish. the tranquility, however, doesn’t last for long because the girl with the pink hair returns.

“i’m anna,” she starts, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “how much do you remember before you got here?” she continues.

“where is here exactly?” you ask, shifting in the bed to put some distance between the two of you.

her eyes widen, and something along the lines of confusion and distrust cross her features. she doesn’t say anything, just spending a few minutes analyzing you. a wave of self-consciousness washes over you; do you really look that distraught?

“you have no idea what you are, what we are,” she mumbles. there’s both amazement and sympathy in her voice.

“i’m a girl, if that’s what you’re asking,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

she laughs at you. “you’re in for a rude awakening,” anna replies between giggles.

the next day, you're walking out of the infirmary with strict instructions to go see chiron. you have no idea who this guy is, but all the med staff assure you that you’ll know when you see him. it’s only when you come face to face with a half-horse, half-human -- a centaur -- that you understand exactly what they meant. he smiles at you, and you assume that he’s trying to be comforting, but you still feel so uneasy.

“come. we have a lot to discuss,” he says, resting a firm hand on your shoulder as he leads you towards another room in the old victorian house.

you nod, walking along the veranda towards an open-aired room. the walk feels like a thousand years, as other campers point and whisper in your direction. you want to shrink in on yourself, but you don’t. miraculously, this air of confidence envelops you, and you march into the room with steady and sure strides. the other person in the room looks at you and chiron. he’s older, adorning black sunglasses and holding a diet coke. he rolls his eyes at the sight of you, getting up from his adirondack chair, grumbling about how much he hates kids and wishes he could have a drink. you raise your eyebrows, looking to chiron for an explanation, but he just shakes his head.

“sit, then we’ll talk,” he promises, gesturing to one of the empty seats.

once you’re both seated, it’s quiet. you don’t really have anything to say to the older man in front of you. you’re still confused by anna, and all the cryptic comments she made these past two days. you have no memory of how you got here, or why. nothing makes sense to you.

chiron seems to know that though, as he says, “i understand this can all be very confusing. so let’s start with the basics. you’re at camp half-blood, a safe haven for demi-gods. for people like you.”

he pauses for a moment, probably expecting you to say something, but you don’t. instead, you turn to the left, staring out to the water. it’s so serene, completely contrasting your inner turmoil. when chiron realizes you don’t have anything to say, he continues on:

“here you’ll prepare for battle, complete quests, make friends, and live your life free of worry. at the end of the summer, you’ll have the option of returning home, or remaining as a year-round camper. for now though, i’ll have one of our older, more experienced demi-gods give you a tour. unless of course, there’s something else you’d like to discuss?”

the way he’s looking at you suggests that you should have more to say -- some deep dark secret waiting to be revealed -- but you don’t. he waits, but once you don’t acknowledge his words, he sighs, rising from his seat. you follow, moving towards the door with him. as you hand grasps the handle, it tumbles open, and your body moves forward. thankfully, you don’t crash to your feet, or collide with the person in the doorway, but your cheeks flame in embarrassment.

when you look up, you’re surprised to see a boy. he looks to be about your age with his tall stature and muscular frame. his face is blank, almost bored looking, except for the hints of anger and annoyance in his brown eyes. his jaw is firm and locked, as he crosses his arms and gives you a once over. he hates me already, you think, and while you wish you didn’t care, it stings just a bit.

“this is luke, our head counselor. he’ll show you around camp, and help you settle into the hermes cabin, your temporary home,” chiron explains.

you nod towards luke, but don’t comment on anything chiron says. without another word, he turns on his heel and marches down the steps of the front porch. his pace is brisk, and his long strides make it hard for you to catch up with him, but you manage. once you’re walking side by side with him, it’s quiet between the two of you. he doesn’t point out any of the details, and his speed makes it hard for you to actually absorb anything.

“if you’re gonna walk so fast, the least you could do is explain what everything is,” you snap, annoyed.

he stops walking all together, huffs, and turns to face you. in the bright light of the sun, you notice his scar. it’s pale white and risen above the skin, alerting you that it’s still fairly new, and runs from the corner of his eye to his jawline. he should look scary or intimidating, but you only think that he looks angelic. you gasp softly at the realization, lips parting. his eyes dart down to your mouth, and there’s something almost sinister in his gaze when he finally starts talking.

“archery range, lava wall, and training arena,” he grumbles, pointing out all the spots closest to you.

instead of looking at all the places, your gaze is still focused on him. he rolls his eyes, facing forward and continuing on his walk.

“if you’re going to ask me to point stuff out, at least pay attention when i do,” he snaps.

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes as you follow him towards a horseshoe of cabins. each one is different and seems to represent their own thing. as you’re walking past the center, you notice that there are two lone cabins in the middle. you freeze. your head tilts as you observe the cabin on the right. you feel a strange pull towards it, and start following the invisible string tying you to the building.

“what are you doing?” luke asks, and from his tone you know his arms are crossed.

“i need to go there,” you explain, looking over your shoulder at him.

“the hera cabin?” he questions, following you.

you nod, continuing on your path towards the cabin. you climb up the stairs, and tentatively touch the door handle. it creaks open, daring you to come inside. you turn back to luke, who’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs with an uncertain look in his eyes.

“i have to go in here, but i have no idea why,” you explain, feeling something close to bashful.

he nods, swallowing an imaginary liquid, before climbing up the stairs after you. he waits patiently behind you, his left shoulder grazing your right as the two of you stand on the porch. you want to go inside, need to go inside, but the rational side of you is preventing you from doing so. it all feels like a trap.

luke, noticing your unease, mumbles, “there’s a barrier. nothing can hurt you here, not like they could out there.”

he doesn’t clarify what the other there and in here are, but you know exactly what he means. the creepy, often imaginative figures you’d see out in the city aren’t present here. you haven’t felt their presence since you woke up in that tiny bed in the infirmary. whatever is drawing you to this cabin, is something else, a higher being. before you can continue to deliberate, you push open the door and step inside.

it doesn’t look much like a cabin, rather a temple. the entire thing is made of marble, complete with large columns from floor to ceiling. on the walls, there are several engravings, and when you look closely, you recognize them as peacocks. your fingers trace over the intricate design, and your sense of anxiety quells tremendously. when you look towards the center, at the giant statue, you feel somewhat relieved.

“this is my cabin,” you announce. the statement shocks both you and luke.

“what? no it’s not. hera doesn’t have kids, that’s zeus’s job,” luke says.

“c’mon, time to go,” he continues, grabbing your shoulder and trying to push you out the door.

you dig your heels into the floor, refusing to move. you know everything you’ve said so far sounds crazy, is crazy, but you have to be here. you try to come up with an explanation, anything to make sense of the situation, but remain empty handed.

“you’re right. let’s just go. sorry,” you reply, letting him lead you back out the door and down the stairs.

it isn’t until you step foot in the hermes cabin, his cabin, that you realize your duffle bag is missing. all the other kids, which is a surprisingly large number, have various personal belongings scattered around their sleeping area. some of them have comic books, others have small trinkets, and a couple even dare to show off their stuffed animals. luke walks further into the cabin, the crowd parting like the red sea. they’re quiet, and watch eagerly as he opens a closet door and pulls out a well-loved sleeping bag. the whispers don’t start until he waves you over, and places the item directly next to his bed.

“you sleep here,” he mumbles, pointing to the spot on the floor.

“what? i told you about the other cabin,” you shout, frustration present in your voice.

the hermes cabin is quiet, all of them listen in on your conversation with their head counselor, their older brother.

“and i told you to drop it,” he replies, and there’s a subtle warning in his voice. you can’t decide if he’s trying to say this isn’t the time or place or if he’s insinuating that you’re fucking crazy and he wants nothing to do with it.

“where’s your stuff?” he asks, completely changing the subject.

you notice he does that a lot, but answer, “i don’t know. my duffle’s missing.”

his eyebrows furrow at your words, and he crosses his arms again. he throws his head back, gritting his teeth.

“alright! who took her stuff? cough it up, let's go!” he shouts.

luke’s met with silence, which irks him even more. he turns away from you, facing the swarm of pre-teens and teens. he flashes them his most unamused look, one he’s been carrying with you all day, but continues to wait patiently.

“somebody better own up to it, or i’m taking away dessert privileges,” he announces.

the room immediately grows noisy with everyone whispering to each other. some kids are trying to determine who it could be, while others are fully putting the blame on their siblings. there’s even one girl who whispers about how luke never does this for anyone, so you must be special.

you try to come up with an answer to luke’s question. who took your bag? but you can’t seem to figure it out. you know you had it with you when you left your dad’s house, but then things turned messy extremely fast. you remember the strap when that weird dog thing followed you into the alley, and how you grabbed it by the handles to shove it in the overhead compartment of the amtrak. but after that, everything gets kind of blurry; days melting into one. finally, you decide that it must not have made it to camp.

you tap luke’s bicep, and he turns away from the crowd to meet your eyes. “i don’t even think it made it here,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip.

luke sucks in a breath, nodding his head before turning back to the crowd. “never mind guys, as you were,” he dismisses.

you crouch down, hoping to set up your sleeping bag and take a nap, but he stops you with a hand on your arm. he gestures for you to follow him with a tilt of his head, and you agree. he leads you towards the back of the cabin, outside a supposedly hidden door. when you step out into the bright sunlight, you stop and let your hand cover your eyes, but luke is already walking towards a forest. you follow, easily catching up since he’s walking slower, and match his strides. once the two of you are far enough into the woods, out of the earshot of nosey campers, he sits down in the grass, beckoning for you to follow.

“tell me everything you remember,” he says, a serious look on his face.

you look down, fingers twiddling with the strands of grass. you pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your right arm around your kneecaps as you continue to braid the grass with your left hand. from your observations, you know luke is anything but patient, but he doesn’t push you to say anything. he just sits there, palms splayed on the grass as he leans back on them, looking at the fluffy white clouds and clear blue sky.

“i don’t know how i got here. i keep replaying everything in my head, but i wasn’t even near the woods. then, i was just here,” you whisper, finally looking towards him.

you find that he’s already looking at you. intense brown eyes meeting your lost and confused gaze. he nods his head, signaling that he’s trying to process your words; looking for a meaning in the code, one that even you can’t decipher.

“why’d you leave?” he asks, and you stop fiddling with the grass. “your house i mean…why leave?” he continues.

he’s looking down at his bright red converse, and there’s a certain vulnerability in his gaze that you’re all too familiar with. you raise your eyebrows at his expression, thinking about what his question reveals about him. maybe he doesn’t have a family. and that thought just makes you sad, so you decide to answer him honestly.

“i love my dad, but there were too many odd things happening, things he couldn’t explain, and stuff my therapist didn't believe. there were winged horses, their manes the color of the pitch black night. or dogs the size of a dumpster, and then that brunette lady who follows me around everywhere. i just wanted to keep him safe, so i left,” you explain, meeting luke’s eyes for the second time.

“i get that, wanting to protect your family, i mean. i’d do the same for my sisters,” he replies.

you hum in acknowledgment, leaning back on your elbows and extending your legs in a straight position. you tilt your head back, enjoying the warm sun on your exposed neck, and the soft rustle of the flora around you. you turn your head, eyes squinting to look at luke, and your gaze is immediately drawn to the scar on the left side of his face.

“what happened to you?” you ask, tentatively.

luke sucks in a breath of air. his jaw clenches and anger swarms around in his already dark eyes. his hands ball into fists at his sides, and you realize that maybe that was too personal of a question.

“you don’t have to answer,” you backtrack, “it just seems like a story worth telling.”

he laughs bitterly, “it’s not. my dad sent me on a fucking joke of a quest, and this was the result. all pain, no glory.”

you frown at his words. you don’t want to pity luke, because you know that luke doesn’t want that from you. he wants people to understand him; to listen to his feelings of resentment and disappointment, and despite only knowing him for an hour max, you decide that you’d do that for him.

“don’t beat yourself up about it. the gods are stupid anyway, my mother’s cabin doesn’t even have a bed for me to sleep in,” you say.

there you go again with the mother thing.

“your mother can’t be hera,” luke announces, finality in his tone.

“i know that. but i know that she is. she’s the one that’s been helping me; the one who brought me here,” you explain, finally making the connection.

luke shakes his head in disbelief, “i think you’re going crazy from lack of food.”

you open your mouth, ready to protest his accusations, but luke cuts you off with a fierce look and wave of his hand. he stands up from the grass, holding his hand out to you. you huff, but wrap your hand around his, as he helps life you off the ground and to your feet. once you’re on your feet, you go to remove your hand from his, but you find yourself face to face. he’s already looking at you with a mix of admiration and curiosity. no one’s ever looked at you that way, and you can’t fathom why he is.

“what? is there dirt on my face?” you ask, pulling hand from his to wipe at your chin.

he laughs, loud and joyous, then answers, “no. you’re just different.”

you huff, again, and cross your arms defensively. “my therapist says i’m just unique,” you say.

luke laughs again. his shoulders shake and he has to stop walking to gain his composure. you wait the few minutes it takes for him to collect himself, and feel the smile taking over your features. there’s something enchanting about his laugh, you think, and that thought scares you. you shouldn’t be getting this attached. not yet.

“can we go to lunch, please? i’m so hungry,” you complain, breaking the aura of radiance and joy.

the sound of your voice sobers luke up, and he nods in agreement. he doesn’t even acknowledge you any further, just walks through the path in the woods, towards the center of camp. his strides are back to being quick and long, and you struggle to keep up with him. but you chose to ignore it; you shut him out.

the walk back feels infinitely longer, and you’re relieved to see the dining pavilion. it’s a large mess hall, with picnic tables inside the building as opposed to out. each one of them holds various campers, and you notice how there is a giant fire pit burning in the middle of the room. it seems counter intuitive; no need for the warmth of the fire in the stifling summer heat, which becomes more apparent now that luke’s cold nature is back.

you chance a look at said boy, and find that he’s already watching you. without saying a word, his hand comes to rest at the small of your back; palm splayed on the region between your jean shorts and the hem of your bright orange camp shirt. he gently pushes you forward, and you comply, following his lead. as you walk, you hear the campers whispering. they’re not subtle.

“that’s the new girl.”

“anna says she’s crazy, has no clue what a demigod even is.”

“i heard she’s not even a real demigod, just someone to bewitch luke.”

“oh he’s bewitched alright.”

you clench your jaw at their words, an angry fire in your eyes. you hate when people talk about you behind your back, and you’re not afraid to let these thirteen year olds know that. you whip your head around, so fast you’re surprised you don’t whiplash. as your mouth opens, ready to spew out insults, luke pushes you forward and away from the culprits. your anger only shifts from them to him.

“what’s your problem?” you demand, stopping in your tracks to face him head on.

“i’m not the one with the problem here,” luke mumbles.

for some reason, that statement hurts you more than it should. you laugh bitterly, blinking back the tears that are threatening to come out. it’s been a day and everyone already hates me.

“right, i get it,” you reply, stepping away from him when he tries to reach out for you.

“no that’s not what i meant,” luke says, desperation in his voice.

“fuck this. i don’t even want to be here anyways,” you announce.

before he can say or do anything, you’re out the door.

you wander through the camp grounds, fighting off tears. there’s no reason for you to be acting like this; people have always hated you, so why would camp half-blood be different? because it was supposed to be different, you thought. the path you meant to take, back to the hermes cabin, veers off course until you’re standing in front of the hera cabin. you don’t hesitate this time, to climb the steps and take refuge inside.

once the door closes, and the lock clicks, you come face to face with the looming statue. her eyes pierce your soul, and you sink back in on yourself. it’s a statue, you remind yourself, and that boosts your confidence somehow. you look her in the eyes, and swear her gaze meets yours.

“why would you bring me here?” you ask, voice wobbly from the tears.

“i hate it here! and i hate you!” you shout, stomping your foot like a child. you feel like a child.

you sink down to your knees, forehead coming to rest on the ruffle of her toga. the marble is cool and smooth against your hot skin. the temperature change grounds you, and slowly, your tears subside.

you decide, in that very moment, that these people won’t see you cry. ever.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan angst #luke castellan pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #cobrakaisb writing #all american bitch series

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lovebugism · 6 months

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"s'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt" "you jsut can't cook" + eddie munson for blurbcember ❄️

ty for requesting! :D — you freeze your ass off to spend some time alone with eddie; he learns you love him more than s'mores (established relationships, fluff, 1.6k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You and Eddie sit stranded in Steve’s backyard, the only ones brave enough to weather the late-night cold.

The bursting bonfire died down to a couple of sparkling orange embers, and the party followed accordingly. While your friends sought shelter in the warm living room, unfreezing their fingers around cups of hot cocoa, you and Eddie remained outside in the navy blue winter — too stubborn to tread behind them.

“But wait— we haven’t made s’mores yet!” you’d whined. The shivering bodies of your friends rushed by you and into the heated house, anyway. Eddie was the only one to stay with you after the fact. ‘Cause his girl was gonna get her s’mores even if it was the last thing he ever did.

He makes the first one perfectly. Mostly because that one was for you.

You sit patiently in the slanted wooden chair, knees up to your chest, drowning in the thick leather jacket Eddie gave you for warmth. It smells just like him — like pine and childhood. It keeps you as warm as the smoky marshmallow on your tongue.

The melted sugar gets caught in your teeth, along with the chewed-up graham cracker and gooey milk chocolate. You smile with it all anyway when Eddie’s second batch doesn’t turn out nearly as good as his first.

“Eds, that’s burnt!” you laugh with your mouth still full as he smacks a blackened marshmallow between two square cookies.

In several layers of dark flannel, the boy shrugs lazily. He plops onto the adirondack beside yours and shoots you a lopsided smile, tinted pink and softly chapped. His skin, made more pale by the dark and wintery night, rivals that of the shining full moon. It makes his flushed cheeks that much more rosy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about— s’mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt.”

He takes a too big bite to make a point. You grimace at the crunch of the over-cooked confection, then smile when the melted sugar sticks to Eddie’s chin. “No, you just can’t cook,” you retort with a lovesick grin.

“But I’m right!” he insists, black crumbs sticking to the corners of his mouth.

He’s too hardheaded, and you’re too in love with him to argue about it any further. You just smile and shake your head, so full of adoration you’re sparkling with it. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, features warm and visibly fond.

He grins wide, never minding the food caught in his teeth. “I know.”

“Should we make everyone else one?” you wonder, nose scrunched as you spare a look over your shoulder.

Through the sliding glass door, you can see into the golden-lit living room. Everyone’s lazing under blankets, crammed onto couches or lounging on the floor. You can’t tell if they’re sleeping or not. You feel the need to take care of them anyway.

Eddie scoffs with his mouth still full. “Hell no! Those cowards chickened out on us,” he answers bitterly, then in a deeper and posher accent, continues. “Only the bravest of warriors can be rewarded with such fine delicacies.”

“Getting hypothermia makes us ‘the bravest of warriors’?”

“You’re the one who wanted to stay out here!”

“I did,” you argue with a laugh. “But not for the stupid s’mores.”

He gets cartoonishly confused. His bushy brows furrow and his winter-kissed features swirl together. If you weren’t weathering the winter for his obviously unmatched cheffing skills, then what exactly were you out here for?

“Then… for what?” he wonders slowly and with his dark eyes squinted.

You roll your eyes at your oblivious boy. A smile hints at the corners of your mouth. “Eddie…” you murmur, hoping your sudden sheepishness might give him some sort of hint. Telling him, ‘I’m out here in the freezing cold because being next to you makes me feel warm’ is far too sweet and not at all on brand for either of you.

“What?” he says with a faint laugh, still visibly clueless.

“I stayed out here because of you, you idiot,” you confess, giggling softly when it makes his doe eyes get all squishy around the edges.

“Oh,” he hums, then grins all wide and giddy. “Sweet.”

It’s too easy to forget how much you like him sometimes. Mostly because he doesn’t feel very deserving of you at all. He just takes all the sweet moments alone with you that he can get, then tries not to explode every time you remind him that you love him back.

“I am starting to get cold, though,” you murmur, jaw tense to keep your teeth from chattering.

A crisp breeze rolls by and shoves its teeth into every inch of exposed skin it can bite. Your cheeks and lips have long gone numb with it. You can only wrap Eddie’s jacket around you so much before it stops helping.

“Well, I know something that’ll warm us up…” the boy beside you croons with an audible smirk.

Your face scrunches at the implication. “Eddie…” you grouse.

“Get your head out of the gutter— I’m talking about booze.”

You squint at him. He reaches between his many layers and pulls out something from the inner pocket. It glimmers beneath the moonlight for a moment until you realize what it is — a glass, small and polygonal, half-filled with amber liquid.

“I picked the lock to Steve’s dad’s liquor cabinet,” he confesses, twinkling with boyish excitement. “This looked the fanciest, so…”

At a loss for words, you shake your head. “You’re insane,” you tell him, even though your smile says that you’re in love with him and all his crazy.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,” he quips and unscrews the glass cap. He sniffs the liquid inside, then takes a sip without fear. He winces at the taste.

“Is it good?” you ask, hiding your laugh behind your palm.

“It’s great—” His answer comes wedged between coughs.

When he passes the small glass off to you, you take your own baby sip of the alcohol, with much more hesitation than the boy beside you. The bitter taste coats your tongue and stings going down. The burn makes you cough. Your chest blooms with warmth.

Eddie’s brows raise expectantly. His lip quirks at the edges. “Good?”

“It tastes like rubbing alcohol,” you grimace and hand the thing back to him.

“That’s how you know it’s good!” he insists. He takes another sip and doesn’t flinch this time around. “Like— this is the shit rich people spend hundreds of dollars on just to pretend it tastes good.”

“Being rich must suck,” you observe with your face screwed up.

“Oh, totally,” the boy scoffs. He goes to take a swig, then sends you a worried glance with the glass up to his lips. “Are you warm yet, at least?”

“Not really… My throat just kinda burns.”

“C’mere. Before you end up like that psycho from The Shining.”

Eddie slouches softly in his seat and holds his arms out beside him. The invitation is a hard one to turn down. Hair wild, cheeks rosy, and dressed all snug — he looks so visibly warm. You want to curl into his chest like a cat and stay there forever.

“You want me to sit in your lap?” you wonder with your brows pinched.

He nods.

“Eddie. I’ll crush you.”

His features swirl with hurt. “I’m offended that you’re doubting my strength right now, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“Get over here before I cause a scene.”

There’s not much of a scene to cause. Both of you know this. You rise on rigid, frozen limbs anyway and walk the short distance to him.

His palms are oddly warm as they curl around your hips. You sit hesitantly on his lap at first, as tense as a rock, until he pulls you down completely. His arms settle around your waist like they were always meant to be there, hands fitting with you like a puzzle piece. It doesn’t take long for you to melt against him.

Eddie grins at the comforting weight of you. “See? This isn’t so bad, right?”

You try to bite back the beam tugging at your lips. This kind of love makes you feel like a teenager again — heart singing like it’s never been stung before.

“I mean, yeah, but Steve and Robin are watching us through the blinds,” you tell him as a laugh sputters from your lips.

You can tell they’re trying to be discreet, but their eyes showing through the slats — at two varying heights — are a dead giveaway. It took the two of them ages to get you and Eddie together, so you’re not entirely surprised by their snooping. They’re nothing if not your biggest cheerleaders. Even if it does make them a couple of creeps sometimes.

Eddie doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder at them. He just tilts his chin up at you and smiles with all his teeth. “Wanna give ‘em a show?”

You smile. Then press your tingling lips to the cold skin of his rosy cheek.

You know that isn’t exactly what he was asking for, so his plea for another doesn’t surprise you.

“One more?” he wonders quietly, chocolate eyes glimmering with boyish hope.

Happily, you lean in for another peck to his cheek. He turns his head at the very last second and smacks a proper kiss to your mouth.

You pull back, face agape with shock, like he’s never kissed you before. “Eddie!” you gasp.

His doe eyes sparkle with feigned innocence. “What?”

“You’re incorrigible,” you insist and settle further into him.

His contented sigh brushes your temple when you rest your head against him. His ringed fingers give your sides a squeeze. “That’s a real big word, sweetheart. Means you like me, right?”

You let yourself smile wide. He can’t see how lovesick you are from this angle, or else he’d know that you do a whole lot more than just like him. “Yeah, Eds. That’s exactly what it means.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

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stickofcha0s · 11 months

Text

‘Walk in’ Doug Remer x Reader

Doug Remer x afab reader

A/N: I don’t ever post stuff like this so idk if it’s even good. I wrote this over a few days and didn’t really do a read through so it might be messy If u want a more explicit pt2 lmk bc I have ideas.

word count: 2209

warnings: slight smut?? Reader Slapping Doug. Slight Perv Remer. I think that’s it. I’m not too sure how to tag these things yet so sorry if I’m missing something.

summary: Doug Remer walks in on you changing after a long day at work

~~~~~~~~~~

You had been roommates with Doug Remer and Joe Cooper for a while now. They were the only two idiot stupid enough to offer you the lowest rent in the city. With a price of course.

You had been hanging out with the boys after a game sitting on the porch out back drinking beer and talking about how you had just been unfairly evicted.

~~FLASHBACK~~

“I’ll let you stay for only 400 a month.” Remer had offered kicking his legs up in the Adirondack chair.

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious!?” You asked sitting up, clutching the neck of your beer tightly in your hand.

He snorted taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah on one condition- if you let me and Coop see your tits” he smirked from behind the bottle.

You scowled at him. Remer had been trying to get you to flash them for a while now. He had some weird thing for boobs. He was a creep- not in a weird way though. You had basically grown up with him so you guys bickered about this stuff back and forth. And I mean, No one else was gonna offer you a deal like this, and it’s not like they’d be the only guys who’d have seen them.

You sighed standing up.

Coop looked up at you “he- what are you doing?” He asked leaning forward in his chair.

“Getting my $400 a month for rent you shrugged.

Remers mouth dropped open as you started to lift your shirt.

“No fucking- ahw my god.” He groaned sinking back into his chair, his eyes fixated on you as you flashed them.

“Take a good look, this is the last time you’re gonna see them” you stated coldly.

Remer sat back in his chair sucking his teeth, his hazel eyes burning holes into your chest.

You dropped your shirt. “Happy?” You asked annoyed.

Coop sat wide eyed looking between you and remer unable to speak.

“Mi casa es su casa” Remer chuckled softly outstretching his arms.

~~END FLASHBACK A YEAR LATER~|

You had just gotten home from work. You hated the long hours you were scheduled, you felt like you weren’t getting paid enough.

The job caused your whole body to ache. Your body was tense and you had a bunch of anger pent up from dealing with stupid customers all day.

You stripped yourself out of the faded black jeans replacing them with comfortable fleece shorts. You reached for your top pulling it over your head searching your drawers for some over sized t-shirt.

“Hey (y/n) I don’t see any pizza bites left in the-“

The door swung open as Remer entered the room not bothering to knock.

“Doug!” You cried going to cover your torso with a sheet. You had a bra on but you still felt uncomfortable with him seeing you exposed like this.

His eyes widened and he put his hands up in defense. “Woah woah calm down. I’ve seen chicks boobs before, no biggie”

He stood there, door wide open behind him like this was normal. You rolled your eyes at him. “Doug, get out” you pointed towards the door.

“Hey I’m just sayin’” he let his eyes wander down your body, drinking in the sight before him. You took a book from the night stand throwing it at him. He dodged it, a shit eating grin making its way on his face.

“Fine whatever I’ll leave” he said with attitude. “I was just gonna ask if you bought pizza bites while at the store”

You scoffed. “Remer it wasn’t my turn to go to the store today”

Remer shut the door behind him mumbling something about what he was supposed to eat if no one went to the store. You sighed pulling a shirt over your head.

You headed for the kitchen a little while later deciding you would see if you could find anything to satisfy the pains in your stomach. Doug was on the couch watching tv. You were surprised he didn’t have cable porn pulled up, beating himself in the middle of the living room.

You dug through the panty finding pasta and sauce. You put a pot on the stove to boil.

“Can I have it?” A voice asked from behind you.

Your turned around to see Doug leaning against the counter.

“Have what?” You asked annoyed stirring the water as an encouragement to boil faster.

“You know.” He shrugged.

“No Doug. I don’t know actually” you turned away from him. You heard his feet against the tile as he moved closer.

He leaned against the counter next to you, stupid gap toothed smile plastered across his face.

“Your bra” he grinned.

“Doug, shut up” you said giving him the shoulder.

“Is that a no?” He asked. You turned from the pot, your mouth open.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Well you’re wearing one of my teams jerseys it’s only fair I have something of yours” He protested.

You didn’t say anything turning away again.

He leaned down whispering in your ear. “Please?”

You had no idea what he wanted it for but it was probably for some perverted personal fantasy of his.

“It doesn’t have to be the one your wearing” he tried to compromise.

“Remer, I’m gonna hit you if you don’t back up” you warned not making eye contact.

You could feel the smirk playing on his lips without him uttering a word.

“Cmon, I know you’ve got a ton of them that drawer” he purred

“Doug.” You warned.

“what about that green one…or the lacy black one that has the matching panti-“

Before you could think your hand had swept across his face slapping him.

“Son of a bitch- did you go through my drawer?!” You yelled demanding an answer. You felt bad but from after the long day you’d had you were bound to have had snapped at some point.

He was holding his jaw looking offended. “Ouch” he mumbled rubbing his jaw. “Y’know you should join the team, you’ve got quite the arm.”

You were infuriated with him. Of course he would go through your drawers like that. Him and Coop had quite the reputation or stealing panties from house parties they went to, keeping them like trophies. Almost never were they actually taken from off the girls themselves. Why would you an an exception.

“Fuck you, fucking freak” you murmured from under your breath.

“Look, I’m sorry” Remer came up behind you, his chest grazing against your shoulders and back.

“The drawer was halfway open and I just couldn’t help myself” he mumbled.

The pot was boiling as you added the noodles to the mix not saying anything to the curly haired boy.

He hugged you from behind leaning down to whisper in your ear. “ ‘m really sorry. I promise it was a one time thing” he mumbled into your ear.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Want some spaghetti?” You asked him disregarding his apologies.

“Please..” he mumbled again hands tightening around your waist.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his touch. You were used to Remer being touchy like this, the occasional hug, kiss on the forehead, or cuddling on the couch to watch a movie. And that accidental drunk hookup a few years ago..

“You smell good..” he said into your shoulder.

You scoffed. “I smell like work”

He stayed there with his head forced into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry for asking that, I just let my imagination get the best of me..”

You hummed in response still a little annoyed but you felt bad for hitting him, you had reacted without thinking

“Lemme make it up to you” he said muffled by your skin. “Stop the stove and I’ll give you a massage, I can feel how tense you are.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right. You didn’t want to be a dick to coop when he came home too. Plus with his huge hands, he gave the best massages. You turned the dial, moving the pot off the stove.

“Go lay on my bed, you can take your shirt off, I’ll wait” he told you.

You obeyed his orders going to his room and pressing your bare chest to the sheets. While you waited you looked around. His room was messy. It was always cluttered. Knickknacks covered the shelves and there was dirty laundry on the floor.

Remer came in a few moments later with a bottle of lotion.

“MmKay just relax” he said squirting some into his hands.

You pressed your face into the mattress as his hands got to work. It felt so good. Remer was so good at finding all the tense knots and working them out.

“Mmm” you hummed into the mattress.

“Feel good?” He asked his hands gliding over your skin.

You nodded and he chuckled in response.

You let out a soft moan as he worked out a knot in your upper shoulder.

“Doug, how’re you so good at this” you sighed into the sheets.

You could feel his hot breath on your ear as he leaned down. “I’m just good with my hands” you could sense his grin even though you couldn’t see his face.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm, but you wanna know what I’m even better with?” He asked his hot breath in your ear.

“What’s that” you turned your head to the side to look at him. There was that gapped tooth grin.

“My mouth”

You grinned a little shaking your head.

“Wanna see?”

Your body stiffened a little as your heart started to pick up its pace. Last time something intimate happened like this between you two you were both shit faced drunk. Without alcohol in your system your heart beat rapidly against your rib cage like it was trying to break out.

He lowered his lips to your shoulder and started leaving hot open mouthed kisses on your skin.

“Doug” you started to protest.

He ghosted his lips against your shoulder until he reached your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin.

You shivered at the feeling, nipples starting to harden.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” He hummed against your skin.

You didn’t respond, trying to focus on something other than his mouth exploring your body.

He took that as an invitation to keep going. Open mouthed kisses soon turned into sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. You lifted your neck and in the process causing your sensitive buds to rub against the rough sheets.

You let out a soft whine trying to muffle it with the mattress.

He tsked “don’t be embarrassed now”

His attacks against your neck became harsher and before you knew it you were turning around to face him.

He looked down at your bare chest “well hello there” he smirked.

“Doug..” you weren’t sure if it was a rebuff or a plead for more.

He gave you a goofy grin before wrapping his arms around your lower back pulling you closer as he attacked your neck again.

You tilted your head back giving him more room to work with. He trailed hot kisses down your collar bones, occasionally lingering to suck deep purple marks into your skin, until he reached your chest. When he got to your breasts he took a nipple in his mouth sucking softly.

Your hand shot up to tangle itself in his mess of curls as he started to roll the bud between his tongue.

“Doug..” your breath hitched as you tugged softly.

He hummed against the skin, the feeling going straight to your core.

You used your hand in his hair to guide his mouth around your breast. The coolness of his glasses pressing into your chest as you pushed his face further in.

“God..” you breathed out softly.

He let his teeth graze over or causing you to whine.

He lifted his head coming up to meet your eyes.

“I told you I’m good with my mouth” he said leaning in closer.

“Y-you’re not bad” you responded trying to blow the situation off.

“I could show you more if you want, that was just the beginning.” he offered a smirk on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm” he nodded his curls bouncing as he glanced down at your lips.

You leaned forward going to meet his.

“You couldn’t begin to fathom the kind of pleasure my mouth brings” You could feel his hot Breath on your face as he spoke, his eyes half lidded.

“Who’s making pasta?” A voice called from the other room.

You jumped back from Remer, and rushed to grab your shirt.

“Shit Coops home” you stood up shrugging your shirt on, completely forgetting about your bra lying on Remers messy floor.

“Awe c’monnnn” Remer groaned throwing his head back.

“Remer I’m not letting Joe catch us, the last thing I wanna do is make him uncomfortable.” you said heading for the door.

“God well leaving me like this is uncomfortable..Fucking cockblock” he muttered under his breath.

He watched you leave the room as he cursed to himself tucking himself in his waistband going out to join you and Coop.

He took a mental note to flush the toilet the next time Joe was taking a shower.

——————

Pt. 2 here

#doug remer #joe cooper #doug remer x reader #baseketball #matt stone

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