#Travis (Gossip) x Reader fluff

[dix0nvix3n]

Start a chat with Travis (Gossip) on Chai! https://chai.ml/chat/share/_bot_1d843850-a19c-4121-87a1-738860ba93a3

Uh... So I'm completely in love with Travis so I made a bot for him on Chai. I may add him on Character AI too but I don't use that one as much cause it doesn't allow NSFW. Also I guess this is news I'm gonna add Travis to the list of characters I can write for now! Also don't worry, I completely wrote out Derrick for obvious reasons. (If you haven't watched the movie then watch it.) Also sorry for using Daryl tags, I've only ever seen one fic of him so he basically has no tags whatsoever.

[abibliophobiaa]

firstly I love your new blog layout it’s so fucking cute, secondly I love you 💕 thirdly, for your baby prompts, I’m thinking……… butterfly

happiness is a butterfly

got a little carried away with this one. 3k words of modern day!best friend!eddie munson x afab!reader. contains: fluff, alcohol, confessions of feelings, bisexual reader, two friends in a room who might kiss (they do), suggestive innuendo (eddie’s a sweetheart), and argyle’s matchmaking ways. thank you @breddiemunson and @ghost-proofbaby for always calming my wild thoughts, and katie’s line where eddie asks reader not to make him say what she already knows. genius, that one.

-

“happiness is a butterfly

try to catch it like every night

it escapes from my hands into moonlight…”

happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey.

-

Photo after photo. Swipe after swipe. Endless hopefuls that aren’t really hopefuls, because there aren’t many of those in Hawkins these days.

No—there are merely boys, wearing the skin of men, playing with hearts with a carelessness that leaves damage in their wake. Leaves your heart ripped to shreds; battered and bruised. Wounded, but not broken, with jagged lines where smooth surfaces had once been.

Tonight is no different. Tonight you mourn your relationship with Travis. Travis, who played hockey and apparently a different girl or guy in every state. You’d only found out through social media.

One of the girls he brought back to his hotel room had posted an image on her story while he slept, which then surfaced on another person’s social media account, and then eventually became a social media article on some gossip website you couldn’t, for the life of you, be bothered to remember.

You suppose the “Travis debacle,” as Eddie has been calling it, is your fault. A guy from out of town. The allure of some famous player with a broken down car in front of the Hideout, where you worked as a bartender, that you’d had your friend Eddie fix up as a favor.

You’d tossed him his keys as the sun set, burnt orange and red across the summer sky, and he’d asked, “How much?”

And suddenly you’d spent the week welcoming him around Hawkins, as well as the intricacies of your susceptible heart. Had preened and praised him while he perused his options in the next town over on his problematic apps.

The same apps you’re now frowning at, watching the population around you continue to dwindle with every pass of your thumb.

“You know, they say insanity is—”

“Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

You shoot a glare Eddie’s way, watching his dexterous fingers pull his hair back into a makeshift bun at the back of his head. Those same fingers reach down to grab your glass, chipped black nail polish capturing your attention as he draws your drink up to his lips and takes a long sip.

“Tequila. Travis really fucked up.” He chuckles. The movement has his cropped shirt billowing around his hips, tattoos on his sides visible where the holes his arms extend through as he settles down beside you. “You know, I think you need to ditch the apps. I did, and I’m much better for it.”

“You got a puppy a few weeks ago,” you point out, finger jabbing him in the ribs. He hisses, cupping his pec. “Getting a puppy is code for throwing in the towel.”

“Ozz is the cutest puppy, I’ll have you know. Look—” He waves to Gareth as he passes by, drumsticks twirling in his hands. “Delete the apps. Take a break. Isn’t there some quote about happiness? That Nathaniel Hawthorne one. You know, the ‘happiness is a butterfly’ one you used in a paper back in school.”

“One, I can’t believe you remember that.”

Your nose wrinkles at the thought of your teenage years. Of you with braces and he himself being the first person to welcome you to sit with him on your first day of school, snapping at Jason Carver when he’d brushed by you and thumped your shoulder a little too hard for his liking.

“And two, the quote is actually ‘happiness is like a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp. But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.’”

“So stop chasing it. Just let it happen. C'est la vie. Carpe diem. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”

You don’t even bother letting him know none of those things mean what he thinks they do.

“Eddie.”

He loops his arm around your neck. Presses a kiss against your temple. You lean into his embrace, comfortable warmth that seeps into your bones and floods you with familiarity.

He’s hard lines against your softer edges. Inky tapestries of collected memories that tell a tale of his adventurous life on the forearm tangled in your hair. His ring-clad fingers delight in toying with the tips, hair shifting between digits like water.

Calming and soothing Eddie. A constant in your life since you were teenagers, now going on ten years of friendship later. Someone you’ve always been able to turn to at the end of the day; someone who never once questions your motives, even if he might suggest you try different methods to your lifestyle habits.

And now, your dating habits.

“I’m just saying it’s worth a try.”

-

Maybe you don’t stop right away. Maybe it takes a date with Joe, Jim and Jessica to realize the truth of Eddie’s words. Maybe there’s some weight to pushing it all aside, stepping out of the way of your own preconceived timeline, and allowing someone to walk in at the right place and time.

And on a night such as this, where Corroded Coffin are getting set up on stage and citizens are packing out the bar to see the increasingly popular band play, it’s easy to remember why swiping on your phone has brought you here. To asshole Andy Lerman standing before you while you work. Basketball coach at Hawkins High and douchebag royalty from what you remember of him back in your years of teenage angst and adolescence.

He’s had a few drinks now. You know because you’ve served him. But all they’ve done is instill courage in him to step over to the girl who people teased in school for being a “freak fucker” by merely being associated with Eddie, claiming time ‘really did wonders for you.’

He’s staring at your tits when he says it, and it takes everything in you to not toss his next drink in his face. But in a town where money is hard to come by, and there’s not much to do by way of work, bartending pays the bills, and you’re not about to mess up one of the few good gigs left.

“Andy, it’s really not going to work,” you tell him, “but here. Your last one of the night…on me.”

With a quick pat to his shoulder, you send him on his merry way with a fuller pocket and a story to warp when regaling his friends with the time he pity-invited the “freak fucker” on a date.

“Don’t look now, my lady, but Eddie Munson is staring at you,” Argyle says, working on mixing a margarita beside you for a patron.

“He’s not staring at me,” you retort, sliding a vodka soda across the bar, thanking your customer for the hefty tip they toss your way. At Argyle’s raised brow, you reiterate, “he’s not.”

“He’s always staring. That’s the look Eden gives me. You know, the look of someone in l—”

Argyle’s words are cut short as Eddie appears on the other side of the bar, bare elbows pressing against the counter, hair falling out of his ponytail, bangs long overdue for a cut shifting every time he blinks.

“Are you okay?” He asks, thanking Argyle as he passes him the beer he knows he prefers. At your arching brow, he continues, “I saw Andy Lerman flirting with you. You looked uncomfortable.”

You snort, getting to work on a moscow mule. “That’s because I was uncomfortable. But I took care of it. I appreciate you always looking out, though.”

He reaches over and grabs your chin. Gives your head a little wiggle until you’re grinning against his palm. Then reaches his fingers over toward you, rests them so gently against your curled palm resting on the bar and pauses. He waits a moment and closes his ringed fingers into a fist, knocking his knuckles against yours.

Then he’s off toward the stage to get ready, leaving you with a knot in your throat and warmth prickling against your skin.

Argyle passes you a knowing smile and before you can yell at him to get back to work, embarrassment roiling in your chest, he announces he’s going to take a quick break and call his wife.

His words spin in your head once more. Comparing Eddie’s gazes to Eden’s. To the nature of the depth in which he cares for you. But you shake your head free of it.

You’ve been unlucky in love.

It couldn’t be so simple.

-

Argyle’s words don’t change much in regards to your Eddie conundrum.

They’re a phantom in the back of your mind. Wispy tendrils of a memory that feels distant now.

Weeks pass, and the warm heat of summer in Hawkins turns to a sweltering hell on earth.

The Hideout becomes quieter most evenings. Those with air conditioning prefer to stay home, remain by their pools, to host gatherings where alcohol and coolers are plentiful.

And you don’t blame them, letting out a long huff as you wipe down the counter, while Argyle counts your tips.

“Oh, how was that date with…Paul, was it?” He muses thoughtfully, beginning to split the money.

“Not great.”

“You said that about the last three. What was wrong with this one?”

And that’s the thing. You sit across from these people, trying to force a square into a circle, trying to sparse out the qualities that they’re lacking.

Not funny enough. Not the right hair color. They lack that unruly smile. That glimmer of brightness in their amber eyes. There’s no dimple in Paul’s cheek. No banter on your date with Jeremiah. Caleb doesn’t like metal, and Kayla thinks D&D is a breeding ground for satanism (you’d thought that one was left in the 80s, but it appears not).

“He said Dio was overrated.”

“Interesting,” Argyle laughs, shaking his head.

You whirl around, damp bar towel flicking water his way. “What’s so interesting?”

“Just funny when two people are so obviously similar and don’t even see it,” he says, humming to himself, conversation over.

And that was that.

-

It’s funny, you think, that it only hits you then.

Like the flutter of butterfly wings on your flowerbeds you’d managed to stumble upon earlier that morning, the flicker of wings on a bird in the sky. The soft beating of both, like the constant thump of a heart in a chest.

A constant.

It’s the word everything hitches on as you sit on that work table in your garage, watching the man who stopped everything he was doing when you’d called earlier at the drop of a hat. All just to make sure you were okay.

That same person who is now up to his elbows in grease, fingers stained an oily black. With his hair pulled away from his face, you catch the determined line of his mouth, the jut of his tongue pushing lightly against pink lips. The corded lines of his arms move as he works, barest hint of stomach on display when he reaches up to slam the hood of your car down once it’s finished.

You toss him a towel, grinning at the shadowy form of him blocking the sun from your eyes. “Sorry you’re doing this instead of the movies.”

“Stop that. You know I’m happy to spend any time with you, sweetheart,” he laughs, wiping the planes of his face that are streaked like the fingers pressing against terry cloth to keep it in place. “Fixed the alternator and did an oil change. Seeing as you always forget anyway.”

He walks over slowly, grunting when your sandaled foot kicks him playfully in the kneecap. “That was why my car made that awful sound and shut off?”

“Exactly.” He curls the towel around his neck. “Day is still young. How about we—”

“Why’d you delete all your dating apps?”

The words fall from you in a rush. A swift exhale that has Eddie’s back drawn ramrod straight. Rigid, but not with anger. Instead, you watch that full mouth part just slightly. Like the words he had been about to say were lost to the wind, left to titter away into nothingness.

He swallows audibly, palm sliding over the towel across his neck. “I…just didn’t see the point in them.”

Determination hardens your resolve. Brings to attention Argyle’s teasing these weeks. The wondering, questioning, burgeoning curiosities brimming. So you utter a simple, “Why?” and try your damndest to ignore the nerves welling up in your chest at the fear of what comes next.

“Just kind of felt like I was using them to get over someone else,” he admits, taking a step closer.

Your bare knees brush the tops of his thighs. Warmth seeps into your skin, bristles at his touch.

Dark eyes drag along your form. Along the dress you wore that evening, covered in flowers, a thin thing that would have fluttered in the wind if you and Eddie had been able to do what you’d planned for the day. Simple drive to the lake to eat some lunch, share a joint and fish (a new hobby he'd picked up from his uncle), then movies at the theater when the sun had set.

You meet his stare. Remind yourself of those eyes that had been on you the whole time Andy had leaned over the bar just weeks ago. Ready at any moment to come to your aid, should you have needed it. He’s never pushed you, never crossed the boundaries of your friendship, trusted you knew best.

But he’d always been there if you ever needed a hand.

You only ever needed to reach out.

Always.

You swallow thickly. “Who?”

“Don’t make me tell you what you already know.”

It’s quiet. A plea for pity that has your heart clenching within your chest.

But it’s not scary.

It’s not frightening at all.

Dozens of memories flash behind your eyes.

Of teenage years, laughing in the cafeteria, trading snacks, sneaking off to the woods between classes to smoke. Of you in community college, and his van screeching through the parking lot to take you to lunch between classes. Of nights at his place, your place, the movies, around town. Of ice cream at Lover’s Lake with his van doors swung wide, trying to make out the shapes of the clouds in the sky.

Birthday parties, milestones, weddings, grieved losses.

To highs and lows and everything in between. To all those shitty dates, to his own failed dating escapades. To that time you had to ice his lip in the back of the Hideout when Jeff had accidentally elbowed him in the face, or when you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard and ripped open your shin and he’d had to hold your hand while he disinfected it.

To this very moment, where he’s just finished fixing your car. To him with his dirty palm tapping lightly against your kneecap, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him.

Your head tips up and you catch the downturn of his lips, frozen in time by your prolonged silence.

Argyle was right.

“What?”

You hadn’t realized you spoke out loud, but confusion swirls behind Eddie’s gaze all the same, mollified only when your hand snakes up around the back of his neck and drags him downward to your level. Only when you pour your affection into him where you’re finally, lovingly, connected at last.

The fullness of his mouth against the softness of yours is hesitant at first, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to his current reality, before he’s tipping your head up with his hand. Until his fingers slide across your cheek, cupping you gently, easing you closer to him.

Before long he’s gripping you closer. Deft fingers in the dough of your thighs, tugging you flush against him, skirt indecently high up on your hips. But you don’t care. Not as your ankles lock around his waist, nor as he hums into your throat while he leaves a sloven path along your skin, learning the sounds you make when he’s tender, sweet—when he scores his teeth against your pulse point and you melt like putty beneath his devotion filled fingertips.

Ten years. Ten years of watching that silly butterfly float away into the sky, only for it to have been there all along.

Only for it to have been the man with his forehead against yours, noses flush together, your fingers beneath his shirt and his around the bend of your kneecaps.

You’re not sure where you start and he ends, but even that incites a new thrill, a new world to explore further. A desire to know the depths of him beyond the limit of friendship.

“Argyle got to you too, huh?” At your nod, Eddie barks out a laugh. Kisses you softly. “Fuckin’ guy thinks he’s Cupid or something.”

“I don’t want to talk about Argyle right now.”

Eddie’s lips curl into a grin. The whites of his teeth flash in your gaze, your fingers trailing along his stubble-lined jaw.

“I don’t either.” His thumb comes to swipe at your cheek, dimple in his cheek twitching slightly. “Got you a little greasy. Just…ten years, you know? Got a little carried away.”

You nod, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. He watches as you hop down from the work table, brow arching curiously as you tug him toward the door leading into your home. “Well, like you said, we’ve got ten years to catch up on. So before I kiss you more, Edward Munson, we’re going to shower.”

“We?” He swallows, voice hoarse. “Like a two people conserving water shower?”

You enter the small laundry room, humming as his chest brushes your own, his weight just enough against yours to press you into the lip of your drying machine. Cool metal chills your skin at the open back of your dress, balanced by the heat of the knee that slides between your thighs to pin you in place. Your body both buzzes with life and oozes honey into your system as you melt into him, pliant under that smoldering dark gaze of your best friend in front of you.

“We,” you nod, grinning into his kiss. “After that we’re cuddling on the couch and ordering a pizza.”

“And tomorrow…I’m taking you on a date.”

-

🦋

[rlqfpdl]

Golden Mangos

Aphrodite!Fem!Reader x Travis Stoll

Summary: after a certain incident you can’t help but start liking mangos a bit more, and maybe a certain camper as well.

Contains: fluff, characters can be ooc, usual Stoll sibling antics, some swearing, kind of cringe lines ngl

A/N: I love this small prank the stolls pull on the Aphrodite cabin and it inspired me to write this fic. Hope you guys like it. Reqs are open <3. Also I hate mangos idk what demon possessed to write a character that loves them.

Word Count: 2.5k

If there is one thing your cabin mates knew about you, it is your strong affinity for mangos–or, as Drew likes to call it ‘an extreme obsession’. Another fact was that, for some odd reason, camp didn't have mangos. Well not least you bribed a Dementer kid to grow some or got a Hermes child to bring you one from the outside. Sometimes, you would even go back home during winter break just to be able to enjoy some sweet mangos, even if they weren’t in season. Your dad always spoiled you rotten with everything, from actual mangos to mango lip gloss. So, it came to your sibling's surprise that there you were eating half a mango for breakfast. Lost in your world without a care for the burning eyes watching you. 

“How exactly did you get that?” asked Piper, munching on  her bowl of strawberries, “One of the boys from cabin 4” You replied oh so casually.

 “Y/N, you can't just use your charmspeak casually,” complained Mitchell. Unlike Piper and Drew, you tended to use your charmspeak for more trivial things. If your mother gave you a gift, it was to be used, and maybe you did use it for small things like getting out of archery or another serving of strawberry shortcake. Maybe it wasn't the best use of such power, but it came in handy, overall being blessed with beauty had its perks. 

“It's fine I was just craving some. Plus the Hermes kids haven't made their trip yet, so something had to be done,” you said, cleaning off the dripping juice. It might have been the best mango you have eaten if it weren't for your siblings shooting daggers at you. “Well, at least I'm not using my charmspeak to manipulate a cabin,” you continued. 

“It's been months, let it go, please,” said Drew, now getting slightly annoyed by you. But who could blame you? You were slightly annoyed at this conversation yourself. Couldn't a girl enjoy her mango in peace?

“Anyways we have archery practice, so don't charmspeak your way out,” said Piper, looking directly at you.

“Hey, it was like three times, I was tired,” you defended yourself, putting your hands up. Despite the occasional squabbles, you did love all your siblings. Yes, maybe you had petty fights like Valentina stealing Drew's crop top or Mitchell using Noah’s cologne. But nothing extreme. At the end of the day, the power of gossip and love united, making you a happy little family. 

So as you all enjoyed your archery class led by Kayla from the Apollo cabin, playfully pointing arrows at each other and cheering Lacy on as she hit a bullseye, you failed (more like didn't expect) to notice two mops of curly brown ran past you, making a beeline for a certain pink cabin tip-toeing in and out, leaving the object in their hands giggling at their prank. 

So, as your cabin finished the lesson and made your way for a quick break, you didn't expect to see a golden mango with ‘for the hottest’ written on it.

“Aw, I love it when people leave things for me,” said Drew, picking up said mango ready to add it to her infinite collection of love letters 

“Well it doesn't say for who it is,” said Mitchell. 

“Maybe it's for me,” said another one of your siblings. 

“I'm the hottest I don't know what you're talking about” interjected your sister.

“I was told I rival my mom's beauty,” you added.

 “She's OUR mother too,” started Piper. 

Your banter slowly turned into actual fighting, screams echoing outside the cabin as glass bottles shattered. 

“That was my only bottle left, you bitch” screamed Drew as Valentina threw her perfume to the ground. It didn't stop there, as shoes and  clothes flew out the window, landing in the mud

 “Mom gave me that belt, Mitchell,” cried one of your brothers, as said belt was now covered in gross mud, lost forever.

 “Oh my gods, why could you cut up my Miu Miu sweater? that was expensive,” you sobbed as one of your sisters started cutting up clothes nearby. 

Safe to say, the cabin was no longer the organized place that always got a 5, it looked worse than the Hermes cabin, with tattered clothes mixed with spilled makeup and perfume covering the floor. 

“What in gods name is this?” You all looked like deers caught in headlights once Chiron stepped foot in the cabin.

 “They started it,” everyone said simultaneously, pointing in different directions.

“Actually, I believe I found the perpetrators outside. Still, kitchen duty for all,” he said, galloping outside as said perpetrators peeked into the cabin 

“We did well with this one, Trav,” said conner snickering. 

“You'll pay for this Stolls'' screeched Drew. Suddenly, seventeen angry children of Aphrodite ran towards the siblings. Yes they had pulled hair and spills all over their clothes, but they didn't care about appearances at the moment, especially you, who would waste such a good mango just like that, plus you were still mad about your sweater, you had planned on wearing it for the bonfire later.

 Fortunately, some form of revenge was taken as pasty white foundation appeared on Travis's face, making him look like a clown, and Connor’s clothes instantly shrunk two sizes smaller. You would say he was rocking the crop top, but it honestly just looked funny. 

All of the cabin stood there in a circle, scowls on their faces and some laughing at the sight, as you broke through your teared-up sweater still in hand.

 “Nemesis is a bitch I guess” said one of your sisters as you threw your sweater at Travis's face. “You're lucky we’re being nice to both of you,” you said, quickly storming off back to your cabin. Now who was going to clean all of this up?

It took most of the cabin all day until dinner to clean up all the broken glass and fabric left on the floor, as well as clean some of the muddy designer shoes. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I know you loved that sweater,” said your sister. It was more than just an extremely expensive sweater to you, your father had gifted it to you as a birthday present. It wasn't often you got to see him only during winter break on occasion. It was a small piece that tied you back home, and now it was destroyed.  

“It's fine. Maybe I could get a new one” you lied through your teeth. Even a new sweater couldn't replace the damage done, and you swore upon your mother and Nemesis that you would get your revenge on the Stolls. Maybe you could make them fall in love with a frog or cause someone to break their heart. Anything at the moment seemed like a better revenge than their permanent makeup and clothing curse placed by your siblings. You were just so mad you couldn’t fathom it all. 

It all just got you in a terrible mood. You were sure your anger and bitterness could turn the campfire black. And there you were, getting ready for said campfire with no sweater on, and your favorite mango balm was also a small victim of your sibling's anger. You sat at dinner sulking, not speaking to anyone, trying to eat your mango, thinking it could cheer you up but it didn’t. It just made you angrier at the Stolls, especially Travis with his cheeky smile as you threw him your destroyed sweater. Granted, it might have been the clown makeup, but still. 

And you continued to sulk during the campfire, not singing along and sitting slightly apart from your siblings. Most of them had made amends at this point, but you just acted like it. Who could blame you for being petty? It was only justified. You were so entranced in your own emotions that you failed to see the person sitting next to you, yet the small gift placed on your lap didn’t go unnoticed.

 “I heard from Gwen about your sweater,” he said, looking down at the floor “I’m sorry about the whole ordeal, really.” 

You sighed as you looked towards him “Travis you know I can’t get that makeup off of you,” you said. You were sure whatever this gift was it was probably bribery, and your anger couldn’t let you see past that. 

“Maybe you should open it first. I kind of left camp for this and paid for it,” he said, finally looking back at you. You tried your best not to laugh at his face, but he did look ridiculous with the clown makeup.

 You opened the gift carefully, revealing a pink sweater almost exactly like the one you lost. You gasped as you looked back at Travis, “I know it’s not Moo Moo.” 

“Miu Miu,” you corrected. 

“Yeah that. But still I wanted to replace it. I know it doesn’t have the same meaning, I'm sorry, really,” his apology seemed sincere, and you couldn’t dictate lies between his words. 

“Thanks, but what about the rest of the things my siblings lost?” You weren’t wrong. If he wanted to apologize, he should’ve been replacing all the things lost in this ‘prank.’ 

“Well, it’s not like they like mangos,” he said ever so casually, confusing you.

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, you know there’s only one person in that cabin that likes mangos. It was a golden mango,” he got up and just left, winking at you as you stayed there processing his words. You would’ve laughed at his face, but even with the gods awful makeup, he looked cute, and you could almost feel your heart skip a beat as to what he was insinuating. But still, you didn’t understand what exactly he was trying to tell you. He left you there dumbfounded, trying to understand your feelings at that moment.

Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you could be pretty oblivious when it came to your feelings. You knew instantly if someone had a crush on another person, yet you couldn't understand why your heart beated so fast around the Hermes boy. You chalked it up to the ridiculous makeup he had, considering you found clowns creepy, but it still felt different. Suddenly, you didn't feel like skipping archery class anymore if it meant the Hermes cabin was going to be there, or putting a little bit more effort into your appearance each morning. You even wore your pink sweater religiously, as if it was the only item of clothing you owned. 

Your siblings were not as oblivious as you, they knew about the secret glances during breakfast or how your voice went up an octave when you spoke to him. But in true aphrodite cabin style, they watched from afar, seeing a love story form right before their eyes. And it wasn't hard to push you guys together, you seemed to always unconsciously follow him around, excusing it by saying you wanted to be more involved in camp. 

“Y/N could you take over arts and crafts for me today? I’m kind of busy with some other things,” asked Mitchell. He was free, but you did need to know that, and being the understanding sister that you were, you agreed. But your dear brother forgot to mention one slight detail: it was all the younger campers, which you couldn't stand sometimes, and that it was an arts and crafts session with the Hermes cabin.

 So, it came as a surprise to see a familiar mop of curls sitting at a separate table from the rest of the campers, making his own friendship bracelets. And it seemed to be a surprise to Travis too, fixing his hair and discreetly checking his breath once he caught a glimpse of you. 

“I thought Mitchell was helping today,” he said, pulling the chair next to him. You sat down fixing your hair too. 

“Actually, he is busy today, so I'm covering,” you explained, avoiding his eyes. His clown makeup long gone, you finally were able to appreciate his blue eyes and elvish features.

 “I’m glad you like the sweater,” he said, breaking the silence between you too. You had forgotten you were wearing it; it was muscle memory at this point. 

“Yeah, it's nice. Thank you so much,” you said, trying to hide the blush creeping on your face.

 “I'm glad you like it. I had to play poker with some of my siblings to buy it,” he said, and as your mouth dropped, Hermes boy’s were known for shoplifting once in a while, and you had assumed that was the case. But with the simple fact he went through all that trouble to get you a sweater made your heart flutter, you couldn't ignore it anymore: you had a crush on Travis Stoll and he had a crush on you. 

You kind of knew about the boy's feelings, being one of the many gifts blessed upon you by your mother. Yet for a whole month, you were in denial of your feelings. How could you like someone who played such a prank on you and your siblings? Or who always had a stupid smirk on his face to pair up with his cocky personality? Yet, you couldn't help it, your heart secretly longed for him. 

“You didn't have to go through so much trouble for a sweater, you know,” you said, grabbing some thread to make your bracelet.

“I know, but I wanted to make things right,” he said smiling at you. 

"You should've replaced Mitchells cologne, aren't you guys friends?” you said, not looking at how his smile slowly faded. 

“We are friends, but I wanted to make things right with you,” you couldn't help but smile at his words as butterflies started to form in your stomach.

“Why with me though?” Travis groaned, running his hand over his face. “I thought you were a daughter of Aphrodite” he said, with slight annoyance laced in his words 

“I am, but that still doesn't answer my question,” You finally looked up at him holding back from laughing in his face.

 “Because you're you, and I… don't you get it Y/N?” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Gods don't make me spell it out, this is so embarrassing,” the young campers long forgotten as they left both of you alone. “I like you. Gods, the mango was meant for you, there's only one person in that cabin that eats mangos like she can't live without them,” he spilled out, feeling a weight lift off his chest 

“I knew,” you said. You couldn't help but smile, it was only you ever wanted to hear from him, ever since he sat next you at that campfire.

“You knew!?” 

“Trav I can sense when someone has a crush, I just wanted you to say it,” now it was his time to blush at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“And I guess the feelings are reciprocated” you finished off, looking directly into his eyes. 

“So, will you go out on a date with me?” he asked, smiling so wide it hurt his cheeks. 

“If there's going to be mangos, then yes I would love to go on a date with you,” you responded. It felt like time stopped, and it was only you and Travis in that moment, looking at each other's eyes stuck in your bubble of love. 

[littlegodzilla]

Request Masterlist.

Hi!!

From now on here I will post all your requests, you can find it in the post set as Masterlist whenever you want to search for them.

Requests are closed.

About whom can you make a request? Okay, Here you have a little list:

Norman Reedus.

Daryl Dixon.

Van (Floating)

Travis (Gossip).

Murphy MacManus.

Marco Vendetti (Deuce Wild)

Mac (Red Canyon)

Justin (Sunlight Jr)

Bauer (AIR)

Judas (Lady Gaga videoclip)

If you want me to write about other Norman's characters maybe I'll need more information or details to be comfortable to write abou it.

Daryl Dixon x Reader.

Whip (SMUT)

Teaching (SMUT)

Fighting (SMUT)

Wet dreams and a Possesive Daryl Dixon (SMUT)

Tha' Fuckin' Thin' (SMUT)

The Commonwealth Girl (FLUFF and SMUT)

Please (Daryl and Negan ANGST)

Domestic Life (SMUT)

Perfect to me (FLUFF and SMUT)

Not Get Cold (FLUFF)

The Librarian (SMUT)

Little Dixon (AU!Daryl FLUFF)

Soulmates (Alpha!Daryl SMUT)

Conffesions (FLUFF and SMUT)

Our First Time (FLUFF and SMUT)

Thinking about You (SMUT)

Meet Again( FLUFF and Little SMUT)

My Omega(SMUT)

Hate (SMUT)

All Ends Here(ANGST and SMUT)

Easy Street (Hurt/Comfort)

The Prisoner (Daryl and Negan SMUT)

Not Good Enough (FLUFF)

Learning (FLUFF)

Jus' Shut Up (SMUT)

Ride with Me (FLUFF)

Jealous (FLUFF)

Our Little Secret (SMUT)

Stay away from her (with Negan ANGST and FLUFF)

Pregnant (ANGST) Part 2 (Angst, Fluff)

The Other Girl (Little Angst and FLUFF)

Breathless (Fluff and Sad) Part 2

Alphas (Alpha Daryl and Alpha Rick) (SMUT)

First Time (VirginDaryl SMUT)

Norman Reedus x FemReader.

The Theatre (SMUT)

Toying Time (SMUT)

Piercing (SMUT)

Daddy Norman (SMUT)

My Good Girl (SMUT)

The Daughter (SMUT)

Co-Workers (SMUT)

New Friends (Norman and Judas SMUT)

Killing Me (Sexting)

Best Friend (SMUT)

Not The End (FLUFF)

Under the Sheets (SMUT)

My Big Girl (FLUFF and SMUT) Part 2 Part 3

New Meetings (FLUFF)

Back to Our World (FLUFF and SMUT)

Marco Vendetti x FemReader.

The Wedding (SMUT)

Red Dress (SMUT)

Mine (SMUT NON-CON)

Not Escape (SMUT NOT-CON)

My Wife (SMUT)

Mac x FemReader.

New Waitress (SMUT)

The Basement (SMUT)

I'm Mac (SMUT)

The Bus Stop (DUB-CON SMUT)

Murphy MacManus x FemReader.

Stop Flirtin' with my Girl. (SMUT)

Domestic day with Murphy (FLUFF and SMUT)

The Prisoner and the Nurse. (FLUFF)

Justin Sunlight Jr x FemReader.

A day on the supermarket (SMUT)

Judas x FemReader.

Let's Ride (FLUFF)

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Some People Wrap Their Lies Around a Cocktail Glass | Damian Wayne

Come. And Be My Baby

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3k

✦ fake dating AU

✦ summary — you need to cover up the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you a week before your step-father’s Christmas party, and Damian needs a date for his father’s New Year’s ball. Both of you are experts at pretending, what could go wrong?

✦ warnings — some angst (very light, blink and you’ll miss it), mentions of alcohol, a little awkwardness, fluff.

✦ author's note — thank you for reading this mini series! Most things had to be improvised because I couldn’t follow the plan I had for this story due to health issues. I hope you like it.

✦ mini series masterlist

════════════════════════

Turning the TV off, you found your own reflection ridden by guilt on the black screen.

You forgot to tell your mother you had plans for New Year’s that didn’t involve your father. You could blame Travis in your head and convince yourself that the stress of your fight with him had clouded your judgment, but it was far from the truth.

His attitude hurt, but you found it hard to feel too upset about it. Damian had been a good distraction which was a problem in itself — said problem would bother you furthermore if he hadn’t been so perfect at playing his role.

And now you would have to impress his father. Well, his siblings too, even if he wanted to act like he didn’t care about anybody from his family.

You really needed to talk to your mother.

There was no chance you would find your mother at home. Leonard liked to welcome the new year out of the country. Calling home would be easier, you could leave her a message with a maid.

Contacting your father first would open the possibility of your mother finding out from him and you knew better than doing something like that to her.

As if the universe was on your side, your mother didn’t pick up the phone and the perfect middle ground came to your mind.

Leonard answered at the third ring, calling you by your nickname as he greeted you.

“My mother isn’t answering her phone. Is everything okay?”

“She’s at the spa.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“Did you need anything?”

You sighed. “Not exactly… but now that you mention it, I could use your help.”

“Is your father treating you badly?”

“No, no. It’s about Damian.” Before he could assume anything, you clarified, “He isn’t treating me badly either.”

“I’m all ears.”

You toyed with the tv remote, tracing the spaces between the buttons with your fingertip. “I… first, I need to tell you something,” you started, unsure. “But you have to promise mom will never find out.”

Leonard hummed. “Are you finally confessing that Damian isn’t your boyfriend?”

You winced. “Is it that obvious?”

“No. Harry told me about your fight with Trent.”

“Travis,” you corrected him.

“Him, yes,” Leonard dismissed the correction. “You didn’t have to lie to us, you know?”

“Mother was happy to know I was dating somebody,” you mumbled, “but Travis chickened out.”

“And Damian didn’t.”

“Exactly.”

“So? What’s the issue?”

Shifting, you rested your head on the arm of the couch. You felt like a teen again, telling Leonard about your day and the drama in your friend group. “I think I like him. I don’t know, I’m confused.”

“Give yourself time to figure it out.” It sounded easy coming out of his mouth.

“I wish I could. I have to get ready in like two hours to attend a ball with him, and I’ll have to pretend to be his perfect girlfriend like he pretended to be my perfect boyfriend.”

“You’ll do great,” he said gently. “You’ve pretended to enjoy events before.”

“I’ve never pretended to be perfect.”

“Because you don’t have to. Treat it like you used to treat the events you attended us. Why was that so easy to do?”

“Because I wanted you to look good.”

“Do you want Damian to look good?”

“Yes.”

“There’s your answer.” Good ol’ Leonard, always so patient with you.

“Will you help me get a new identity if I mess it up?”

He snorted. “Anything you want. Always.”

“I’m guessing you can tell my mother to call me?” You tried your luck, “Or let her know I won’t visit my father…”

“You’re not getting out of that one.”

“Fair enough,” you laughed softly.

Later, as you were getting ready, a question filled your mind — did Leonard imply Damian and you would be a good couple or did you imagine that?

════════════════════════

You jumped upon hearing the doorbell. Taking your clutch from the coffee table, you checked yourself on the mirror one last time.

Opening the door, you found an impeccably dressed Damian. His aftershave hit your nostrils immediately, mixed with his cologne.

“Ready?” he asked.

No. “Yes,” you assured him, watching him step backward to give you space.

You felt his eyes on you as you locked the door. Your eyes locked with his when you turned around, but neither of you said anything.

“My siblings might be too much to handle at first,” he warned you.

You shifted to look at him as he drove. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“I’ll let you decide once you meet them.”

“Oh, you’re cruel.”

He almost smiled.

This time the drive was shorter, and if Damian was nervous, he knew how to hide it to perfection.

His wall crumbled rather quickly. His eyes were fixed on the butler, gaze softening as he was greeted. You heard him refer to the butler by his last name, and introduce you.

“Please call me Alfred, miss.”

“Thank you, Alfred. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The old man smiled at you, bowing.

A commotion behind Alfred interrupted the butler himself who moved to the side. A blue-eyed man grabbed Damian by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug.

Damian inhaled sharply, patting the other man’s back a few times. “Richard,” he whined, “you’re ruining my attire.”

“Don’t worry. Jason isn’t even wearing a tux.” Hearing Damian scoff, Richard let go of him.

You stifled a laugh, watching Damian fix imaginary creases on his blazer. He sent you a glare, mouth twitching as he saw you pursing your lips.

“Hold it! You brought at date?!”

Standing straight, Damian introduced you to Richard as his girlfriend. You extended your free hand in a polite gesture that Richard almost found insulting.

You too were pulled into a hug. And welcomed to the family. “I can’t believe this!”

“Richard,” Damian gritted.

Ignoring his brother, the man hugging you said, “Call me Dick. Dami refuses to do it for whatever reason.”

You hugged him back, wondering if this was what Damian meant by too much. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dick.”

Dick shuffled, quite excited as he attempted to guide you towards the reception with an arm around your neck. “Come. Everybody will be happy to meet you.”

“Hey!” Damian exclaimed. “She’s my girlfriend, I should be the one introducing her!”

God. How many times would he call you his girlfriend? And how many times would you be able to take it?

Dick smiled, withdrawing his arm off you. “Of course.”

Damian lightly shoved Dick as he took your hand. His eyes found yours once again, silently asking you if you were ready. Gripping his hand, you lied by assuring him you were.

Two men and two women were in the living room. You recognized Jason immediately thanks to Dick’s comment about his lack of suit.

Chatter died down as four pairs of eyes fixed on you and Damian. You weren’t sure if they were shocked because Damian was there or because he had taken you with him.

“Hello,” Damian greeted blandly.

Jason snorted. “Definitely not a clone.”

The other man stood up, smiling at Damian. “Welcome home, Dami.”

“Thank you… Tim.”

Tim’s smile turned even brighter. He introduced himself to you unprompted, and he did a better job at hiding his surprise than Dick.

Everybody did, in fact. Jason winked at Damian as he congratulated him, Stephanie said she was happy for the two of you, and Cassandra stared straight into your soul before giving you a small smile.

Just when you thought things would go smoothly, somebody else entered the room and your stomach dropped.

Bruce stood in front of you and Damian, seemingly at a loss of words.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

Damian have his father a curt nod. Seeing his eyes deviate toward you, he opened his mouth to introduce you.

You were quicker. It was only fair, he hadn’t made you introduce him to your mother and he had already done the work with his siblings.

Bruce wasn’t interested in hiding his shock upon hearing you were Damian’s girlfriend. “You didn’t say anything about a girlfriend at work.”

“I didn’t find it appropriate,” Damian explained with ease.

“We should have dinner next week so we can get to know you better,” Bruce suggested, eyes solely on you.

“O—of course, sir.” What were you getting yourself into?

“I wish we had more time tonight,” Bruce continued, “but our guests will be arriving any moment now.”

Bruce was proven right as Alfred announced the arrival of a few guests.

Throughout the night, Damian watched you charm people he had never cared for and people he had once struggled to have in his pocket alike.

He felt you lace your arm with his and follow the pattern of his steps to walk in sync with him.

He heard you laugh with his siblings and gossip with Stephanie as if you had known them for years.

He became aware of the warmth of your palms and the coldness of your fingers as you danced.

And he couldn’t bear it.

Damian slowly slid his arm off yours and excused himself.

You decided to give him space. He would’ve asked you to go with him if he wanted your company.

It was clear that you weren’t the only one who was overwhelmed, and at the end of the night, he was the one who needed to look good. He deserved a break.

Damian roamed the main hallway, so familiar yet so foreign. Nothing had changed except for him and said changes weren’t unwelcome.

In hindsight, the only unwelcome thing he could find was how much he was dreading the end of the night.

He found his way back to the living room and stood in front of the window. He could see a couple hiding behind Alfred’s perfectly trimmed bushes, presumably making out.

Not many minutes passed before he heard approaching steps. He should’ve expected Dick to follow him.

“I didn’t think you’d show up,” Dick broke the silence. “But I’m glad you did. And I’m glad you brought your girlfriend with you.”

Humming, Damian continued staring at the greenery. “I always keep my promises.”

“And secrets, huh. We wouldn’t have known you had a girlfriend if you hadn’t come.”

“I suppose not.”

“You okay? I know you don’t want to be here, but—“

Damian interrupted him, “I am not uncomfortable here. Surprisingly.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?”

Damian tore his eyes off the window and glared at Dick.

“You know I’m joking.”

Sighing, Damian nodded. “I’m not used to… this.”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Not really.”

Dick stayed silent, respecting Damian’s line. The two of them enjoyed a silent moment together, staring out of the window.

A snicker blurted out of Dick as he caught sight of the couple Damian had spotted. Both were doing a poor job at fixing their attire.

Damian huffed a laugh, sharing an amused look with his brother.

“We should go back before Bruce starts the toast.”

Damian motioned for his brother to lead the way.

He took his spot next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. You leaned into his touch, feeling his steady breathing.

He didn’t give a single sign of being upset, so you asked him in a whisper, “Everything okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he answered in your ear.

You fought against the shiver the gesture sent down your spine.

════════════════════════

Leaving Wayne Manor was harder than you expected it to be. You would never judge Damian for wanting to be away from his family, he had his reasons, you simply didn’t share the sentiment.

You managed to fit easily with them, and what marveled you the most was how little you had to pretend to be somebody else.

The sight of your building saddened you. Everything would be over in a few minutes, just what you had wanted the day before, and you weren’t looking forward to it.

Walking down the hallway in silence, you were about to say good night as you approached his door when Damian asked, “Can you come in for a little bit?”

You nodded, not ready for the night to end. “Sure.”

Damian unlocked his door and allowed you to get in first, turning the lights on as he entered the apartment behind you.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

You shook your head. “I drank enough already.”

He shed his blazer, going straight to the point, “Travis was right.”

His comment took you aback. You didn’t expect this from Damian. You didn’t even want to believe it. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, you asked, “About what?”

“You should have been with me from the beginning. And I hadn’t even...” He made a face, as though the right words were escaping him. That was a first. “I can’t tell you I love you. Not now, that would be insane. But I’m pretty sure I’m halfway there.”

He undid his tie, speaking still, “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I started falling for you, I just know it makes all the sense in the world.”

Damian never imagined his life going like this. Romance wasn’t on his list of priorities when he left the manor. Or ever. He wanted to know himself properly, to be his own person, to finally let go of the bottled-up resentment.

He liked to think he had accomplished those things, and he had done so on his own. He was proud of that — of himself.

“You made the bad days worth it without even knowing,” he continued talking. You had never heard him speak this much. “The days in which I believed there was nothing more to myself than what everybody wanted to believe, mostly. You didn’t know a damn thing about me, and if you did then you never showed it. I was just Damian, your neighbor.”

“I—“

He shushed so you would shut up. He wasn’t done. “I was just Damian to you even tonight, surrounded by people who only see me as an extension to my father.”

“I like being just Damian. And for a while, I thought that was it. We’re good friends, we feel comfortable around each other… but the fact that you are gorgeous was never going to help my case.”

He stopped you before you could say anything. Almost desperate as he said, “I didn’t offer to do this because I wanted you to like me, or because I wanted to know how it felt like to be your partner. I need you to know that.”

“I also need you to know that the only reason why I’m telling you all of this is that I wish I didn’t have to lie when I told my family you were my girlfriend, because I wish you could truly get to know my father… because my family likes you and you like them, and it feels good.”

Getting rid of your coat, you let it fall onto the couch beside you. “Can I talk now?”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

You nodded. “But I want to.” When you were sure he wouldn’t interrupt again, you spoke, “I don’t know what’s going on. I mean, I’m not blind, you’re handsome, and I like spending time with you...”

“But?” he asked, impatient.

“There’s not a but. Let me finish!”

He motioned for you to go on.

“This is new. And I’m... confused?” You shook your head. “Not confused. Maybe surprised?” Chuckling, you messed with your hair. “I was going to distance myself from you for a little while to figure things out. And now I feel like I wouldn’t bear it.”

He swallowed loudly. “I can give you space if that’s what you need.”

“No.” It wasn’t what you needed, it couldn’t be when you felt the most comfortable around him.

Damian sat down, watching you. He liked doing it, following the movement of your lips as you spoke, and the way your hands seemed to have a mind of their own.

“I like being just Damian,” he repeated. “But I would love to be your Damian.”

Flushed, you admitted, “I like the sound of that.”

“Would you like to be my (Name)?” he asked softly.

“I would love to.”

“We can take things slow,” he assured you, eyes dancing all over your face. “I don’t want to pressure you or myself.”

You sat next to him. “It’s fine by me.”

Damian softly smiled. He placed his hand on top of yours, gripping it as his warmth eased the coldness of your fingers.

You returned the smile. “What a week, huh?”

“Eventful,” he conceded, scooting closer to you.

“At least we had an exciting end of the year.”

He playfully narrowed his eyes. “Is the Venn diagram between your idea of excitement and your idea of anxiety a perfect circle?”

You elbowed him on the side. “It wasn’t that bad.” Turning to look at him, you added, “Was it?”

Shaking his head, he stared at your lips as he whispered, “Should we make it more exciting?”

You licked your bottom lip, lightly leaning in. “It’s only fair.”

Damian left the playfulness to the side and captured your lips between his. The kiss was short and chaste, a perfectly acceptable first kiss between people who hadn’t known what they felt for each other until a few days ago.

But you soon remembered that it didn’t have to stop there. That you didn’t want it to. So you kissed him again, and Damian allowed you to set the pace at first.

Withdrawing his hand from yours, he wrapped his arm around your neck and brought you closer, prompting you to place your farthest hand on his shoulder as you tilted your head.

You felt him smile against your lips before the pressure of his mouth on yours became harsher.

Thankfully, you wouldn’t need a new identity. You liked yours very much.