Cc!Charlie With A S/o Who Practices Witchcraft? Curious To See What He'd Think Of It Or How He'd Support

cc!Charlie with a s/o who practices witchcraft? Curious to see what he'd think of it or how he'd support them/interact with the practice :)

hi anon! i'm so sorry, but i'm not very comfortable writing anything relating to witchcraft. hope you understand <3

Hi! My special interest is photo booths...can you do Charlie x fem reader where they take goofy pictures in a photo booth?

If thats too specific, i'd love headcanons or fluffy drabbles about amusement park or arcade dates.

Anon, your request is so freaking cute! The idea of going to photobooths with Charlie is so endearing to me, you got me so excited to write this!! It’s a bit more of a drabble, a little tiny one, but packed with so much fluff. Hope you enjoy!

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photobooth shenanigans

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Photobooths have been a special interest of yours for a long time, but where’s the joy in going to photobooths alone? Luckily, your boyfriend is there to indulge in your interests.

Warning(s): tooth-rotting fluff, Charlie calls reader baby/babe, established relationship.

Word count: 866

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You’re walking down the street with Charlie, your hands swinging between the two of you. Comfortable, peaceful silence surrounds you two, when something catches your eye.

The excited squeal you let out bursts the quiet bubble you’re in.

“Charlie!” you exclaim, pointing towards your object of interest. “Charlie, look!”

“What, baby?” he asks, trying to follow your line of sight. He squints his eyes as if the action would help him spot what you were pointing out.

“Babe, the street’s pretty crowded,” he starts, eyes slightly furrowed as he tries to work out what caught your attention. “What’re you pointing at?”

You’re bouncing on your toes now, excitedly shaking his hoodie sleeve to expel the excess excitement that has built up in your body, before pointing again, exclaiming:

“Photobooth!”

This time, Charlie’s eyes immediately latch on to the photobooth you’re pointing at. It was sitting on the side of the street and was a dull grey booth with a cream curtain and bright blue letters on the side reading PHOTOBOOTH in all capitals. It’s almost impressive how you managed to spot it as it nearly blended into the side of the building.

He’s turning back to you, drinking in your form that was practically buzzing with energy. Your excitement was contagious, and he can’t help but smile fondly at you.

“Do you wanna take a photo together?” Charlie asks, even though he already knows what your answer would be –

“Yes!”

That’s how the two of you end up crammed into a photobooth that looked as though it had seen better days. There was a small bench inside of it, so small that you had to prop one leg on Charlie’s thighs in order for both your butts to fit on the bench.

But of course, it didn’t stop your combined joy from filling up the small photobooth.

You’re quickly inserting a coin into the slot to start the photobooth. You were given three poses, so you and Charlie reacted as quickly as possible between each camera shutter to come up with the goofiest poses you could think of:

The first pose the two of you strike is one of utter seriousness. You both keep a straight face and stare straight into the camera, even if the façade of seriousness was broken by the fact that one of your legs was still propped up awkwardly on Charlie’s lap.

The second pose contains Charlie squishing your cheeks together with his other arm slung around your shoulders, while your hands reach up to muss up his hair. One of your hands don’t quite reach the top of his head because of your awkward position, which sends both of you into a fit of laughter.

The final pose has you both making the funniest faces you could think of. Charlie’s pulling the Zoolander face (cough Edward Twilight cough) while you try your best to contort your face weirdly.

When the photo strips are printed out (you managed to print two to your delight), you’re shocked by the quality of the pictures. The photobooth looked so old you honestly thought that the pictures were going to turn out pixelated, but the photobooth managed to catch every last goof in HD.

“Oh my god,” you say in between laughs, “your Zoolander face has been immortalised in high definition.”

You turn to your boyfriend, admiring the way a spark lights in his eyes as he studies the photo strip in his hands.

“But look at you!” He gestures at the second picture. “Your cuteness has been immortalised too, babe.”

You’re giggling again, slapping Charlie across the bicep.

“Shut up!”

“I’m not lying! You’re so cute here.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“Nobody else is in here but us. Who am I embarrassing you in front of?”

You’re quiet for a beat, before a shy smile forms on your face.

“You.”

Charlie’s expression immediately turns cheeky as he leans impossibly closer to you.

“Oh? Do you, perhaps, maybe, have a – ah – crush on, moi?”

What should have probably been a sweet moment is completely ruined because as he says that he pulls the Zoolander face, speaking in an exaggerated tone.

You’re shoving him with more force this time, barking out a laugh at his outlandish expression and tone.

“Stop that! You’re going to give me stitches from laughing so hard – ”

“I’ll stitch you right back up, baby.”

“Charlie!”

The two of you end up goofing around for a bit longer in the photobooth and eventually decide to take another photo. This time, it’s a lot calmer and sweeter, each pose being either a hug or the two of you looking endearingly into each other’s eyes.

And, of course, it ends with a sweet kiss.

Which was promptly ruined by Charlie pulling the Zoolander face when you pull away. You smack him again before snatching up the freshly printed photo strips and bolting out of the photobooth before he can stop you.

You’re sprinting down the street, Charlie hot on your heels. Neither of you care that passers-by are giving you two weird looks. Neither of you notice them.

Because you’re both caught up in the little joys shared between you two that came from a simple photobooth.

you’ve captured me (and my heart)

hero!Charlie Slimecicle x villain!reader

Synopsis: You’d think capturing and interrogating a hero would be easier what with the number of years you’ve been a villain. Turns out it’s a whole lot more complicated when the hero you captured fancies you a little.

Warning(s): slightly suggestive, swearing, a bit of sexual tension, violence (no blood, just some tripping and a headbutt).

Word count: 1.4k words

A/N: No part of me wants to admit that this emerged from the Duolingo stream. I wrote this in an hour. I am ashamed and amazed at the same time.

masterlist || requests are open!

Slime had been yapping non-stop since you’d kidnapped him midway during his nightly patrol. Even after placing a bag over his head; even after shoving him into your getaway car; even after dragging him into an abandoned warehouse; even after forcing him onto a chair and tying his arms behind his back – he refused to stop talking.

You should’ve just knocked the idiot out while you had the chance to.

Now, you had no more chance to render him unconscious because you were meant to interrogate the yapper.

“ – dude, the ropes are kinda chafing my wrists, could you loosen them a little?”

Rubbing the space between your eyebrows, you sigh wearily before yanking the bag off his head.

He looked like the typical hero in your city: a green mask obscured the top half of his face, and he was clad in a flexible, but sturdy suit of different green hues. He really committed to the slime theme.

You guess you were no different. You could see his eyes scanning your dark purple suit, which was accompanied by a cloth that obscured the lower half of your face from your nose down. What can you say? You loved your moniker Foxglove.

A light sparks in Slime’s eyes when he registers who you are.

“Ah shit, Foxglove,” he starts somewhat nervously, one foot tapping a rhythm on the floor. “We meet again, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“This isn’t a meeting, Slime. It’s an interrogation.”

“And a kidnapping, I noticed,” he quips, arms twitching in what you assumed was discomfort. “I know kidnapping kind of runs in villainy, but I didn’t think that was your brand.”

“I don’t really give a shit about branding,” you shoot back, cocking your head to the side. “That’s your kind of thing.”

“Yeah, hah,” he replies, a little breathy. “Heroes and branding, that’s how we appeal and gain people’s trust, I guess. Anyways, nice place you’ve got here. A little bare and dusty. You come here often?”

You squint at him. He was rambling.

The two of you often exchanged banter and insults during your fights, and there was usually an air of confidence, almost playfulness around Slime. You don’t recall a time he truly sounded nervous or borderline panicky.

You suppose you’ve never seen him under duress like that before.

Good. It means you had the upper hand.

“ – mean, it’s not a bad place, just not too homey. I could help you spruce things up! It would require the use of my hands though, so maybe we could negotiate that – ”

Snorting at his predicament (that you put him in), you interrupt his rambling by snatching one of your batons and pointing it at him threateningly.

“Zip. I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them.”

Slime’s rambling cuts short with his mouth still agape. His eyes dart between your face and the baton warily.

“What are you going to do if I refuse?” he asks, eyes wide, body fidgety.

The corner of your lip twitches up in a smirk, and you draw closer to rest the tip of your baton under his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up to look at you.

“If you refuse,” you begin slowly, trailing your eyes over his obscured features, “you’re going to be a lot more black-and-blue when I return you to your fellow heroes.”

He meets your eyes with a wide-eyed gaze, treating you to front row seats of brown speckled blue eyes. You’re surprised that you never noticed that before, though you suppose you’ve never been this close to Slime before no matter how much you tussled with him.

It seems as though you’d finally intimidated him into submission, as his breathing slows and shoulders set almost cooperatively. So, it catches you off guard when his lips quirk up and he lets out a little breath through his nose.

“Freaky, I like it.”

Frowning, you’re about to throw a remark when a hand suddenly shoots up to grab onto your wrist. A hand that should’ve been bound behind his back.

“What – ”

You don’t get any more time to react as Slime’s other hand reaches forward to shove you backwards. At the same time, his leg kicks out to knock your feet from under you.

In a second, you’re slammed with your back to the hard warehouse floor, the complete upset of your balance sending you to the ground. You hear your baton go skittering across the floor as Slime lands on top with you, hips straddling your thighs to keep you in place.

One hand is still around your wrist, while the other presses onto your collarbone.

Normally, your body would’ve kicked into overdrive by instinct and started pushing him off you, but your brain was still reeling from his comment and his body on yours and how close his face is.

“At least take me to dinner first,” Slime continues, a smirk rising on his lips.

“What the fuck,” you sputter.

Finally regaining one brain cell, your free hand comes up to jab at his throat. Unfortunately, he anticipates your attack, and his hand on your collarbone quickly slides to your wrist, capturing it and holding it next to your head, mirroring your other wrist.

It’s your turn to stare at him wide-eyed, wiggling in his grip in attempts of some futile escape plan. With both his arms caging you now, you’re stuck under his weight with no way out. The cogs in your brain were running on overdrive.

It didn’t help that you could feel every puff of hot breath against your throat when he exhaled.

You wish you could say you had some experience breaking out of this position, but truth be told, you were bailed out by another villain anytime Slime managed to catch you like this.

As though he could read your thoughts, Slime raises an eyebrow almost mockingly at you.

“What’s wrong? No friend to help you out of this one, huh?”

You glare at him before attempting to buck your hips to upset his weight, but the hero had placed himself over your thighs instead of your hips, smartly evading your escape attempt.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I don’t think we’re at that base yet. Although, it could be negotiated.”

“The only negotiation we are going to have is one that gets you off me, you bastard,” you shoot back.

Slime chuckles, much to your chagrin. But he quickly calms and turns serious.

“Listen, I’m not sure what you were going to try and get out of me, but you’ve already lost the upper hand here. So, why not we just call it a day, eh?”

You keep glaring at him.

“Will you get off me then?”

“Depends. Will you try to attack me?”

“Yes.”

“What if I get off you and take you to dinner some time?”

“Yes – what?”

You’re so caught off guard that your body slackens under him. Staring up at him, you notice something shining in his eyes.

Something like hope.

“I mean it,” he repeats. “Will you let me take you to dinner some time?”

As the two of you gaze into each other’s eyes, his grip on you relaxes slightly. Taking the opportunity, you headbutt him and slip your hands from his grip, pushing him to the side and getting up on your feet. You don’t look back at him before you book it out of the warehouse, swiftly pulling yourself up into a ledge on the side of the warehouse he wouldn’t be able to notice you on when he came out.

Seconds later, Slime is sprinting out of the warehouse, scanning the immediate area for you. He chuckles a little before cupping his hands around his mouth and yelling:

“You never said no!”

You roll your eyes, holding in a scoff as you watch him leave, figuring his way back to the city centre.

You’re not sure why you remain there, on the side of the warehouse. But you sit there and recall the events that had just happened. How he managed to outsmart you and undo his binds; how he quickly overpowered you before you could even start interrogating him.

How right it felt for the weight of his body to be over yours.

Feeling warmth creep up your neck, you shake the thoughts out of your head. There was no way you were falling for a hero, right?

the ending of total monster kill gave me actual goosebumps. grizzly's descriptions paired with the background music? felt like i was in another dimension

a little birdy (tumblr) told me you were taking requests 👁

charlie, our beloved, date night thoughts? im thinkin reader in his clothes, watching a movie or show, popcorn and his gas station eggs, falling asleep on the couch after hours of cuddling, yknow the vibe

started giggling and kicking my feet the moment i received this ask >//< also first post hi!!! hi!!! HI!!!

❛ hcs ; nights in with charlie <3 ༉‧₊˚✧

“hey angel,” the very millisecond you walk through the door; “was work alright?”

busying himself around you as he fine tunes the house for you - taking your coat, your bag, your shoes, your hand, guiding you to the bedroom, visibly proud of himself as he displays his freshest, comfiest clothes laid out on the bed, all ready for you.

sights set entirely on you while you strip away the remnants of your day, revelling in the content hums you release with every layer you remove, dutifully taking the cast-away clothes and placing them in the hamper for you.

listening ears ON while you deliver the latest work gossip, absolutely living for the newest updates

having to take a moment when you finally turn back to him, your hands resting on your hips as he marvels at you, swimming in an old merch shirt and his sweats, which you’ve had to roll the waistband of.

“there is no way you find this attractive,” you laugh out, watching him approach, hands first, coming straight for your waist. he laughs back, bubbling chuckles flush against your skin as he presses delicate kisses up and down your neck, “it is insanely attractive,” he moves up to your forehead, littering them around the rest of your face.

and you best believe you’re getting carried around. one arm hooked under your knees, the other threaded around your back and back up under your arm, hand firm against the side of your chest as you travel through the house as one.

looping strands of the hair on the nape of his neck around your fingers as he does, grinning as his eyes flutter at the sensation.

squealing when your back hits the cushions of the couch, playfully kicking your legs as he traps them between his knees, suspending himself on the palms of his hands, forearms caging your head.

this impromptu playfight continues for a good few minutes, lazy swings and hazy laughter until you’ve both managed to completely tire yourselves out, and you’ve ended up on top of him in the conflict.

he keeps a tight hold around your body, arms encircling you as your heavy breathing pulls the two of you in and pushes you out in tandem, exasperated giggles escaping your lips every few seconds.

“shitty movie?” he asks, running his open hand up and down your back. “shitty movie,” you confirm, nodding your head resting in the crook of his neck.

countless studio logos playing as he pads off to the kitchen, the tell-tale scent of popcorn drifting through the open door while the movie’s glaringly obvious exposition drones on and on.

opposite ends of the couch when he returns, legs entangled, the comically large bowl of said popcorn seated between them, the occasional hands brushing whenever you reach over.

spending the rest of the night heckling stitled acting and wilted writing, scoffing about how ‘we could’ve done so much better’

giggling as you gain numerous new inside jokes from awful line delivery and utterly incomprehensible plot holes

crawling back over to him as the evening chill sets in, and neither of you can be bothered to utilise the actual air conditioning, especially when you’ve got eachother.

fingers interlaced, held against your chests as they’re pressed against one another.

“i like this,” he mumbles, nose buried in your ruffled hair, lips moving against your scalp. ”i like you.” “whaaat?” “shut up,” you grumble, despite your smile.

eventually dozing off, you going first, lulled by his soft, rhythmic breathing. he watches your snoozing form with the fondest of smiles, head racing with the usual ‘how did i ever manage this?’ queries.

he still doesn’t get how he bagged you - but he’s sure as shit not complaining!!

“g’night, angel,” he murmurs, a soft squeeze of your clasped hands as he switches the tv off and joins you in sleep.

charlie in his recent stream got me thinking hero x villain au. maybe hero!charlie and villain!reader where reader kidnaps charlie to stop him from messing with her plans. she tries to interrogate him about other hero-related stuff, but he switches the roles quickly by flustering her. turns out he's actually really into her

who wants this say i