Beauty for the Beast

I don't do smut. I think it's gross.

Also, I try to keep the suggestive suggestiveness to like a 1%.

Also, I'm only into male!character x reader stuff.

Kind of a Invisi hater, but won't shove it down your throat.

INBOX/REQUEST:

Ask anything, talk about anything, but be respectful,

Try not to curse a lot (like, 20% is fine ig),

and don't be mean. Like, genuinely. I won't hesitate to delete the ask. :)

Also, don't be afraid to DM me if you like the inbox is too much. I think I'm pretty friendly.

IF MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED: that doesn't mean you can't request things. It just means I won't respond to them until I get ready. I'll still respond to comments and questions, though.

REQUEST RULES:

Like I said, I don't do smut or suggestive content.

I only do male!character x fem!reader unless it's platonic, the only exception to fem!character x fem!reader posts/imagines/series

You can request for me to create a series based on an rant, ask, imagine, or post. I'll try my best, but no promises. (I don't like promising in case something happens)

NAVIGATION:

To browse my posts, please click "c-your-hero posts".

To see my imagines, click "c-your-hero imagines".

First updates, "c-your-hero updates".

Answers to requests or my inbox, "c-your-hero responds".

To see my "Blurt AU" or any future masterlists of any kind, click on "c-your-hero series".

For random rants, they will be under "c-your-hero rants".

For past and current polls, "c-your-hero polls".

For answered requested posts/imagines, click "c-your-hero requests".

For everything, simply click on the "c-your-hero" tag.

Thanks!

Any questions? Inbox me!

"Yeah, babe, I was joking."

"That was a joke, baby. I'm not seriously considering doing that. I love you, but not that much."

"Baby. I love you, but I don't care about your lack of sports skill. That team sucks. I don't care if their uniforms are pretty."

Chase was blunt. And everso a jerk with his sarcastic comments or retorts. He loved his girl, with all of his heart, and she had to learn that sarcasm equaled affection.

In other words, she had to take it with a grain of salt, even when he hurt her feelings (which his groveled for up to a week straight. He doesn't play about his relationship with her).

On the other hand of her taking what she could, he took what he could when it came to her. Her moodswings, her insecure moments that were stupid to him but everything to her.

The fact that she had almost no idea about what he was talking about when he ranted about his favorite teams, or how she would get frustrated when he didn't understand her hobbies.

Or the shows she watched, or the makeup from the dollar store she was obsessed with. Or how he didn't like her favorite craving even though it was actually healthy for once!

Who cares if it was unique!? She liked it!

Currently, the two watched Robert outside as the boy fiddled with some of his games that he got for his birthday last week. She leans into him, head on his shoulder and him on his phone.

She gazes up at him, staring a bit. She did that sometimes, Chase often playfully shoving her face away or swatting her with whatever soft object was nearby.

This time, he raises a brow.

"What, baby?"

"Do you ever think we could do this? Have any of this?"

"Girl. Does it look like I can afford any of this-?"

"I'm serious!"

She scowls as he cackles a bit, dragging her back into his side as she went to pull away in irritation. He shushes her fusses, places kisses on her forehead and temple.

"Yeah, maybe. Sure. But you have to get your sports game up. You're lacking, baby. It's embarrassing. You need to keep up-."

"How much of it would you want with me?"

She ignores the surface of it all. The teasing, the smirk, that goofy look on his face and how his eyes hid behind his glasses. She takes them off, their brown eyes meeting each others'.

His face was blank, but his eyes told it all.

"All of it, baby. Only with you."

____

Bonus:

"You guys are gross."

"And you're a little sh-"

"Hey! Quit it, both of you."

"Bossy."

"You're dating her."

"Why not?"

"No."

"I'm not a child! I can do what I want-!"

"And what did I just say? Hm?"

"... no. You said no."

He was trying to convince her that he could use his powers to bake the cookies instead of the oven. She was in no mood to deal with the fire alarm, fire department, or their landlord.

So, she immediately shut the suggestion down at every mention of it, rolling her eyes at his grumbles and pouts every time she said no. As if he were to be surprised.

"Exactly. So quit it."

The man grumbles under his breath, watching her take out the pre-made cookies out of the fridge. He wanted to make them from scratch, and she did too.

But after the last incident with him, an oven, flour, and their small kitchen that really couldn't fit two people, she refused to let him try anything from scratch that he wasn't familiar of.

Even if she was there with him.

"So, we have gingerbread, chocolate chip, and sugar cookie. We only have one baking sheet after the last incident, so which one do you want to do first?"

"Hm... gingerbread."

"Wanna see who can make the best shapes?"

"You're on, babe. I'm gonna f*king smash you, dude."

He lied, he was a big fat liar. His shapes turned into blobs because he made them too big to begin with. Hers weren't the best, but they were so much better than his.

He scowls at her cookies, threatening to burn them when she swats at his arms and forehead in scolding. He pouts like a child, going to stop off before she drags him back by his hair.

"No, no! Quit it! We aren't even finished yet! We have to do the others and decorate them!"

Although he wasn't the best at making the cookies, he was good at icing them and decorating. When she teases him about it, he just grins widely.

"What do you expect, it's me. Duh."

"... you're so pompous."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're really passionate."

"Hm. Heck yeah I am. Better believe it."

She smiles, watching her roommate meticulously ice the gingerbread cookies and be creepily good at it.

She looks over to their tiny Christmas tree that he managed to snag from the grocery store. She smiles softly, watching the lights glow and blink as the smell of the cookies fill the apartment.

She smiles softly, watching the man fret over their cookies and pour them mugs of milk (him having spiked egg nog). He sets the mugs down, plopping down like an old man.

She thanks him gently, taking her mug and some cookies of her choosing. She snickers at him as his egg nog gets on his upper lip and even on his nose.

"Merry Christmas... Chad."

REQUEST CHECKLIST:

Flambae x fem!reader, platonic: POST 28

Young!Chase x fem!reader: POST 29

Robert Robertson x fem!insecure!reader

"Hey, can we talk?"

He freezes when she utters those words, looking up from his phone. He eyes her nervously, trying to gauge any emotion. Did he piss her off somehow? He didn't do anything, did he?

He kissed her good morning, got her breakfast... maybe the place messed up her order? Or, maybe he forgot a date. He didn't think he did. She'd remind him too much-

He feels hands on his shoulders.

"Take a breath. It's not you,"

That only made him feel better for a second before going into another silent spiral. He lets her tug at his hand and guide him away, still thinking about what was wrong.

Was she sick? Was she going to reveal something to him like being a villain or hero or something? She brings him to an empty conference room, unlocking the door.

She sighs, leaving the room dim as she sits. She waits for him expectantly, patting the seat next to her. He sits, his gaze still on her face, squinting. It wasn't about the food, right?

They had ordered food the night before, and he had ate the wrong platter for lunch earlier today. He didn't even notice until she texted him. Luckily, he had enough time to get her more.

"In my defense, I mixed up the boxes. You didn't scribble your initials like you usual do, and I got confused. I bought you more, so, I don't know why you would still be angry with me-"

"Robert. It isn't about the takeout. Relax. I wasn't angry, just hangry. I'm not angry now. I promise,"

Okay, that was one worry down. Not angry, so it was something else. He eyes her a bit more closely. Noticing how she moved, or breathed, or seemed to avoid his gaze-

Okay, he knew what it was.

"... did I do something?"

"No."

"Did someone else-?"

"No, Robert. Sit down,"

She tugs him down when he went to stand with a sigh. He was the type of man to throw fists and ask questions later. That mindset on top of being protective over a loved one?

He could get quite violent if need be, without hesitation. When he sits down and didn't make another move, she lets go of his wrist. She sighs, dragging a hand down her face.

"... sweetheart, you're killing me here."

"Sorry... uh... are you outgrowing me? Like... are you getting sick of me-?"

"Uh, no. Why? Where is this coming from?"

He raises a brow, an obvious offended expression making its way into his face. He really hoped it wasn't something he did or didn't do. That would make him feel like crap.

She looks away, trying to gather the words and the courage. He wanted nothing more than to make her look at him, to grab at her face. But, he knew that wouldn't help anything.

"I know this is going to sound weird or childish, but I feel like we're drifting since you got the job."

Oh.

"I'm happy for you, you know? You're getting your weight back, you're making friends-"

"I had friends."

"Baby, no, you didn't. Beef and the neighbors don't count."

She continues to rant on about how he was too busy for her. How it seemed like every time that she was okay with it, something big seemed to happen without her there. It was getting to her.

But as she ranted and worried, she missed his lazy stare, his eyes taking her in intently. He missed seeing her like that. Sure, he would rather her be happy. But this was okay, too.

He stands and slowly makes his way to her. He ignores her questioning gaze, as if he wasn't listening. If course he was, he'd listen to her scream for hours if she wanted him to.

He makes her stand, pulling her flush to his front, hands respectably resting on her hips. Before she could question what he was doing or if he was listening, he bends down, kissing her.

He pulled away before she could even fathom what had just occurred, the back of her head held gently and the curve of her spine was carefully traced and caressed.

"You know, I'm starting to get offended. The fact that you think I'm that much of a loser is getting to me."

"I never said that I thought you were a loser-"

"My point still stands, sweetheart. You and your gorgeous, twisted little thoughts are going to drive both of us off a cliff somewhere."

"Don't you mean up a wall?"

"No."

"How could I ever outgrow you?"

He cups the back of her head tensely, resting his forehead on hers. The way her eyes reflected the light outside, the way she always seemed to desperately cling to him, as if he'd disappear.

It drives him crazy. Every thought that wasn't negative was about her. Every time he thought he'd be fine alone, his body went through withdraws.

He needed her desperately, even more than she needed him. It was ridiculous how much he would think about how things were different. Now compared to when they were friends.

And he couldn't blame anyone but himself, because he didn't want it any other way. He wanted to crave her as much as she did him. He wanted them to need each other.

To be happy.

He places another kiss on her lips. Then another, then another, until she was put of breath and embarrassed about being kissed where anyone could walk in and see.

Without a care, he scoops her up momentarily, taking in how she felt. He then sets her down, falling to his knees as he hugs her waist as tightly as possible, face in her stomach.

...

...

...

...

He didn't know what to do.

First, she undresses in front of him and expects him to stare at her naked chest as she explains this stupid backstory of hers. And now, she had the gall to kiss him.

Him, the same man who threatened to literally kill her if she ever disrespected his wife. The same man who avoided her in every situation possible. And she just kisses him?

It pissed him off.

He didn't know whether to punch the woman in the mouth, her weak lungs, to knee her stomach and bash her teeth in. There were so many things he could've done in that moment.

So, he picked the second and first option. Punching her abdomen, he glares as she stumbled back with a pained cry, clinging to her shirt over her chest.

But, unfortunately, he didn't get to complete the first option. Courtney falls with a cry, clutching her head. There stood his wife, fist raised, panting, she blinking rapidly.

She punched her in the back of the head. Hard.

His gaze darts to her, then Courtney, then back to her. He gives her an exhausted but crooked smile, similar to a teenager in love. Still leaning against the locker, he tugs at his hair.

She shakes out her throbbing hand with a hiss.

"... ow."

"When'd you learn how to throw a punch?"

"Uh... yesterday."

"Nice. You want any help with that baby fist you got? Ice and kiss your booboos?"

"Shut up, Robert."

Courtney goes to dart away, when his wife tugs at her hair tightly. Albeit her movements were sloppy (she wasn't exactly a fighter like he was), but they got the job done.

She frowns down at her, more disappointed than livid compared to her husband. He curses under his breath, basically scrubbing at his lips with a cringe.

"... I was starting to tolerate you, you know. And then you go and kiss my husband."

"Which I did not ask for, by the way."

"Did you kick me!?"

"No. I punched you. In the back of the head. For kissing my husband. Are you even listening?"

The younger girl hisses at both her throbbing head and her stinging scalp. With the way her eyes were unfocused and glossy, her ears could've been ringing.

She might've had a concussion on impact, it wouldn't be shocking. Sighing, she drops the girl to the floor. She stares for a bit more, shaking her head, hands on her hips.

"What made you think that any of this would work out for you? What in your desperate little mind made you think that you could ever have this? Him? A happy little team? With everything you've done and hid from us?"

"I... I just... I wanted someone close. Someone to notice... something to feel. Is that so... wrong?"

"... you're pathetic. And you need to grow up."

Is all she could bring herself to say that wasn't mean. She turns from her, going to walk out of the locker room before pausing. She points to her husband.

"You, are coming no where near me until you've showered and brushed your teeth."

"It's not like I asked for-"

"Robert."

"Yes, ma'am."

As she walks out, Robert looks down at the girl in annoyance, distaste, and genuine disgust. He rolls up his sleeves with a dark sigh. She looks up to meet his gaze, flinching at the intensity.

"... hey. Remember what I said about not even looking at her wrong?"

"Yeah... I do."

"Good. So, you know what happens next."

Those were the last words she heard before her vision went black, face burning. He had kicked her in the face, leaving her unconscious. He contemplated on something for a while.

Eventually, he just grinned to himself.

____

Once he got bored with her, he left her there on the ground. He hums at the blood on his shoes. He wiped them off the best he could, grumbling. Of course it didn't want to come out.

Seeing her sit at his desk, deep on thought, he places his hands on her shoulders. He smiles softly at her jump, bending down to kiss at her temple and her cheek.

"How's the hand?"

"It's okay."

He stands fully, sitting on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. He takes in her face expression, his own softening. He gently calls her name, holding her iced hand.

"We're almost done, okay? Almost done, and then I can be yours, even more than I am now... and when we are, I owe you a date."

"Just one?"