p3achslimes

[p3achslimes]

valentines day and my friends don’t even love me :// (they went to olive garden while i was at work)

[p3achslimes]

me. with a megaphone

happy valentines day everyone here’s one of my favorite charlie edits <3

[p3achslimes]

happy valentines day everyone here’s one of my favorite charlie edits <3

[p3achslimes]

charlie & reader. nsfw, mdni.

★ praise. oh my god, he lives for it. tell him he’s doing perfect, call him a good boy, run your hands through his hair and murmur sweet things—he will melt. gets all breathless and shy, but you can feel how much he likes it.

★ needy, whiny, and craves your touch. charlie’s the type to want so much closeness. he’s always reaching for you—gripping your waist, playing with your fingers, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder when he’s feeling particularly clingy. he’s just got that desperate energy, like he needs you close to function.

★ surprisingly (?) teasing. he’s awkward and dorky, but when he gets comfortable? he’s a menace. whispers things in your ear just to watch you squirm, grins when he hears your breath catch. but the second you flip it on him? he’s a mess—blushing, stumbling over his words, hiding his face in your neck.

★ definitely likes when you take control. he loves feeling wanted, loves when you tug him close and kiss him like you need him. push him down, straddle his lap, whisper in his ear—he will get all whiny and desperate, hands gripping you like he never wants to let go.

★ can’t stop talking (not that you’d want him to). not even when he’s flustered, not even when he’s all breathless and needy. he’s just a talker. teasing little jokes, whiny pleads, so much praise for you. he just can’t help it—it’s in his nature to be whiny and loud.

★ eye contact wrecks him. if you’re looking at him all intense, all hungry? he’s done for. stumbles over his words, breath hitches, hands tighten around your waist. please tease him for it. he will whine.

★ he can also be a brat sometimes but it’s not because he actually wants to be a menace—he just needs your attention, needs you to put him in his place.

★ like, he starts off all whiny, pouting because you’re teasing him, dragging things out. maybe he huffs, rolls his eyes, mutters a little “you’re so mean” under his breath. but the second you actually take control? the second you grip his jaw, whisper something sweet but firm in his ear? oh, he folds instantly.

★ he’ll squirm, try to push back just to see what you’ll do, but it’s all an act—because the moment you tug his hair, press your lips to his ear and murmur, “gonna be good f’me now, yeah?” he’s nodding so fast, eyes all wide and needy, breath hitching as he whimpers out a soft, “y-yeah, i promise.”

★ he wants to be good for you. needs to be. but sometimes his desperation gets the better of him, and he just can’t help but be a little difficult—because he knows, in the end, you’ll give him exactly what he’s craving. <3

all for my lovely, @teslasucks37; i hope you feel better, bby!!

© slcmml

[p3achslimes]

thought of a charlie drabble to write last night and i kinda think it eats 🤭

spoiler: it involves having to be veeeery quiet hehe

[p3achslimes]

hi tess!! i cant stop thinking about bratty charlie so i’m gonna put my thoughts in ur inbox bc i dont feel like making an entire post :(

★ he gets so whiny when he wants attention but doesn’t want to outright ask for it. like he’ll drape himself over you, sigh dramatically, nuzzle into your neck, but if you ask what’s wrong, he’s like, “nothing.” (liar.)

★ if you ignore him for too long, he starts getting bratty—little huffs, rolling his eyes, maybe even teasing you just to get a reaction. “oh, so you do care about me? that’s crazy, ‘cause for a second there, i thought i was just some guy sitting next to you, suffering.”

★ the worst (best) part? he loves being put in his place, even if he acts like he doesn’t. if you grab his jaw, make him look at you, maybe even give him a warning? his breath hitches. suddenly, he’s not running his mouth anymore.

★ “you like acting up, hm?” and he whimpers the second you pull his hair, gripping your wrist like he can’t help himself.

★ he’s still bratty, though. even when he’s desperate, he tries to push his luck. “didn’t know you liked me like this,” he teases, even though his hands are gripping at your waist like he needs to keep you close or he’ll fall apart.

★ “was just messing with you, angel, you don’t gotta—” and then he’s gasping, tilting his head back because he wants you to keep going, he needs you to.

★ you know he’s gone when his words start getting all slurred and soft, voice going breathy every time he whimpers your name. his hands tremble when they grab at your hips, his body practically melting against yours.

★ “please—just—fuck, just a little more, please, baby, i’ll be good, promise—” he’s begging at this point, barely able to finish his sentences.

★ you can tell when he’s really, truly gone because he just starts babbling. “you're so good to me, feel so fuckin’ good, please—” and his head is spinning because he was just being a brat, but now? he’d do anything for you.

okay so basically this is an entire post but I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO BE THIS LONG?? i’m sorry tess, love you though <3

Dw I’ll post and boost it for u bbg cause GOD DAMN I love ur writing so much!!!

The dramatic sighing is so real he would so do that!!!

AND THE BABBLING GOD he’s just a baby I love him 😔

[p3achslimes]

charlie & reader. fluff.

the whole thing is a mess from the start.

when schlatt offered to book the place for the trip, you should’ve known something would go wrong. you should’ve double checked, should’ve at least confirmed that he had, in fact, booked the correct amount of beds. but no, you trusted him. like an idiot.

so now, after an exhausting day of traveling and an even longer evening out with everyone, you’re standing in the doorway of a small, dimly lit hotel room, staring at the very obvious, very singular bed in the middle of it.

“…so,” charlie says, scratching the back of his neck. “this is, uh. this is a thing.”

you huff out a laugh, dropping your bag by the door. “guess we’re sharing.”

charlie freezes for a second before nodding quickly. “yeah. yeah, totally. no big deal.”

except it is a big deal, because charlie is acting weird.

not that charlie isn’t a little weird in general, but this is different. he keeps fidgeting, keeps looking at the bed like it’s going to jump up and bite him, keeps sneaking quick, nervous glances at you like you might suddenly change your mind and make him sleep on the floor.

you squint at him. “you okay?”

“yep,” he says, way too fast. “just—just didn’t expect to be in this, uh, situation.”

you flop down on the bed, stretching out dramatically. “it’s not that bad. could be worse.”

charlie hesitates. “how?”

“i dunno. we could’ve ended up with no bed at all. or, like, one of those creepy motel rooms that look like they’ve seen a murder.”

charlie snorts, shaking his head as he finally sets his bag down. “i mean, yeah, but still.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “c’mon, man. bed’s not gonna kill you.”

he hesitates again, then, after what seems like a whole internal battle, he sits down—stiffly, awkwardly, as far to the edge as humanly possible.

you raise an eyebrow. “dude. you can relax.”

“i am relaxed,” he says, clearly not relaxed.

you roll onto your side to face him, propping your head up on one hand. “you’re acting weird.”

charlie swallows. “i’m not.”

“you are.”

he avoids your gaze. “nope.”

“charlie.”

finally, he sighs, shoulders slumping. “i just… i don’t wanna make things weird, y’know? like, what if you’re uncomfortable?”

you blink. “why would i be uncomfortable?”

he rubs a hand over his face. “because we’re sharing a bed?”

you snort. “charlie, it’s not a big deal.”

he still looks unsure. you watch him for a moment, the way he won’t quite meet your eyes, the nervous way he keeps fidgeting with his sleeves.

“…do you feel weird about it?”

charlie freezes. “what? no. pfft. why would i—? no.”

you grin. “you do.”

“shut up.”

“charlie.”

“dude.”

you shift closer, just a little, just enough to watch his ears turn red. “oh my god, you’re freaking out.”

“i’m not.”

you poke his arm. “do you have a crush on me or something?”

charlie chokes. “what—? no.”

you laugh. “you totally do.”

“i don’t.”

“you’re blushing.”

“i—i am not—”

he turns away, but you catch the way his face burns red. and suddenly, the teasing stops feeling like just teasing.

you hesitate, watching him carefully. “charlie.”

he groans, dropping his face into his hands. “dude, please.”

you reach out, nudging his arm gently. “hey. i was just messing with you, but… if you do like me, you can just say it, y’know.”

he mumbles something into his hands.

“…what?”

he peeks up at you, groaning again. “i said, i do like you, but i didn’t want it to be weird.”

your heart stutters.

you sit up, nudging his knee with yours. “it’s not weird.”

charlie finally looks at you, his expression unsure. “it’s not?”

you shake your head. “no, man. it’s kind of, uh, cute, actually.”

he lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “so… what now?”

you pretend to think for a second, then grin. “now, we go to sleep. together. in the same bed.”

charlie groans, flopping backward. “god, you’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

you roll over, throwing an arm across his chest dramatically. “now why would i do that?”

he sputters. “dude.”

you just laugh, and after a second, charlie does too, shaking his head before hesitantly wrapping an arm around you.

it’s warm. it’s comfortable. it’s nice.

© slcmml

[p3achslimes]

EEEEEE THANK U TESS

caught in my web !

spiderman!charlie x gn!best friend!reader

fluff | tw for a lil bit of blood ig? reader is a little dense LMAO, also swearing

wc. 6k (what in the actual fuck happened here)

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

when he first discovered that such a simple and seemingly harmless spider bite had such irreversible effects on him, charlie, to put it bluntly, was petrified.

even from the moment the spider bit him, for all he knew he could soon be literally petrified by the way the bite was making his arm feel weird already and though he can’t say he’s necessarily well versed in arachnids, that was not a spider he’d ever seen before.

he knew most likely it was just paranoia, but his brain was swirling with worst case scenarios.

nonetheless, it was very late at night and a college student such as himself did not have the money nor the means for an emergency room visit, so he decided to attempt to sleep it off, and if it seemed to be worse in the morning he’d see what he could do.

well, maybe that’s an oversimplification of events.

he’d called you, practically hyperventilating and saying his goodbyes, scaring you shitless as well for a good minute before you’d finally pried out of him what had happened.

luckily, entomology was something you were actually studying, and you had enough knowledge of various spiders that when you arrived at his apartment (for his own peace of mind and yours) you were able to calm him enough to the point that planning his own funeral was no longer at the forefront of his mind.

with the strange spider safely captured in a small jar (as afraid as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to kill it) he felt a little better even just from your calming presence.

(“charlie why did you put a piece of cheese in there?” “i wanted to be hospitable.” “.. cheese.” “i don’t know what spiders eat!”)

you spent the night on his couch that night as well (he hadn’t asked, but you knew if you left he might start typing up a will) so you were able to keep an eye on him.

the next morning charlie wakes up feeling fine, albeit a bit groggy. he flops out of bed, and he rubs the sleep from his eyes as he wanders across the hall to the bathroom.

grabbing his glasses and sliding them on, he looks down at the spot on his arm that he’d been scratching at to check it’s status.

but its.. blurry?

he rubs at his face again and blinks to focus his vision, and the same thing happens.

its not until his hand pushes his glasses up and he gets a view without a lens that he realizes that its actually his glasses that are the issue. he moves them out of the way, and to his shock he can see completely clearly without them. he lifts them up to sit on his head, looking at himself in the mirror, absolutely dumbfounded.

“what.. the fuck?”

“charlie?”

he jumps, banging his knee on the counter.

“jesus! sorry,” you chuckle, hands up. “not a spider!”

“har har,” charlie mocks, massaging his leg, a cute pout on his face.

you step into the bathroom, reaching up to adjust his glasses that had fallen from the crown of his head to the tip of his nose. he squints, rubbing at his temple.

“you.. okay?” you venture, watching him blink hard a few times.

“yeah! uh-“ more blinks, eyes wide- “i’m good.” a fake smile. its your turn to squint, not quite believing him.

you see him instinctively clenching his fist, shaking out his arm a little. you grab it and drag him forward a little to examine the splotch on his forearm.

“mm.” you hum. you brush your fingers along the bump, making a shiver roll up charlie’s spine. he watches you over the rim of his glasses.

“its a little red, but it looks okay. i don’t think it was poisonous.”

“great! uh- cool, that’s good news,” charlie bumbles, an awkward smile on his face.

he stares at you.

you stare at him.

your face is blurry.

he adjusts his glasses.

“right..”

he gulps.

“well. i have a lecture soon, so i should get going.” you give his arm a little pat and release it from your fingers. he nods, scratching at it absentmindedly again.

“still on for movie night later?”

charlie answers without thinking through it.

“of course.” shit.

you grin at him. “great.” shit shit shit.

but the twinkle in your eyes and the way your fingers ruffle through his messy hair makes his heart flutter less with anxiety and more with something.. warmer.

you turn and round the hallway corner and charlie lets out a tense breath he didn’t know he was holding. he knocks into a small table from his lack of clear sight as he follows you, and swiftly blames it on lack of sleep when you quirk a brow at him.

a minute later you’ve gathered your things from the living room, the bottled spider included to take to your class to be studied, and give him a wave as you walk out his front door.

“see you tonight, spider man.”

charlie takes off his glasses once the door is closed behind you, sighing heavily and rubbing a hand down the side of his face. he rubs his thumb across his forearm, your touch lingering in his mind.

“spider man.” he scoffs, but he can’t help the fond smile that turns up his lips.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

“where are your glasses?”

“i got contacts.” charlie lies through his teeth.

“today?” you question incredulously.

“… yeah.”

you clearly don’t believe him, if the way your brow furrows is anything to go by. you’d seem him just a few hours ago.

“is it because i always call you a nerd? you know i mean that affectionately right?” charlie hears the hint of guilt in your voice and panics.

“no! yeah i uh, i do- i just-“ he trails off. he isn’t sure where else to go with this. you catch the awkwardness, watching as he scratches the back of his neck, and decide to let it go before he starts sweating.

“well if you can’t see the screen don’t ask me what happened,” you joke, lightening the mood to charlie’s relief. you set down the snacks you brought and plop down on the couch, propping your feet on the coffee table, remote in hand.

charlie relaxes in his spot next to you, ripping open a bag of chips. “you’d probably be asleep even if i did.” you roll your eyes and smack his arm. charlie lets out a laugh.

fourty five minutes later, charlie does have to ask a question about the movie you’re watching (but not because he couldn’t see, he’s just been daydreaming for most of it.)

and lo and behold, you are asleep, so he’s left to wonder.

charlie starts to reach for his drink on the table in front of him, but you, wrapped around his right arm and sleeping comfortably, tighten your grip when you feel him start to move.

he moves just the left side of his body forward, ever so slowly, wiggling his fingers as he strains to grab his can without disturbing you.

but suddenly, something knocks into the can, denting the side and sending it falling over with a tinny clang against the wood. liquid spills from the opening and dribbles over the side and onto the floor.

“how the fuck-“

“shhh,”

he freezes, looking down at you. you pull him back again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. your cheek presses up against his sleeve, smushing up your face and charlie’s heart almost explodes. he reaches up gently, pushing a tuft of hair away from your face, and you hum happily.

charlie thinks for a second that maybe a stain on his carpet is worth it if he can stay like this forever.

something stuck to his wrist catches his attention.

its a strand of web.

charlie yelps before he can catch himself, frantically flicking his arm to detach it and startles you awake in the process. you let out a similar yelp in practically the same octave as his was, jumping up and clutching tighter onto his bicep.

“what!! what happened?” you squeak.

he doesn’t answer, just continues his task of brushing off every square inch of his body to rid himself of any potential dangers. when he deems himself safe, he looks over at you, and is met with crossed arms and a disgruntled look.

“sorry! sorry,” charlie huffs apologetically. he clears his throat, his face flushing red from embarrassment as he explains, “spider web.”

you chuckle incredulously, rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn. “spider web,” you giggle through a playful smirk. you stand, stretching your limbs, and hobble in the direction the bathroom.

“try not to die out here without me, alright?” you quip as turn the corner.

charlie groans. he gets up himself to grab a towel from the kitchen, coming back to crouch down and sop up the mess still dripping from the table. he picks up the can and tries to set it back on the table top, but it sticks to his hand. even when he uncurls all five fingers from it, its still stuck snugly to his palm.

he uses his other hand to grab it and pry it away, and it disconnects with a sticky snap, leaving multiple strands of web connecting his skin to the metal.

“jesus fucking christ,” he gripes, watching the web strands flutter under his breath.

“oh, there really was a spider web,” it’s charlie’s turn to startle, jumping a bit as he sees you crouched down right beside him, observing the wiggly webs.

charlie gives you an indignant look, one that reads ‘did you think i was lying?’

“honestly i just though you were being paranoid.” charlie rolls his eyes, nudging you with his shoulder.

“sorry! not my fault you’re a scaredy cat!”

“i am not!” he defends, pressing the towel further down into the carpet plush.

you glide your fingers up the back of charlie’s neck in a gentle tickle, and right on cue he lets out a little ‘eek!’, slapping your hand away. he pushes you softly and you giggle, falling back from your crouched stance on your toes and onto your butt. you hug your legs, resting your chin on your knee as you watch him continue to dry up the mess.

“they probably just like you, i know i do.” you drop a little hint at the end. he never seems to catch on.

“they can like me all they want, just far away from me please.” he grumbles, taking the can to the kitchen to toss it in the trash.

“spiders are friends!~” he hears you sing from the other room.

he drops the can into the bin, hoping this is the last of his spider related worries.

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

charlie never thought he would ever be friends with spiders. let alone be one.

it took him a while to realize that the spider bite had caused him more trouble than just a slight fear of the nooks and crannies of his apartment. much more trouble.

he discovered that it was him creating the webs he was finding around when he dropped his pen once while writing out some notes for a class, and when he tried to grab it before it hit the ground, he’d caught it with a collection of web strands that shot out of his wrist instead.

he discovered how strong his webs were when he tripped on the staircase while running late one day, spurting out a web that stuck to the wall and caught him, and tugged him upright before he hit the ground.

and he discovered how useful this strange new talent could be outside your apartment.

“so, any news about that spider? you brought it in to study it, right?” charlie asks as nonchalantly as he possibly can.

“oh, actually yes! we think it might be a-“

suddenly a hooded figure runs by, snatching your backpack from right off your shoulders, and sprinting down the sidewalk through a dense crowd of pedestrians.

the stranger nearly knocked you to the ground with the push and shove of stealing your belongings. charlie caught you, steadied you on your feet, and booked it after him, leaving your confused cries to stop behind him.

his speed and reflexes seem to be heightened as he caught up in a few seconds flat, and in a fraction of that time he had a web wrapped around the strap of your bag, pulling it directly into his chest to wrap his arms around, and a leg out to sweep the thief’s legs straight out from under him, sending him face first into the pavement.

you caught up to charlie after a moment, heaving heavily from your tired lungs. your eyes widen at the scene in front of you; a completely unscathed charlie and a nearly unconscious criminal bleeding from the nose below.

“how did-“ you struggle for a full breath. “how did you do that?”

“uhm- adrenaline, i think?” honestly, charlie isn’t quite sure how he did this either.

“charlie, you could have gotten hurt!” you scold him, trying your best to sound steady and serious, but by the way your hands tremble and your voice wavers it tells him you were more worried for his safety than anything else.

“i wasn’t gonna stand there and do nothing,” he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. he settles your bag back on your shoulders, looping your arms through the straps for you. your eyes gloss over and you’re gnawing at your lip like you’re trying your best not to cry.

“your laptop is expensive. we can’t have you lose that,” he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood.

you let out a trembling laugh, and yank him into a hug him with a full crushing force. “you’re such an idiot,” you whine, and he returns the hug with a chuckle of his own.

charlie isn’t sure how he did this or what exactly is going on, but what he is sure about is that whatever is happening to him, using it to protect you will always be his first priority.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

the idea to become a “hero” of sorts struck charlie one day like a bolt of lightning.

the notion sounds absolutely crazy, charlie knows that, but the circumstances have fallen directly into his lap, and he knows that if he has the ability, the real ability to protect people, he should take it.

he practices his web slinging in private, and he’s gotten quite good at it; he now can do it on command instead of at random, and can control it when he needs to.

(and yes, he’s made all of the jokes, even if he’s the only person around to laugh. he can shoot sticky white goo from his wrists, did you expect him not to be a little silly with it?)

he practices his dexterity in the air out in an old alley that no one has any reason to frequent. in doing so, his muscles have bulked up significantly, and he was flustered beyond belief when you of all people were the one the pointed it out.

he told himself that if he was going to be this new face of justice, he should protect his identity and keep it separate from his personal life. he didn’t want anyone he knew and loved getting involved; if someone got hurt because of him he wouldn’t be able to bare it. so he’s made a few suit prototypes from old clothes and green acrylic paint. he may not be the craftiest, but he made do, and he learned some sewing basics in the process (though you really wouldn’t be able to tell. overall he commissioned someone to make a suit for him.)

the last thing he really needed came to him after he’d successfully helped a woman with an issue involving a man following her down the street late one night. after making sure the woman was safe enough to leave, he attaches his web to a fire escape and is about to swing away.

“what do i call you?” she yells out from below him as he hangs from the rail.

he thinks for a second. web boy? no, that’s dumb. arachnid kid? a little silly, he likes that it rhymes, but it still doesn’t feel right.

and then it hits him.

“spiderman.”

he swings away, and within the next few weeks, ‘spiderman’ is everything that people are talking about.

you included.

“have you seen him?” you ask him excitedly, rocking back and forth on your heels as you both stand in line at your favorite ice cream shop. “he’s so cool!”

he chuckles a little. “i’ve heard of him.” a blush creeps up on his face he hopes you don’t see, but you’re too excited to even notice. “cool, huh?”

“so cool!” you thank the worker for your milkshakes and leave the small shop, the bell above the door jingling as you step outside. “i want to talk to him so bad, i bet he’s so interesting, and he’s probably so cute under the mask,” you daydream out loud as you walk down the sidewalk.

charlie coughs a bit in surprise. “what makes you think that?”

“don’t be jealous,” you poke, a smirk on your face. “just a hunch.”

in a split second you’re suddenly yanked to the very side of the sidewalk by charlie as you’re about to step onto the crosswalk. before you can comprehend why, someone comes barreling through on a bicycle, shouting a faint ‘sorry!’ as they whiz by, the wind fluttering your hair. your milkshake slips from your fingers, a small gasp leaving your lips, and charlie grabs it before it can splatter across the ground, placing it back in your hand for you.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing off your jacket. you don’t answer, still staring off in the direction the bike went in shock. as soon as everything catches up to you, you look at him, eyes wide. “that was insane! when did you get such crazy reflexes?”

“what do you mean?” charlie sweats a little. “didn’t you hear him coming?”

you shake your head. “no that’s not it, you did that so fast, and my drink-“

“i think- i think you were just caught off guard,” he excuses, checking both directions and ushering you forward to keep walking.

“so um. you were talking about spiderman?”

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

and talk about spiderman you did.

specifically, you talk about how you would love to meet him, to speak to him.

so, who would charlie be to keep that from you when he is the one you want to meet?

well unfortunately, it wasn’t his choice.

(how was he supposed to go about that? knock on your door and say “hello random citizen, i’m spiderman! your best friend charlie who i totally don’t know and definitely am not the same person as said you wanted to talk to me”?)

no, in reality, it was a total accident.

he finds himself crash landing onto the roof of your apartment building after a particularly brutal fight he’d gotten himself tied up in, his fatigue and pain not letting him swing any longer to make it all the way back home. he groans loudly, cradling his leg in his arms as he lays on the cold roof in the fetal position.

“spiderman??”

fuck. he knows that voice.

he lifts his head up in the direction it came from, seeing your head pop up over the ledge of the building. before he can say anything, you scramble up from the fire escape and run over to his side.

‘great,’ charlie thinks. this is the second worst byproduct of you having a top floor apartment. (he still remembers how sore he was after having to help you drag your mattress up several flights of stairs when you moved in.)

“are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i’m good, i just-“ he attempts to stand on his own, but groans again, and crumples under his own weight. its your turn to catch him before he falls.

“oh god, um, i can help! just- here-“ you sling his arm around your shoulder and huddle into his side, and you help him hobble to the edge. he clambers down the fire escape, using his webs to keep him relatively stable, and fumbles through the window and onto the floor of your apartment. he hits the carpet with a thud and a moan.

“sorry! um, i’ll get my first aid kit! i’ll be back!”

you leave and come back in a blind hurry, making quick work of rolling up the torn part of his suit to get a clear enough view of the gash in his leg to start your process. it hurts at first, a lot actually, but the pain subsides not long after. maybe because its you doing it, and he trusts you more than anyone, but he feels so much love and care in your movements.

he lets you focus in quiet for a while before he finally decides to say something.

“for someone who studies bugs and not medicine, you’re pretty good at this.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, wrapping a bandage around his calf. “how do you know i study bugs?”

shit. “just a hunch.”

you glance at him, not convinced.

“the pinned butterflies on your wall.”

“ah,” you say, nodding.

whew.

“maybe i just like butterflies.”

“that could be it too.” he chuckles under the mask. “i mean they’re pretty. like you. so it makes sense.”

you blush, a smile tugging at your lips. “smooth.”

“thanks, i know,” charlie drawls, leaning to suavely rest on his elbow next to him, and hits his head on a table. “ow.” you both laugh.

when you finally get him patched up, he thanks you (he almost leans in for a hug on accident, but settles for a firm handshake instead) and climbs over the windowsill in preparation to take his leave.

“hey, can i ask you something?”

charlie’s heart pounds. “sure.”

“can you.. come back sometime?” you twist your fingers nervously as you ask, avoiding his eyes. “i always wanted to talk to you but, this wasn’t really.. under the best circumstances, i guess.”

charlie’s brain doesnt know if he should say yes, but his heart knows he could never say no to you, spiderman or otherwise.

“of course.” your smile makes it worth it.

he slings a web up onto a bar of the fire escape and flings himself out.

“wait!”

he turns back, glancing back down at you leaning out the windowsill, the chilled wind fluttering your hair.

“i don’t just like butterflies. i like spiders, too.”

charlie grins.

“i didn’t used to like spiders. but i think they’re growing on me.”

and with that, he swings away.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

despite his better judgement, charlie does come back. more than once.

he knows he shouldn’t appear as spiderman in front of you more than he needs to, but it just makes you so happy, it was physically impossible for him not to when he knows he’s the reason for your smile every time.

he sits with you now on the roof of your apartment, the same place you found him the first time, and the same place you two always meet now.

“-and that’s the story of how i met my best friend charlie.” you finish your story, face flushed from laughing, and he’s forever grateful you can’t see his face under his mask. if he’s being honest (having lived through that torture with you) you actually told it way less embarrassing than he remembers it being. whether you perceive it less humiliating than he does or if you’re just gracious enough not to go into detail with strangers he’s not sure, but he’s thankful nonetheless.

“seems like you really care about him.”

“charlie?” you ask, leaning back to rest on the heels of your hands. “well, yeah. he’s my favorite person in the whole world. don’t you feel that way about your best friend, too?”

charlie feels his face heat up. “yeah, um. you pretty much took the words right out of my mouth.”

“yeah? tell me about them. what’s their name?”

“hey, whoa,” charlie lifts his hands in defense. “ask me about my favorite ninja turtle all day, but i can’t be giving out my best friend’s identity. why do you think i wear the mask?”

you laugh, nodding in understanding. “okay, okay, fair.”

a comfortable silence falls for a moment, and charlie watches you gaze at the stars above the city lights.

“you remind me of him, you know.”

“huh?” charlie snaps back into the present.

“charlie. you guys seem really similar, honestly. same mannerisms, same cologne-“ you know the smell of his cologne? “you say things sometimes that i definitely think he would say. same favorite ninja turtle, too.”

he never really realized you paid this much attention to him. his heart flutters.

“ehh, i don’t know. guy sounds like a total nerd.”

you snort out a laugh. “oh he is,” ouch?? “but he’s my nerd. i love him just how he is. i wouldn’t change a single thing about him.”

“.. you love him?”

another silence. this one a little more.. tense.

“i love all my friends, but charlie is.. different.”

“different how?”

“i’m not in love with my other friends.”

charlie’s brain nearly short circuits right then and there. how he gets a single comprehensible sentence out of his mouth after that is honestly beyond him. but he’s not charlie right now, he’s spiderman.

“i’m in love with my best friend too.”

“really?” you look at him, a sense of hope in your eyes, like you just found the only other person in the world in the same position as you. if you only knew.

“this,” he motions to his suit, and in turn the whole act of being spiderman at all. “its for them. i help everyone i can, of course, but,” he seems to be lost in thought for a second, drumming his fingers on his knee. “like you said, they’re different. i’d do anything for them. anything at all.”

you tilt your head at him. “wow, who knew a superhero could be so sappy.”

“yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand dismissively. “my bad, gotta protect my stone cold image.” you huff out a laugh.

“have you told them?”

“no.”

“why?”

“same reason as you, i’m guessing.”

“fear?”

“fear.”

a knowing look is passed between you.

“my best friend doesn’t actually know i’m spiderman.”

“wait really?” you ask, surprised.

“how am i supposed to tell them that? ‘hey by the way i’m risking my life every day for you!’ that seems like a horrible conversation.”

you chuckle. “yeah, i get that. i suppose its similar to the reason you haven’t confessed. the fear of rejection is present either way.”

“exactly,” he sighs.

after a second, a light bulb seems to come on above your head. “hey, i’ve got an idea. you tell your best friend you’re spiderman, and i’ll tell my best friend i’m in love with him.”

“that’s a terrible idea,” charlie admits through a chuckle.

“is it?” you feign indignant. “if they love us, they’ll accept us, right?”

charlie thinks it over for a second, his heart racing so fast he hopes you can’t hear it.

“okay. deal.”

you grin. “perfect.”

how the fuck is he gonna do that?

“charlie should actually be on his way, i’ll call him to make sure.”

shit. shit. he forgot about movie night.

you pull out your phone, tapping quickly to find his contact and press your phone to your ear. charlie panics, pulling his phone from his suit just as it starts to ring, and presses end as soon as he can reach the button.

you give him a puzzled look, and he huffs nervously. “sorry, scam calls.” he shoves his phone into his suit before you can see it.

“hm. it went straight to voicemail. that’s odd,” you muse, glancing at the ‘call ended’ screen.

“maybe he’s driving. yknow, gotta stay safe,” he bumbles, nerves flooding his system as he stands up and dusts off the back of his legs. “hey listen, its been great, but i just remembered i have to go-“

“wait, wait!” you jump up as well, grabbing onto his gloved hand. “can you stay for just a minute? i think charlie would really love to meet you!”

“i really uh- its- its important- i should-“

“it’ll just be a second! i promise! don’t move!” you plead, pointing at his feet as if that could cast a spell to keep him here. you give his hand a squeeze, and before charlie can stop you, you hop down the fire escape and scurry back into your apartment.

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

charlie is fucked. absolutely fucked.

as soon as he sees you disappear into your apartment to wait for, well, him, he slings himself down to an alley to ‘charlie’ himself up.

luckily, he has spare clothes stored across the city in case of emergencies like this. he stuffs his hand through a hole in the bricks of an abandoned building and pulls out a backpack, and as quickly as he possibly can, he pulls his clothes on over his suit, shoves his mask in and zips it up. he ruffles his messy hair in an attempt to seem a more presentable type of messy, and sprints out into the street.

now trekking up the stairs toward your apartment door, he thinks there wasn’t even really a logical reason to do this. he could have just told you right then that it was him, but something inside him told him that wasn’t the right time or place.

stopping in front of your door, he prepares himself, catching his breath before he knocks.

you swing it open, a huge smile on your face.

“charlie! i have something to show- why are you so sweaty?”

“i uh- i was running late so i ran.” he fumbles for an excuse. he walks in and is about to kick off his shoes when you grab his arm, dragging him across the living room to your window.

“come with me first! i have something to show you!” you say, brimming with excitement.

“hold on- i need to-“

“hurry!” you squeal, and hop out the window to climb the ladder. charlie internally groans, following after you.

he grabs the rungs and hoists himself up behind you. “can i tell you something first?” he calls upwards. “its important!”

“this is important too! he has to be somewhere!”

oh, so now you listen to that information.

when his head pops up above the ladder to see the rooftop, you’re already looking around, confused.

“where did he-“

“why are we up here?”

“i’m looking for someone! he said he would stay for a second,” you whine.

he never actually agreed to that, but he’ll let it slide.

you grip the barrier of the roof and pull yourself up to stand on the ledge, putting your arms out to steady yourself as you survey the area.

“what are you doing!” charlie yells, running up to you and grabbing your waist to prevent you from falling. “you have terrible balance!”

“relax, i’m fine. maybe if i fall he’ll come back to swoop in and save me.” you joke, lifting your hand up over your eyes like a lookout.

and as if the universe took that as some sort of sick challenge, a huge gust of wind blows through, knocking your balance off. you tilt forward with a strained yelp, flailing your arms. charlie tries to grip your belt loops but they slip from his fingers, and he lets out an exasperated ‘fuck!’

bracing yourself for a horrendous fall, you let out a scream, squeezing your eyes shut.

but it never comes. you’re suspended in the air, but there’s no wind rushing up, no sinking feeling in your gut, everything just.. stopped.

you pop an eye open, met with the rough red texture of the brick in front of you. you follow your arm that’s outstretched above you upward, expecting somehow to see charlie’s grip wrapped around your wrist, but instead you see a bracelet of weaved white. you lock eyes with him, a terribly worried expression on his face, the same white around your wrist attached to the underside of his.

for the first time, it all clicks together.

the webs in his apartment. the way they have the same voice, same habits. the way the spider on the suit is charlie’s favorite shade of green. his change in demeanor these past few weeks. charlie having a limp from the same leg spiderman injured at the same time. the fact that you called him spiderman the very first time. it all finally makes sense.

“you-.. you’re-..”

“surprise,” charlie whispers, a small, guilty smile on his face.

“can you. pull me up, please?” you tremble.

“oh! yeah, sorry.” charlie brings you in with ease, grabbing firmly onto your body until you’re sat on your knees on the safety of the roof. you lunge forward, trapping charlie in a bone crushing hug, like if you let him go you’d fall right back over the edge with no one to save you again. he feels that you’re still shaking, and wraps himself around you with equal fervor.

how could you have been so stupid? so clueless? you had every single piece of the puzzle, yet you were so blind to the placements.

it hits you then, that you had confessed to him without knowing it.

charlie pulls you back when you stop trembling, and holds onto your shoulders, scanning you for any injuries. “are you okay?”

when he locks eyes with you, he sees how flustered you look, the blush on your face, and he has to bite his lip to supress a smile.

“well, this is a little awkward,” he chuckles.

“you’re such an idiot,” you scoff, but he hears no real weight in your words.

“i should have known. no ones favorite ninja turtle is leonardo except yours.”

“don’t bring my boy into this.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“well i think spiderman already explained that.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, he told me quite a bit actually. some pretty gushy stuff.” charlie whines nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“big mouth on that guy, huh.”

“charlie.”

“hm?”

“i have something to tell you.”

he smiles shyly. “yeah?”

you grab charlie by the zipper of his jacket, pulling you together to connect your lips in a kiss. his hands immediately find your waist to pull you closer, practically falling on top of him. he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. you sigh happily in tandem.

after a second your hands find the sides of his face and you pull away, giggling at how you both can’t stop smiling and its making it hard to continue.

“i love you, charlie.”

“i love you, too.”

you run your thumb across his bottom lip, admiring the contours of his face and how his goofy grin and lidded eyes are so full of warmth.

“don’t you have something to confess to me, too?”

“i still don’t like spiders.”

“charlie!” you push him back by the chest and he laughs, wrapping his arms completely around your torso.

he wiggles his fingers up your spine in a crawling motion, making you shiver and swat him away in a fit of giggles. he leans in close to your ear, and whispers-

“i’m spiderman.”

— 🕸️🕷️🕸️ —

tagging @slcmml i hope u like it <3

[p3achslimes]

caught in my web !

spiderman!charlie x gn!best friend!reader

fluff | tw for a lil bit of blood ig? reader is a little dense LMAO, also swearing

wc. 6k (what in the actual fuck happened here)

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

when he first discovered that such a simple and seemingly harmless spider bite had such irreversible effects on him, charlie, to put it bluntly, was petrified.

even from the moment the spider bit him, for all he knew he could soon be literally petrified by the way the bite was making his arm feel weird already and though he can’t say he’s necessarily well versed in arachnids, that was not a spider he’d ever seen before.

he knew most likely it was just paranoia, but his brain was swirling with worst case scenarios.

nonetheless, it was very late at night and a college student such as himself did not have the money nor the means for an emergency room visit, so he decided to attempt to sleep it off, and if it seemed to be worse in the morning he’d see what he could do.

well, maybe that’s an oversimplification of events.

he’d called you, practically hyperventilating and saying his goodbyes, scaring you shitless as well for a good minute before you’d finally pried out of him what had happened.

luckily, entomology was something you were actually studying, and you had enough knowledge of various spiders that when you arrived at his apartment (for his own peace of mind and yours) you were able to calm him enough to the point that planning his own funeral was no longer at the forefront of his mind.

with the strange spider safely captured in a small jar (as afraid as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to kill it) he felt a little better even just from your calming presence.

(“charlie why did you put a piece of cheese in there?” “i wanted to be hospitable.” “.. cheese.” “i don’t know what spiders eat!”)

you spent the night on his couch that night as well (he hadn’t asked, but you knew if you left he might start typing up a will) so you were able to keep an eye on him.

the next morning charlie wakes up feeling fine, albeit a bit groggy. he flops out of bed, and he rubs the sleep from his eyes as he wanders across the hall to the bathroom.

grabbing his glasses and sliding them on, he looks down at the spot on his arm that he’d been scratching at to check it’s status.

but its.. blurry?

he rubs at his face again and blinks to focus his vision, and the same thing happens.

its not until his hand pushes his glasses up and he gets a view without a lens that he realizes that its actually his glasses that are the issue. he moves them out of the way, and to his shock he can see completely clearly without them. he lifts them up to sit on his head, looking at himself in the mirror, absolutely dumbfounded.

“what.. the fuck?”

“charlie?”

he jumps, banging his knee on the counter.

“jesus! sorry,” you chuckle, hands up. “not a spider!”

“har har,” charlie mocks, massaging his leg, a cute pout on his face.

you step into the bathroom, reaching up to adjust his glasses that had fallen from the crown of his head to the tip of his nose. he squints, rubbing at his temple.

“you.. okay?” you venture, watching him blink hard a few times.

“yeah! uh-“ more blinks, eyes wide- “i’m good.” a fake smile. its your turn to squint, not quite believing him.

you see him instinctively clenching his fist, shaking out his arm a little. you grab it and drag him forward a little to examine the splotch on his forearm.

“mm.” you hum. you brush your fingers along the bump, making a shiver roll up charlie’s spine. he watches you over the rim of his glasses.

“its a little red, but it looks okay. i don’t think it was poisonous.”

“great! uh- cool, that’s good news,” charlie bumbles, an awkward smile on his face.

he stares at you.

you stare at him.

your face is blurry.

he adjusts his glasses.

“right..”

he gulps.

“well. i have a lecture soon, so i should get going.” you give his arm a little pat and release it from your fingers. he nods, scratching at it absentmindedly again.

“still on for movie night later?”

charlie answers without thinking through it.

“of course.” shit.

you grin at him. “great.” shit shit shit.

but the twinkle in your eyes and the way your fingers ruffle through his messy hair makes his heart flutter less with anxiety and more with something.. warmer.

you turn and round the hallway corner and charlie lets out a tense breath he didn’t know he was holding. he knocks into a small table from his lack of clear sight as he follows you, and swiftly blames it on lack of sleep when you quirk a brow at him.

a minute later you’ve gathered your things from the living room, the bottled spider included to take to your class to be studied, and give him a wave as you walk out his front door.

“see you tonight, spider man.”

charlie takes off his glasses once the door is closed behind you, sighing heavily and rubbing a hand down the side of his face. he rubs his thumb across his forearm, your touch lingering in his mind.

“spider man.” he scoffs, but he can’t help the fond smile that turns up his lips.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

“where are your glasses?”

“i got contacts.” charlie lies through his teeth.

“today?” you question incredulously.

“… yeah.”

you clearly don’t believe him, if the way your brow furrows is anything to go by. you’d seem him just a few hours ago.

“is it because i always call you a nerd? you know i mean that affectionately right?” charlie hears the hint of guilt in your voice and panics.

“no! yeah i uh, i do- i just-“ he trails off. he isn’t sure where else to go with this. you catch the awkwardness, watching as he scratches the back of his neck, and decide to let it go before he starts sweating.

“well if you can’t see the screen don’t ask me what happened,” you joke, lightening the mood to charlie’s relief. you set down the snacks you brought and plop down on the couch, propping your feet on the coffee table, remote in hand.

charlie relaxes in his spot next to you, ripping open a bag of chips. “you’d probably be asleep even if i did.” you roll your eyes and smack his arm. charlie lets out a laugh.

fourty five minutes later, charlie does have to ask a question about the movie you’re watching (but not because he couldn’t see, he’s just been daydreaming for most of it.)

and lo and behold, you are asleep, so he’s left to wonder.

charlie starts to reach for his drink on the table in front of him, but you, wrapped around his right arm and sleeping comfortably, tighten your grip when you feel him start to move.

he moves just the left side of his body forward, ever so slowly, wiggling his fingers as he strains to grab his can without disturbing you.

but suddenly, something knocks into the can, denting the side and sending it falling over with a tinny clang against the wood. liquid spills from the opening and dribbles over the side and onto the floor.

“how the fuck-“

“shhh,”

he freezes, looking down at you. you pull him back again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. your cheek presses up against his sleeve, smushing up your face and charlie’s heart almost explodes. he reaches up gently, pushing a tuft of hair away from your face, and you hum happily.

charlie thinks for a second that maybe a stain on his carpet is worth it if he can stay like this forever.

something stuck to his wrist catches his attention.

its a strand of web.

charlie yelps before he can catch himself, frantically flicking his arm to detach it and startles you awake in the process. you let out a similar yelp in practically the same octave as his was, jumping up and clutching tighter onto his bicep.

“what!! what happened?” you squeak.

he doesn’t answer, just continues his task of brushing off every square inch of his body to rid himself of any potential dangers. when he deems himself safe, he looks over at you, and is met with crossed arms and a disgruntled look.

“sorry! sorry,” charlie huffs apologetically. he clears his throat, his face flushing red from embarrassment as he explains, “spider web.”

you chuckle incredulously, rubbing your eyes and letting out a yawn. “spider web,” you giggle through a playful smirk. you stand, stretching your limbs, and hobble in the direction the bathroom.

“try not to die out here without me, alright?” you quip as turn the corner.

charlie groans. he gets up himself to grab a towel from the kitchen, coming back to crouch down and sop up the mess still dripping from the table. he picks up the can and tries to set it back on the table top, but it sticks to his hand. even when he uncurls all five fingers from it, its still stuck snugly to his palm.

he uses his other hand to grab it and pry it away, and it disconnects with a sticky snap, leaving multiple strands of web connecting his skin to the metal.

“jesus fucking christ,” he gripes, watching the web strands flutter under his breath.

“oh, there really was a spider web,” it’s charlie’s turn to startle, jumping a bit as he sees you crouched down right beside him, observing the wiggly webs.

charlie gives you an indignant look, one that reads ‘did you think i was lying?’

“honestly i just though you were being paranoid.” charlie rolls his eyes, nudging you with his shoulder.

“sorry! not my fault you’re a scaredy cat!”

“i am not!” he defends, pressing the towel further down into the carpet plush.

you glide your fingers up the back of charlie’s neck in a gentle tickle, and right on cue he lets out a little ‘eek!’, slapping your hand away. he pushes you softly and you giggle, falling back from your crouched stance on your toes and onto your butt. you hug your legs, resting your chin on your knee as you watch him continue to dry up the mess.

“they probably just like you, i know i do.” you drop a little hint at the end. he never seems to catch on.

“they can like me all they want, just far away from me please.” he grumbles, taking the can to the kitchen to toss it in the trash.

“spiders are friends!~” he hears you sing from the other room.

he drops the can into the bin, hoping this is the last of his spider related worries.

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

charlie never thought he would ever be friends with spiders. let alone be one.

it took him a while to realize that the spider bite had caused him more trouble than just a slight fear of the nooks and crannies of his apartment. much more trouble.

he discovered that it was him creating the webs he was finding around when he dropped his pen once while writing out some notes for a class, and when he tried to grab it before it hit the ground, he’d caught it with a collection of web strands that shot out of his wrist instead.

he discovered how strong his webs were when he tripped on the staircase while running late one day, spurting out a web that stuck to the wall and caught him, and tugged him upright before he hit the ground.

and he discovered how useful this strange new talent could be outside your apartment.

“so, any news about that spider? you brought it in to study it, right?” charlie asks as nonchalantly as he possibly can.

“oh, actually yes! we think it might be a-“

suddenly a hooded figure runs by, snatching your backpack from right off your shoulders, and sprinting down the sidewalk through a dense crowd of pedestrians.

the stranger nearly knocked you to the ground with the push and shove of stealing your belongings. charlie caught you, steadied you on your feet, and booked it after him, leaving your confused cries to stop behind him.

his speed and reflexes seem to be heightened as he caught up in a few seconds flat, and in a fraction of that time he had a web wrapped around the strap of your bag, pulling it directly into his chest to wrap his arms around, and a leg out to sweep the thief’s legs straight out from under him, sending him face first into the pavement.

you caught up to charlie after a moment, heaving heavily from your tired lungs. your eyes widen at the scene in front of you; a completely unscathed charlie and a nearly unconscious criminal bleeding from the nose below.

“how did-“ you struggle for a full breath. “how did you do that?”

“uhm- adrenaline, i think?” honestly, charlie isn’t quite sure how he did this either.

“charlie, you could have gotten hurt!” you scold him, trying your best to sound steady and serious, but by the way your hands tremble and your voice wavers it tells him you were more worried for his safety than anything else.

“i wasn’t gonna stand there and do nothing,” he says like its the most obvious thing in the world. he settles your bag back on your shoulders, looping your arms through the straps for you. your eyes gloss over and you’re gnawing at your lip like you’re trying your best not to cry.

“your laptop is expensive. we can’t have you lose that,” he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood.

you let out a trembling laugh, and yank him into a hug him with a full crushing force. “you’re such an idiot,” you whine, and he returns the hug with a chuckle of his own.

charlie isn’t sure how he did this or what exactly is going on, but what he is sure about is that whatever is happening to him, using it to protect you will always be his first priority.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

the idea to become a “hero” of sorts struck charlie one day like a bolt of lightning.

the notion sounds absolutely crazy, charlie knows that, but the circumstances have fallen directly into his lap, and he knows that if he has the ability, the real ability to protect people, he should take it.

he practices his web slinging in private, and he’s gotten quite good at it; he now can do it on command instead of at random, and can control it when he needs to.

(and yes, he’s made all of the jokes, even if he’s the only person around to laugh. he can shoot sticky white goo from his wrists, did you expect him not to be a little silly with it?)

he practices his dexterity in the air out in an old alley that no one has any reason to frequent. in doing so, his muscles have bulked up significantly, and he was flustered beyond belief when you of all people were the one the pointed it out.

he told himself that if he was going to be this new face of justice, he should protect his identity and keep it separate from his personal life. he didn’t want anyone he knew and loved getting involved; if someone got hurt because of him he wouldn’t be able to bare it. so he’s made a few suit prototypes from old clothes and green acrylic paint. he may not be the craftiest, but he made do, and he learned some sewing basics in the process (though you really wouldn’t be able to tell. overall he commissioned someone to make a suit for him.)

the last thing he really needed came to him after he’d successfully helped a woman with an issue involving a man following her down the street late one night. after making sure the woman was safe enough to leave, he attaches his web to a fire escape and is about to swing away.

“what do i call you?” she yells out from below him as he hangs from the rail.

he thinks for a second. web boy? no, that’s dumb. arachnid kid? a little silly, he likes that it rhymes, but it still doesn’t feel right.

and then it hits him.

“spiderman.”

he swings away, and within the next few weeks, ‘spiderman’ is everything that people are talking about.

you included.

“have you seen him?” you ask him excitedly, rocking back and forth on your heels as you both stand in line at your favorite ice cream shop. “he’s so cool!”

he chuckles a little. “i’ve heard of him.” a blush creeps up on his face he hopes you don’t see, but you’re too excited to even notice. “cool, huh?”

“so cool!” you thank the worker for your milkshakes and leave the small shop, the bell above the door jingling as you step outside. “i want to talk to him so bad, i bet he’s so interesting, and he’s probably so cute under the mask,” you daydream out loud as you walk down the sidewalk.

charlie coughs a bit in surprise. “what makes you think that?”

“don’t be jealous,” you poke, a smirk on your face. “just a hunch.”

in a split second you’re suddenly yanked to the very side of the sidewalk by charlie as you’re about to step onto the crosswalk. before you can comprehend why, someone comes barreling through on a bicycle, shouting a faint ‘sorry!’ as they whiz by, the wind fluttering your hair. your milkshake slips from your fingers, a small gasp leaving your lips, and charlie grabs it before it can splatter across the ground, placing it back in your hand for you.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing off your jacket. you don’t answer, still staring off in the direction the bike went in shock. as soon as everything catches up to you, you look at him, eyes wide. “that was insane! when did you get such crazy reflexes?”

“what do you mean?” charlie sweats a little. “didn’t you hear him coming?”

you shake your head. “no that’s not it, you did that so fast, and my drink-“

“i think- i think you were just caught off guard,” he excuses, checking both directions and ushering you forward to keep walking.

“so um. you were talking about spiderman?”

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

and talk about spiderman you did.

specifically, you talk about how you would love to meet him, to speak to him.

so, who would charlie be to keep that from you when he is the one you want to meet?

well unfortunately, it wasn’t his choice.

(how was he supposed to go about that? knock on your door and say “hello random citizen, i’m spiderman! your best friend charlie who i totally don’t know and definitely am not the same person as said you wanted to talk to me”?)

no, in reality, it was a total accident.

he finds himself crash landing onto the roof of your apartment building after a particularly brutal fight he’d gotten himself tied up in, his fatigue and pain not letting him swing any longer to make it all the way back home. he groans loudly, cradling his leg in his arms as he lays on the cold roof in the fetal position.

“spiderman??”

fuck. he knows that voice.

he lifts his head up in the direction it came from, seeing your head pop up over the ledge of the building. before he can say anything, you scramble up from the fire escape and run over to his side.

‘great,’ charlie thinks. this is the second worst byproduct of you having a top floor apartment. (he still remembers how sore he was after having to help you drag your mattress up several flights of stairs when you moved in.)

“are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i’m good, i just-“ he attempts to stand on his own, but groans again, and crumples under his own weight. its your turn to catch him before he falls.

“oh god, um, i can help! just- here-“ you sling his arm around your shoulder and huddle into his side, and you help him hobble to the edge. he clambers down the fire escape, using his webs to keep him relatively stable, and fumbles through the window and onto the floor of your apartment. he hits the carpet with a thud and a moan.

“sorry! um, i’ll get my first aid kit! i’ll be back!”

you leave and come back in a blind hurry, making quick work of rolling up the torn part of his suit to get a clear enough view of the gash in his leg to start your process. it hurts at first, a lot actually, but the pain subsides not long after. maybe because its you doing it, and he trusts you more than anyone, but he feels so much love and care in your movements.

he lets you focus in quiet for a while before he finally decides to say something.

“for someone who studies bugs and not medicine, you’re pretty good at this.”

you raise your eyebrows at him, wrapping a bandage around his calf. “how do you know i study bugs?”

shit. “just a hunch.”

you glance at him, not convinced.

“the pinned butterflies on your wall.”

“ah,” you say, nodding.

whew.

“maybe i just like butterflies.”

“that could be it too.” he chuckles under the mask. “i mean they’re pretty. like you. so it makes sense.”

you blush, a smile tugging at your lips. “smooth.”

“thanks, i know,” charlie drawls, leaning to suavely rest on his elbow next to him, and hits his head on a table. “ow.” you both laugh.

when you finally get him patched up, he thanks you (he almost leans in for a hug on accident, but settles for a firm handshake instead) and climbs over the windowsill in preparation to take his leave.

“hey, can i ask you something?”

charlie’s heart pounds. “sure.”

“can you.. come back sometime?” you twist your fingers nervously as you ask, avoiding his eyes. “i always wanted to talk to you but, this wasn’t really.. under the best circumstances, i guess.”

charlie’s brain doesnt know if he should say yes, but his heart knows he could never say no to you, spiderman or otherwise.

“of course.” your smile makes it worth it.

he slings a web up onto a bar of the fire escape and flings himself out.

“wait!”

he turns back, glancing back down at you leaning out the windowsill, the chilled wind fluttering your hair.

“i don’t just like butterflies. i like spiders, too.”

charlie grins.

“i didn’t used to like spiders. but i think they’re growing on me.”

and with that, he swings away.

—🕸️🕷️🕸️—

despite his better judgement, charlie does come back. more than once.

he knows he shouldn’t appear as spiderman in front of you more than he needs to, but it just makes you so happy, it was physically impossible for him not to when he knows he’s the reason for your smile every time.

he sits with you now on the roof of your apartment, the same place you found him the first time, and the same place you two always meet now.

“-and that’s the story of how i met my best friend charlie.” you finish your story, face flushed from laughing, and he’s forever grateful you can’t see his face under his mask. if he’s being honest (having lived through that torture with you) you actually told it way less embarrassing than he remembers it being. whether you perceive it less humiliating than he does or if you’re just gracious enough not to go into detail with strangers he’s not sure, but he’s thankful nonetheless.

“seems like you really care about him.”

“charlie?” you ask, leaning back to rest on the heels of your hands. “well, yeah. he’s my favorite person in the whole world. don’t you feel that way about your best friend, too?”

charlie feels his face heat up. “yeah, um. you pretty much took the words right out of my mouth.”

“yeah? tell me about them. what’s their name?”

“hey, whoa,” charlie lifts his hands in defense. “ask me about my favorite ninja turtle all day, but i can’t be giving out my best friend’s identity. why do you think i wear the mask?”

you laugh, nodding in understanding. “okay, okay, fair.”

a comfortable silence falls for a moment, and charlie watches you gaze at the stars above the city lights.

“you remind me of him, you know.”

“huh?” charlie snaps back into the present.

“charlie. you guys seem really similar, honestly. same mannerisms, same cologne-“ you know the smell of his cologne? “you say things sometimes that i definitely think he would say. same favorite ninja turtle, too.”

he never really realized you paid this much attention to him. his heart flutters.

“ehh, i don’t know. guy sounds like a total nerd.”

you snort out a laugh. “oh he is,” ouch?? “but he’s my nerd. i love him just how he is. i wouldn’t change a single thing about him.”

“.. you love him?”

another silence. this one a little more.. tense.

“i love all my friends, but charlie is.. different.”

“different how?”

“i’m not in love with my other friends.”

charlie’s brain nearly short circuits right then and there. how he gets a single comprehensible sentence out of his mouth after that is honestly beyond him. but he’s not charlie right now, he’s spiderman.

“i’m in love with my best friend too.”

“really?” you look at him, a sense of hope in your eyes, like you just found the only other person in the world in the same position as you. if you only knew.

“this,” he motions to his suit, and in turn the whole act of being spiderman at all. “its for them. i help everyone i can, of course, but,” he seems to be lost in thought for a second, drumming his fingers on his knee. “like you said, they’re different. i’d do anything for them. anything at all.”

you tilt your head at him. “wow, who knew a superhero could be so sappy.”

“yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand dismissively. “my bad, gotta protect my stone cold image.” you huff out a laugh.

“have you told them?”

“no.”

“why?”

“same reason as you, i’m guessing.”

“fear?”

“fear.”

a knowing look is passed between you.

“my best friend doesn’t actually know i’m spiderman.”

“wait really?” you ask, surprised.

“how am i supposed to tell them that? ‘hey by the way i’m risking my life every day for you!’ that seems like a horrible conversation.”

you chuckle. “yeah, i get that. i suppose its similar to the reason you haven’t confessed. the fear of rejection is present either way.”

“exactly,” he sighs.

after a second, a light bulb seems to come on above your head. “hey, i’ve got an idea. you tell your best friend you’re spiderman, and i’ll tell my best friend i’m in love with him.”

“that’s a terrible idea,” charlie admits through a chuckle.

“is it?” you feign indignant. “if they love us, they’ll accept us, right?”

charlie thinks it over for a second, his heart racing so fast he hopes you can’t hear it.

“okay. deal.”

you grin. “perfect.”

how the fuck is he gonna do that?

“charlie should actually be on his way, i’ll call him to make sure.”

shit. shit. he forgot about movie night.

you pull out your phone, tapping quickly to find his contact and press your phone to your ear. charlie panics, pulling his phone from his suit just as it starts to ring, and presses end as soon as he can reach the button.

you give him a puzzled look, and he huffs nervously. “sorry, scam calls.” he shoves his phone into his suit before you can see it.

“hm. it went straight to voicemail. that’s odd,” you muse, glancing at the ‘call ended’ screen.

“maybe he’s driving. yknow, gotta stay safe,” he bumbles, nerves flooding his system as he stands up and dusts off the back of his legs. “hey listen, its been great, but i just remembered i have to go-“

“wait, wait!” you jump up as well, grabbing onto his gloved hand. “can you stay for just a minute? i think charlie would really love to meet you!”

“i really uh- its- its important- i should-“

“it’ll just be a second! i promise! don’t move!” you plead, pointing at his feet as if that could cast a spell to keep him here. you give his hand a squeeze, and before charlie can stop you, you hop down the fire escape and scurry back into your apartment.

—🕷️🕸️🕷️—

charlie is fucked. absolutely fucked.

as soon as he sees you disappear into your apartment to wait for, well, him, he slings himself down to an alley to ‘charlie’ himself up.

luckily, he has spare clothes stored across the city in case of emergencies like this. he stuffs his hand through a hole in the bricks of an abandoned building and pulls out a backpack, and as quickly as he possibly can, he pulls his clothes on over his suit, shoves his mask in and zips it up. he ruffles his messy hair in an attempt to seem a more presentable type of messy, and sprints out into the street.

now trekking up the stairs toward your apartment door, he thinks there wasn’t even really a logical reason to do this. he could have just told you right then that it was him, but something inside him told him that wasn’t the right time or place.

stopping in front of your door, he prepares himself, catching his breath before he knocks.

you swing it open, a huge smile on your face.

“charlie! i have something to show- why are you so sweaty?”

“i uh- i was running late so i ran.” he fumbles for an excuse. he walks in and is about to kick off his shoes when you grab his arm, dragging him across the living room to your window.

“come with me first! i have something to show you!” you say, brimming with excitement.

“hold on- i need to-“

“hurry!” you squeal, and hop out the window to climb the ladder. charlie internally groans, following after you.

he grabs the rungs and hoists himself up behind you. “can i tell you something first?” he calls upwards. “its important!”

“this is important too! he has to be somewhere!”

oh, so now you listen to that information.

when his head pops up above the ladder to see the rooftop, you’re already looking around, confused.

“where did he-“

“why are we up here?”

“i’m looking for someone! he said he would stay for a second,” you whine.

he never actually agreed to that, but he’ll let it slide.

you grip the barrier of the roof and pull yourself up to stand on the ledge, putting your arms out to steady yourself as you survey the area.

“what are you doing!” charlie yells, running up to you and grabbing your waist to prevent you from falling. “you have terrible balance!”

“relax, i’m fine. maybe if i fall he’ll come back to swoop in and save me.” you joke, lifting your hand up over your eyes like a lookout.

and as if the universe took that as some sort of sick challenge, a huge gust of wind blows through, knocking your balance off. you tilt forward with a strained yelp, flailing your arms. charlie tries to grip your belt loops but they slip from his fingers, and he lets out an exasperated ‘fuck!’

bracing yourself for a horrendous fall, you let out a scream, squeezing your eyes shut.

but it never comes. you’re suspended in the air, but there’s no wind rushing up, no sinking feeling in your gut, everything just.. stopped.

you pop an eye open, met with the rough red texture of the brick in front of you. you follow your arm that’s outstretched above you upward, expecting somehow to see charlie’s grip wrapped around your wrist, but instead you see a bracelet of weaved white. you lock eyes with him, a terribly worried expression on his face, the same white around your wrist attached to the underside of his.

for the first time, it all clicks together.

the webs in his apartment. the way they have the same voice, same habits. the way the spider on the suit is charlie’s favorite shade of green. his change in demeanor these past few weeks. charlie having a limp from the same leg spiderman injured at the same time. the fact that you called him spiderman the very first time. it all finally makes sense.

“you-.. you’re-..”

“surprise,” charlie whispers, a small, guilty smile on his face.

“can you. pull me up, please?” you tremble.

“oh! yeah, sorry.” charlie brings you in with ease, grabbing firmly onto your body until you’re sat on your knees on the safety of the roof. you lunge forward, trapping charlie in a bone crushing hug, like if you let him go you’d fall right back over the edge with no one to save you again. he feels that you’re still shaking, and wraps himself around you with equal fervor.

how could you have been so stupid? so clueless? you had every single piece of the puzzle, yet you were so blind to the placements.

it hits you then, that you had confessed to him without knowing it.

charlie pulls you back when you stop trembling, and holds onto your shoulders, scanning you for any injuries. “are you okay?”

when he locks eyes with you, he sees how flustered you look, the blush on your face, and he has to bite his lip to supress a smile.

“well, this is a little awkward,” he chuckles.

“you’re such an idiot,” you scoff, but he hears no real weight in your words.

“i should have known. no ones favorite ninja turtle is leonardo except yours.”

“don’t bring my boy into this.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“well i think spiderman already explained that.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, he told me quite a bit actually. some pretty gushy stuff.” charlie whines nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“big mouth on that guy, huh.”

“charlie.”

“hm?”

“i have something to tell you.”

he smiles shyly. “yeah?”

you grab charlie by the zipper of his jacket, pulling you together to connect your lips in a kiss. his hands immediately find your waist to pull you closer, practically falling on top of him. he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. you sigh happily in tandem.

after a second your hands find the sides of his face and you pull away, giggling at how you both can’t stop smiling and its making it hard to continue.

“i love you, charlie.”

“i love you, too.”

you run your thumb across his bottom lip, admiring the contours of his face and how his goofy grin and lidded eyes are so full of warmth.

“don’t you have something to confess to me, too?”

“i still don’t like spiders.”

“charlie!” you push him back by the chest and he laughs, wrapping his arms completely around your torso.

he wiggles his fingers up your spine in a crawling motion, making you shiver and swat him away in a fit of giggles. he leans in close to your ear, and whispers-

“i’m spiderman.”

— 🕸️🕷️🕸️ —

tagging @slcmml i hope u like it <3

[p3achslimes]

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), tsundere-ish!Reader, afab!reader (no pronouns tho), dom!Charlie, spanking (Reader Recieving), Canon Divergent, Slight classism from Reader? (If u like really squint and read between the lines (the longing to be touched by a hardworking man))

A/N: Heavily inspired by the beautiful dredge playthrough we’ve been blessed! (I imagined this taking place in the dredge world without any of the past memory stuff cause I came up for this idea before I finished the playthrough afterward…) This is a weird mashup of a headcannon format with actual fic content, while still remaining a little vague for artistic purposes. (Also yes I made a visual depiction of the reader above but their appearance doesn’t come up) This is nearly 2.5k words… I got a little carried away… Also if it’s bad or I missed a typo no I did not it is 5:16 am 🤨

Fisherman!Charlie x Reader

Love and Kisses

When he first came to your small little cottage by the rocks, you were less than happy to see him.

Much less than happy.

All you wanted was to be left alone.

But no, him and his stupid boat had to come bobbing over the horizon.

“What do you want?” You called out to him from the dock in a harsh tone.

He stood up after finishing tying off his boat with insane speed, seeming surprised at your prickly greeting. “Uh, do you need help with anything?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What? No?”

You weren’t like the other people he’d met around this place, instead abrasive and reclusive.

Not jumping at the chance for someone’s help like the rest of them.

“Your dock is looking pretty rough.”

You looked to the planks of wood beneath your feet, practically falling apart from lack of use.

“Well, I don’t need help from the likes of you.” You barked, crossing your arms.

“What, a fisherman?” He cocked his head, glancing down at his attire, his shirt slightly dirty with miscellaneous scales, fins, smears, and stains.

“From anyone!” You shouted, turning to walk back up the stony steps to your cottage. “Just go away!”

He stood there for a moment, taking one more look at the deteriorating dock, before unwrapping his boat and sailing away.

You watched him go from high atop your cottage, hoping that would be the last you saw of him, of anyone for a long time.

But the next time he came back was only a day or so later.

He tied off his boat to your rickety dock, before stepping back onto the deck of his vessel and hauling out armfuls of planks.

You’d been out on your front lawn, basking in the sun, when you glanced below at the dock to see it being ripped up by that same damn fisherman from the day before.

“Hey!” You shouted to him as you raced down your stone steps toward him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He glanced up at you, before turning back to destroying the planks beneath him. “I’m fixing your dock.”

“Well it seems more like you’re breaking it…” You crossed your arms. “I could have you arrested for destruction of property.”

“I’m Charlie.” He stood up, dusting off his hands, then holding one out to you. “Just so you know whose name to put on the police report.”

“You smell like fish.” You glared at his outstretched hand, causing him to retract it with an awkward grin, before he continued his work.

“Well, I do fish for a living.” He joked, a smile etching on his face.

Your frown deepened at his smile, watching as he just kept working. “What if I don’t want it fixed?”

“Well, I think that’s a shame.” Charlie grabbed a nail, hammering it into another board and jostling it all to make sure it stayed in place. “Cause this happens to be a mighty fine spot for a dock.”

Your glare was simply met with a soft smile. “Just… Don’t come past the dock. Or you’re trespassing.”

He nodded in agreement, watching you walk back up the steps into the cottage.

You watched him from your living room window, doing nothing for days but rebuilding your dock for you.

Your disdain for him shrank, if only a little bit.

“I can’t give you any kind of compensation.” You called out to him from the stone steps as he finished hammering down the last plank.

“That’s okay.” Charlie just shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stood up. “I wasn’t expecting any.”

You narrowed a brow at him.

There was no way that was true.

Everyone always wanted something.

That’s just the way the world was.

You’d accepted that long ago.

But even after he finished the dock, he came back the next day.

It didn’t make any sense.

There was nothing there for him, no trading, no shops, no interesting artifacts.

Just you.

Every time he came, he just wanted to see you.

You two would chat about nothing and everything while sitting on the dock he’d built with his bare hands, despite his jokes that he wasn’t cut out for “rough handed” work, whatever that meant.

It wasn’t until around then that you felt comfortable telling him your name.

One day he asked you how you’d wound up on these rocks, in this cottage.

“It was my grandparents’ before they died. They left the house in my name and… Anywhere was better than living with my parents any longer…” You trailed off, not mentioning anything more on the subject.

He wondered if that was why you were always alone, if that’s why your dock had been so neglected.

You were still stewing in anger.

Charlie wanted to help, obviously.

Perhaps the dock was just the start, maybe the real quest was making you see the world in a better light again.

Not that you were an objective to be completed or something, but the thought of making you believe in humanity again did fill him with a sense of hope.

And so he tried.

He would show up at various times, in the peacefulness of the morning, in the dead of night, and you would wake up for him every time.

Charlie would always honk the horn when he was coming or going, which you complained about, claiming that it was too loud and would wake up the wildlife.

But of course, every time he even hinted at stopping the practice, you backtracked, saying that if he didn’t announce his presence, he might run into a resting animal close to the dock.

You both knew it was a bullshit excuse, but neither of you ever dared to say it.

He would always do it in a special little pattern too.

Hooonk hooonk honk honk honk, honk honk honk hooonk hooonk.

He said that it was Morse code for 73, a way that people would say “best regards” through telegrams and ham radios.

You found it endearing, though you’d never say that to his face.

But then one day he changed it.

Hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk, hooonk hooonk hooonk honk honk.

You asked him what it meant, and he just shrugged, a sly grin on his face.

You searched your grandparents’ small library for something, anything regarding Morse code, but you found nothing.

Any time you brought it up he would move to a new topic immediately, a shit eating grin on his face.

You would talk to him about the new things you were growing in your garden and he would talk to you about the fish he’d caught that day, even inviting you aboard one time to view the fish in the cooler.

“Is it… Supposed to look like that?”

“Uh… I don’t really know. The fish look kinda different around here.”

“And that one?”

“Oh that one’s actually rotting, let me throw that out.”

“Oh, ew ew ew-“

You didn’t end up going back in there for a while.

It got to the point that he was tying his boat to your dock every other day consistently for nearly three months.

So when he didn’t show up for nearly a week, you were worried.

Insanely worried.

Like stay up all night tossing and turning imagining the worst worried.

One day, at around dinner time, a horn honked out in a pattern you recognized so well across the horizon.

You practically knocked your dining room chair over at how fast you stood up and sprinted out the door, racing down the stone steps to meet him.

Charlie had just finished tying his boat to your dock as you wrapped him in a hug.

He stumbled lightly, not expecting the sudden contact.

“Where were you?” You mumbled into his shoulder, despite the faint fish smell.

Behind it, he smelled like the ocean breeze, salty and warm.

“I’m sorry.” Charlie whispered against the crown of your head, your hair tickling his face as he pulled you closer. “I was helping a friend. It took longer than I thought it would.”

“I thought that you…”

Drowned? Died? Lost interest?

He seemed to understand every thought in your head immediately, pulling away from you just far enough to tilt your chin up with a hooked finger and kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, even as he pulled away, you struggled to open them again.

“It’ll take more than a few sea beasts to sink me.” He joked with a lopsided smile, even though the prospect wasn’t very funny.

“Don’t do that again.” You mumbled, deadly serious despite the soft look in your eyes.

Charlie pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I won’t, I promise.”

From then on he never left for longer than a day without letting you know ahead of time.

It only took a few more visits for you to finally invite him to come up and see the house.

But that wasn’t your only intention.

“You know, I never did thank you properly for rebuilding my dock… But I think I have a little something that you’d like~”

But first you forced him to hose off the fish smell before he stepped inside.

It didn’t take long before you were on him, to his absolute delight.

After all, you hadn’t had someone in your house for a long time, so you weren’t about to waste it.

It took only moments until he had you face down and ass up on the bed.

You’d been so rude to him when he’d first arrived, he wanted to be a little mean back.

And there was absolutely no way you were thinking of stopping him.

He caressed your waist like he hadn’t touched anyone like this in years.

And being as secluded out at sea as he was, he probably hadn’t.

His fingers kneaded the bare skin on your waist, thighs, ass, everything covering the important bits discarded already on your bedroom floor.

When he slipped inside you for the first time it practically made you see stars.

“Oh, fuck!”

It already reached so fucking deep inside you.

Your eyes rolled back for a moment, before fluttering closed at the sensations zipping through your synapses and corrupting your brain into a hazy state of complete pleasure.

His speed was anything but slow, his desperation obvious in how he stretched you out, not waiting for you at all.

It hurt in just the right way to feel so good, especially when it was Charlie doing it to you.

“Fuck, feels so good…” He slurred out, his mind mush at the sight of your body combined with the feeling of your velvety walls pulsing around him.

You gasped slightly as he landed a light slap on your ass, so soft it couldn’t even be considered a slap, maybe just a harsh motion to make your ass jiggle for him.

Wiggling your ass involuntarily in response led to him grabbing your ass, slapping it again just to make it move.

A moan fell from your lips at the contact, making him grin and slap harder.

“Oh fuck…” He mumbled, busy admiring your reactions to his spanking. “So good for me~”

His voice was breathy, like he was fighting to hold himself back.

“Please~” You weren’t even exactly sure what you were asking for, but it was the only word you managed to choke out before you sobbed in pleasure at his increase in speed.

Charlie pressed your hips into the mattress with his own, the pure force of his thrusts bouncing you back onto his cock. “That’s it, baby~”

God, you were gonna cum.

You were gonna cum on a fisherman’s cock.

You were gonna cum on Charlie’s cock.

You gasped as you squirted around him, dripping all over the bed, running down your thighs and his balls.

His hips ground against you, shoving his cock all the way in to kiss at your cervix, making you groan in pleasured pain at the feeling.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Uh huh!” You moaned against the mattress, grasping your sheets desperately for some kind of purchase to recover from your orgasm, but he didn’t give you that.

Charlie gripped your ass, pulling you back onto his cock again, making you shout out and arch your back.

“Hah~ Hah~ Hah~” You panted and groaned and shook within his mighty grip, completely helpless.

“I’m gonna come home to you every fucking night…” He pants between thrusts, profanities spilling from his mouth under his breath. “And I’m gonna fill you up every fucking night.”

Your walls clench at the thought of Charlie calling your home his, your body his, you his.

He feels it around him, making him pound harder, faster, if that was even possible.

You could tell he was purely trying to cum, absolutely thrilled at the notion that it would be inside you, so much so you whispered to him. “Please… Cum inside meee~” You whined, Charlie responding with a light groan and a tighter readjustment of his grip on your ass.

He pounded into you with wild abandon, the wetness from your previous orgasm letting him glide freely in and out of you.

“Fuck~” Charlie moaned headily at the sensation, your walls fluttering around him in overstimulation.

His fingertips gripped your waist hard as he rocked inside you a few more times, slowing to a stop as he twitched and panted, emptying his load inside you.

You both practically collapsed into each other, breathing and shivering, absolutely exhausted.

It wasn’t until you were in his arms and he was playing with your hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers, that he let his big secret slip.

“It’s 88.”

“What?” You asked groggily, glancing up from his chest.

“The Morse code. I changed it to 88.”

You said nothing, waiting for him to continue on his own.

He bit the inside of his flushed cheek, shy for the first time in his life. “It means… Love and kisses.”

You had to hold back a grin.

“Love and kisses?” You repeated back with a teasing smirk.

He nodded triumphantly, as if he had won a game. “I know, I’m a genius.”

You chuckle, smacking him lightly on the chest.

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You raised a finger, tapping it rhythmically on his arm.

Press press press tap tap, press press press tap tap.

Charlie smiled, pulling you tighter as he repeated the pattern against your back.

The two of you fell asleep together, pressing “love and kisses” into each others’ skin.

[p3achslimes]

can you write about charlie LOVINGGGG when reader digs their nails into his back while he fucks them? ❤️❤️

heck yeah, hope you're good w a Charlie POV

this fits into my little If The Call Me a Slut world but it's gonna be a wait to find out when.

Note* yeah so this is gonna be a part 1.

1/4 through a sex scene and I'm making y'all wait.

She's out with Tina getting their nails done for a photoshoot she'd been roped into. My baby prefers being behind the camera. Maybe that's where the anxiety is coming from; it might be second hand on her behalf. I'm chewing over the thought when she comes in loudly. I hear the sounds of dropping bags before I hear her.

"Hey Charlorb, I'm here!" The giggle under her words when she comes up with a new nickname she's definitely used before is music to my ears.

"In the office!" I call out as she crashes through my place. The complete comfort she finds in using my space as her own brings a small grin to my lips.

"Baabe!" She shouts even as she bursts through my open door and gets close, "look at how fucking cute these are,"

I've already got my arms halfway around her and have to lean back when she puts her fingers inches from my eyes.

"Woah! You're gonna take my eyes out," I laugh.

She sinks down into my lap and holds her nails out for me to see. It takes me some time to notice; I'm busy hurrying my lips into her neck.

"Look!" She protests.

Her impatient whines have the opposite effect on me. I groan into her skin before pulling away to see. "Babe they're green!"

"Right! Cause like, they're your favorite colour and I thought that you might like them maybe..." trailing off her sentence into mumbles, she tries to take her hands away.

"Wait, let me see," I grab her wrist and pull it back towards me.

As I pull, she loses balance on my lap, throwing her arm over my shoulder for support. Her newly sharpened nails drag gently across the back of my neck and I shudder in response. When I glance back over, that little smirk in her face tells me she clocked exactly how it made me feel. Her teeth bare in gorgeous cruelty as my face reddens to her response.

"So you like them?" she thinks she's playing it casual, but her intrigued voice gives her away.

I play along for her. It's best to let her think she's getting her way. Looking back to her hand in mine, I smile through my moment of embarrassment, "They're great, babe,"

Before I close my mouth on the last word, I feel nails pressing into my shoulder, trailing across my back at an agonizingly lax pace.

"Fuck!" The moan leaves my lips and in an instant I've dragged us to the couch behind my set up.

"You really like-" she starts.

I cut her off with my lips pressed in a hard kiss. Legs placed on either side of mine, she kisses back. I feel a hand on each shoulder and those claws pricking skin though my shirt. When I break away only to bite at her neck, her grip tightens. My growl in her soft flesh gets cut off as the shirt gets pulled over my head.

"How hard should I scratch?" She whispers beside my face.

"I'll tell you when to stop," my teeth find her skin again and nails drag quickly along my spine. I can feel the hesitance and know I'm gonna have to make her lose control to feel just how much I can take.

Between kisses and bites, I push her to her feet. She takes off her top while I slide her pants and panties to the floor. My mouth touches a hip as her bra hits the floor. The sigh of approval she makes is followed by a hand sliding into my hair. The gentle scratches on my scalp are soothing and I let myself melt into them for just a moment.

My hand runs slowly up her inner thigh and as it nears her core I hear a sweet little gasp from above me. I drag my fingers down and back up, feeling her tense with excitement and deflate in disappointment after each stroke. I don't make her wait long, and run my index over her wet slit. Her hand in my hair tightens and I smile against her soft stomach.

The whimper she makes becomes a trembling moan as I press against her entrance. "Charlie?" She murmurs a breathy plea. "Charlie, I-"

I cut her off again, sliding two fingers inside. Slowly, I pull them back. I leave them partially in, letting her wait like this for a moment. Her loud whine and trembling arm are like a little symphony. Fuck, it feels good to be wanted this bad.

"You're so wet," I tease, moving my touch up towards her clit. I place more kisses strategically around her hip bones while I let my fingers get close to her favorite spots.

When she presses into my hand, desperately seeking pleasure, I know she's right where I want her. Her whimpers become groans as she shakily ties to ride my hand.

"So pretty," I coo, leaning back to watch.

[p3achslimes]

[p3achslimes]

update its at 2.3k…. this is the longest thing i have written in a LONG time,,

just the first part of spiderman charlie is already almost 800 words what the fuck

[p3achslimes]

tech support! charlie & reader. fluff.

you hate making phone calls.

absolutely despise it, actually. something about talking to a stranger, especially for customer support, makes your skin crawl. but your laptop is acting up, and after scouring the internet for a solution and coming up empty handed, you seemingly have no other choice. so, you dial the number, swallow your nerves, and wait.

“hello! this is charlie from tech co’s customer support! how can i help you today?”

you weren’t expecting the voice on the other end to sound so… cute?

it’s warm, gentle, and just a little scratchy, like he’s been talking all day but still has patience to spare. suddenly, making this phone call doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

“hi, um. yeah. my laptop isn’t working? i mean, obviously, that’s why i’m calling, but, uh, it won’t turn on, and i have no idea why.”

“gotcha! let’s see if we can get that fixed for you!”

his voice is so reassuring you almost forget you’re actually supposed to be fixing something.

he walks you through the steps, patient as ever while you fumble through them. when you press the wrong button, he gently corrects you. when you let out a frustrated groan, he laughs—not in a mean way, but like he finds you endearing. and god, it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“it’s okay, take your time! i’m here to help, promise.”

and help he does.

except at some point, your laptop starts working again, but you don’t want tell him.

“huh? still not working? that’s weird.”

you lie straight through your teeth just to keep talking to him. it’s shameless, really, but you don’t even care. he’s kind, patient, and his voice is the nicest thing you’ve heard all day. so you keep up the act just a little longer, drawing out the conversation until there’s truly nothing left to say.

“well, i’m glad i could help! and if you need anything else, you know where to call.”

oh, you do. and you’re already thinking about it.

“you’ve been super helpful, by the way,” you say, hesitating just a little before asking, “um, what’s your name? so i can leave a good review?”

“oh! yeah, of course. it’s charlie.”

charlie. yeah, that suits him.

“thanks, charlie. i really appreciate it.”

“anytime.”

—

you call back the next day.

you shouldn’t. there is no reason to. your laptop is fine, perfectly fine, but—

“hello! tech support, how can i help you?”

your heart sinks for a second before you realize it’s not charlie.

“oh, um,” you stammer, scrambling for an excuse. “i, uh, had an issue with my laptop the other day, and i wanted to follow up? i think the guy who helped me was named charlie?”

“oh, charlie! yeah, give me a sec, i’ll transfer you over.”

your stomach does a whole flip before you hear the click of the line transferring.

“hello?”

oh, thank god.

“hey, charlie,” you say, and you hope he doesn’t hear the stupid little smile in your voice. “it’s me. again.”

“oh, hey! did something go wrong with your laptop?”

“yeah, it’s, uh. still kinda acting up.”

lie.

“oh no,” he says, immediately concerned. “what’s it doing now?”

you make something up on the spot, some vague, convoluted problem that doesn’t actually exist, but he still goes along with it. walks you through another set of steps, laughs ok when you struggle, and just—keeps talking to you.

and this time, you swear he’s stalling, too.

—

it becomes a thing. you call every couple of days with some tech issue you made up, and he never questions it, just helps you like normal and talks to you like he’s actually happy to hear your voice. (spoilers: he is)

until the one time you say, “ugh, this laptop hates me,” and he hums thoughtfully before going, “you know, for a laptop that’s given you this many problems, you sure seem to like using it.”

does this mean he knows?

“what?” you say, playing dumb.

“i mean, you’ve had, what, like five different issues this week?” he teases. “i’m starting to think you just like calling tech support.”

heat rushes to your face. “okay, first of all,” you say, indignant. “it was three times.”

“mmhm.”

“second of all,” you start, then stop. because what is your second point? that he’s right? that you do like calling tech support? or, more specifically, that you like calling him?

“whatever,” you mumble instead, hoping he can’t hear how flustered you are.

but if the way he’s laughing is any indication, he totally can.

—

a week later, you take it one step further.

you don’t call this time. you show up.

you made a small google search to find the address of tech co, the store he works at, before stepping inside with a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under your skin. you don’t even know what he looks like, but somehow, you just know when you see him.

he’s standing behind the counter, light brown hair, slightly messy, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. he’s cuter than you imagined—not just cute, but like, unfairly pretty. and when his eyes meet yours, shining with kindness, you know you made the right call.

“hi,” you say, leaning onto the counter.

“hey,” he says back, smiling. “fancy seeing you here.”

“yeah, well. my laptop broke again,” you say, suppressing a grin.

he raises an eyebrow. “oh, did it now?”

“yeah.. completely fried. tragic, really.”

“oh, so tragic,” he echoes, playing along.

you both know you’re full of shit. neither of you really care.

“so,” he leans in just a little, resting his arms on the counter, closer to you. “now that i’ve seen you in person, should i expect more tech issues? or was this a one time thing?”

you laugh, feeling a little bold. “you think i’d come to your job just to say it’s a ‘one time thing’?”

“i hope not,” he says with a slightly nervous smile.

your heart flips. he’s so cute.

“well, it’s not,” you say, mustering all your courage. “‘cause, you know, i’ve got a real issue that could use your help.”

his grin widens. “mmhm. and what would that be?”

“i need your number. y’know, in case of emergency. i mean, what if my laptop explodes?”

he blinks.

then he laughs—soft, surprised, pleased—before pulling a receipt from the register and scribbling something on it.

when he slides it over, his fingers brush yours, and you think, yeah. totally worth it.

© slcmml

[p3achslimes]

two scenes written and its almost 1.6k,,

here’s the question though. do i post it in multiple parts and just post what i have done already now 🧍🏻‍♀️

just the first part of spiderman charlie is already almost 800 words what the fuck

[p3achslimes]

charlie & reader. nsfw, mdni.

charlie’s hands are gripping at your waist, pulling you closer, fingers digging into your sides like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. his breath is ragged, his lips red and swollen, and his eyes—heavy lidded and desperate—are locked onto yours like he’s waiting for something, like he needs something.

“please,” he murmurs, voice shaky, barely above a whisper. he shifts restlessly beneath you, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to fuse you together.

you whimper, just as desperate, just as needy. “charlie, need you—”

he crashes his lips against yours before you can finish, swallowing your words with a desperate kiss, all heat and need, all messy and uncoordinated, like neither of you can get enough. you fist your hands into his shirt, pulling him closer, whining into his mouth when he tugs at your waist, pressing you flush against him.

“fuck, need you so bad,” charlie groans, his hands sliding under your shirt, warm fingers tracing up your spine. his voice is wrecked, breathless, every syllable spilling from his lips like a prayer.

“m’right here,” you gasp, tilting your head back as he trails kisses down your jaw, your neck, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin. “right here, baby.”

“you sound so pretty,” he mutters against your skin, pressing a kiss just below your ear. his grip tightens on you, and you let out a soft whimper, clutching at his shoulders.

“so do you,” you shoot back, voice breaking on a moan as he rolls his hips up into yours, just enough friction to make your head spin.

he groans, head dropping against your shoulder, his fingers digging into your waist. “fuck, i can’t—“

“yes, you can,” you pant, dragging him back into another kiss, messy and wet, both of you whining into each other’s mouths like you’ll die if you stop.

it’s overwhelming—the heat, the pressure, the way your name tumbles from charlie’s lips like he can’t help it, like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

he’s shaking beneath you, gripping at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “please—”

you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, but it doesn’t matter. you just need him—all of him. and judging by the way he’s clinging to you, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps, he feels the exact same way.

© slcmml

[p3achslimes]

when they can’t write three things at once smh 😒

i'd add the hero au but i need . smut i should work on smut. so please lmk what i should work on tonight :3

i also have valentines ideas in mind umm . and perchance one of them includes a bizly fic 👀