so like… what do we think charlie does when you’re sick 😭
charlie slimecicle when you’re sick 𓏲ּ𝄢
warnings ; gn!reader, established relationship, being sick, fluff!!!
a/n ; sorry this took me so long to get back to but thank you for requesting!!!!
charlie is and has always been extremely doting towards you, since the day you met. running to grab something if you mentioned needing it, always having a hand on your leg or your waist, etc. but he goes into overdrive when you’re sick.
curled up in his bed, eyes watery and nose sniffly, you coughed pathetically as he crouched down to your level. “i’m okay, charlie, it’s just the flu. everyone gets it.” you reassured him, hand coming up to curl into his hair. normally, he’d be curled up against your back, kissing your hair and whispering you to sleep. but he had prepared a stream for today- and there was no backing out of it. at least that’s what his friends had told him.
“you’re still sick in my book.” he murmured, leaning into the warmth of your palm. “i can cancel stream for today if you want, angel, everyone’ll be fine without me-”
you shook your head, and his eyes bore gently down on your rosy cheeks nervously. “don’t want you to cancel stuff for me. plus, you promised to do this weeks ago, remember?” you croaked, earning a meek nod from charlie. you shifted underneath the blankets to try and escape the feverish heat crawling up your legs. “you’re too sweet sometimes.”
he pressed a warm kiss to your shoulder, thumb slowly circling your wrist as he leaned in even closer. “i just don’t wanna leave you here alone when you’re so sick. what if you need water or something? or food? you literally wobbled in the kitchen today. i had to catch you.” you giggled- as best you could, anyway. it came out as more of a dry wheeze.
“i can get my own water, char, it’s okay. you’re acting like i’m 90 years old and on my death bed.”
“maybe you are, we don’t know that.” he muttered, his body now half pressed against yours in the bed. you rolled over to face him, nudging his nose with your own.
“i’m not dying, char. i have the flu.” you said hoarsely. “i’ll be okay for the next two hours you’re streaming.” you smiled at him, that warm smile that always made him fold. “i’m not so wobbly anymore.”
“yeah?” he said, kissing you once before propping himself up to look at you. “thank you, baby. y’know i love you.” he gave a quick smooch to your forehead. “just- please don’t vomit on the sheets again.” and before you could protest, his lips were pressed against yours again.
“you’re gonna get sick.” you whispered between kisses against his lips.
“mm. that’s okay.” he whispered back. “maybe then you could baby me back.”
Synopsis:
You and Charlie have been inseparable since high school—best friends, study partners, and maybe something more… until he starts pulling away. By the time you both make it to MIT, he’s built walls you can’t climb: avoiding your touch, dodging hangouts, and showing up with bruises and excuses that don’t add up.
When a campus lockdown traps you in your dorm and Spider-Man himself crashes through your window, you’re faced with an impossible truth—your best friend has been hiding more than feelings. But when Charlie finally admits the reason he’s kept his distance, you realize the one thing he’s feared most… was never a danger to you at all.
A/N: def wrote this instead of working on the next chapter of the current fic but I wanted to put something out for my charlie lovers in honor of his birthday! (even though I didn't finish it till 3:45am the next day...it still counts. I am a spiderman DWEEB and with the new movie in filming this was just heavy on my mind anyways. hope you enjoy, its not proof read lol oh well.
——————————————————————————-
The day you and Charlie found out you’d both been accepted to MIT is carved into your memory.
Nervousness gnawed at you as you stared at the thick envelope in your hands, your name printed across the front like it was mocking you.
Charlie stood shoulder-to-shoulder with you, his own envelope clutched in one hand, his grin equal parts excitement and terror.
“Okay,” he said, voice wavering just enough to make you smile. “Ready?”
You thought you might vomit, but you nodded anyway.
Charlie started the count. “One…”
You swallowed hard, knuckles white around the paper. “Two…”
“Three!” you both exclaimed, fumbling to tear them open.
To be fair, you’d already known Charlie was in-he was a genius (most of the time), the kind of smart you didn’t have to work for. You’d always admired that about him.
You, on the other hand, had been terrified. Math, science-it had never been easy for you. Charlie had carried you through AP classes, tutoring you late into the night, explaining things in ways that made sense to you and you alone.
And now you were frozen, staring at the bold letters:
We are pleased to offer-
“I got in!” Charlie’s voice overtook your senses, bright and unfiltered.
Before you could speak, he was pulling you into a hug, laughter and half-shouted words spilling from him-then he froze mid-celebration.
“Wait, did you-”
You just smiled and nodded, and that was all it took for him to yell again, hugging you even tighter. You both laughed like idiots, clinging to each other in disbelief.
The rest of the day was a blur of slurped Icees, way too much greasy pizza, and playing whatever video game felt celebratory enough.
By the time the clock crept past 1 a.m., Charlie stretched and sighed. “I should probably head home.”
You smirked. “Finally. Thought you’d never leave.”
He scoffed, eyes glinting as he bumped your shoulder. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you need your beauty sleep.”
“Duh,” you said, nose scrunching with your grin. “How else am I supposed to look cute on our first day at MIT if I don’t start now?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and tugged on his jacket. “You’ll look cute either way…” he muttered.
“Huh? What was that?”
His face went red instantly. “Nothing! Just-uh-I’ll see you Monday?”
You walked him to the door. “Goodnight, Charlie. Be careful.”
____
You don’t see Charlie on Monday, to your dismay.
It worries you more than you’d like to admit. You spend the whole day firing off texts between classes, barely focusing enough to scribble down notes, just moving with the current of bodies in the hall.
Nothing. Not even a read receipt.
He’s not there Tuesday, either.
By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re half-distractedly spinning the combination on your locker when you spot him, standing a few feet away at his own. Your chest floods with relief.
“Charlie!”
He jumps like you just shouted in his ear, alarm flashing in his eyes. It makes you slow down a little as you approach.
“You okay? You seem a little…” Your gaze sweeps over him. He’s pale, clammy, shoulders tense like a cornered animal. “Sweaty,” you finally decide.
Charlie gives a quick, awkward laugh, eyes darting to the passing students, never quite meeting yours. “I’m fine. Just came down with something.”
“You never text me back,” you say, frowning.
Normally, when Charlie’s sick, he bombards you with pitiful updates, pictures of himself bundled in three blankets, captions like sickest boy alive, requests for soup delivery.
Not this time.
He clears his throat. “Right, sorry. I was just… really under the weather.”
Still, he won’t look at you, and your nerves tighten in your chest.
“Hey-” You reach for his arm.
Charlie flinches back like you burned him, knocking his head hard into the open locker door. The clang makes you freeze, hand still outstretched, eyes wide.
Your mouth opens, but no words come out.
He stares at you for a beat, panic written all over him, then mutters something about being late for class and bolts, leaving you standing there in the middle of the hallway, hurt and confused.
____
Charlie does an exponential job of avoiding you for the next few weeks-your final weeks of high school.
You still get the occasional “hey” in the hallway, you’re still partnered in AP Chem, and every now and then he throws you a half-hearted joke. But it’s not the same.
There are no more after-school hangouts. No sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by textbooks, laughing at stupid videos. No marathon gaming sessions where he insists he’s “letting you win” even though you both know he’s not.
Every time you ask to hang out, he has an excuse.
“Sorry, I’ve got chores.”
“Sorry, I’ve got practice.”
“Practice for what?”
“Uh-chess club?”
“Chess club denied you at the beginning of the year.”
“Right… uh, I meant checkers.”
“That’s not a real club.”
It would be funny if it didn’t sting so much.
Then, almost out of nowhere, right as the local news is buzzing about some spider-like hero swinging around town, Charlie’s back. Not completely, but enough to feel like a cruel tease.
He’s hanging out again, only flaking sometimes. He’s cracking jokes like before. You’re doing homework together again.
But for some reason, there’s more space between you than ever.
No more lingering glances when you make him laugh. No more casual nudges when he’s trying to tease you. And definitely no more late afternoons lying on his bed while you play with his hair, the two of you talking about nothing and everything.
It’s all gone.
And you don’t know what you did wrong.
It’s eating you alive.
____
Graduation comes and goes.
You’d been convinced this summer would be different. You and your best friend/longtime crush, getting into your dream college? That was a sign from the universe to finally confess, right?
But then Charlie started acting like this, and you just… don’t know anymore.
You see him on and off over the summer. He comes in spurts-like he can only handle being around you in small doses. Hell, sometimes he just leaves in the middle of hanging out, vanishing without warning and leaving you alone in a café or wherever you’d gone together.
It’s getting on your nerves.
_____
The only thing the news ever seems to talk about anymore is the green-suited Spider-Man, notorious now for saving the city on an almost weekly basis. You’re intrigued, and you’ve spent a lot of the time Charlie isn’t around watching videos, interviews, and any shaky bystander footage you can get your hands on.
What fascinates you most is his webs-how strong they are, how they seem to incapacitate even the most dangerous criminals.
A scientist named Dr. Miles Warren recently got hold of a strand, and that’s the video you’re glued to when Charlie walks into your room.
“Hey-”
“Shhhh!” You throw up a finger without looking at him.
On-screen, Dr. Warren explains that chemical tests revealed a paralytic compound coating the silk. In small doses, it numbs the skin and slows muscle response. In large enough amounts, absorbed through exposed skin, it causes complete temporary paralysis, leaving the target unconscious within minutes. The compound seems to break down harmlessly after a few hours; convenient for when police arrive to make the arrest.
“Whatcha watching?” There’s a lilt in Charlie’s voice-forced casual-that makes you glance at him.
“This scientist got hold of one of Spider-Man’s webs.”
Charlie’s eyes widen just enough to catch before he stutters, “O-oh. That’s… uh… cool.”
You hum in agreement, focused back on the screen, while Charlie drags a chair over. He sits-not beside you, but a deliberate foot or two back, like he’s making sure your elbows can’t possibly bump. You can feel the gap like a cold draft.
“What’s he saying about it?” Charlie asks, that same not-quite-natural lilt still in his voice.
You pop a handful of Cheez-Its in your mouth before replying. “Apparently the webs are venomous. That’s why the bad guys are always knocked out when the cops find them.”
Charlie hums, and you catch the quick glint of something in his eyes. “Is there a way to stop them from being venomous? Like… an antidote or something?”
You snort. “Why would you want that? It’s so cool.”
_______
It’s when you start at MIT that the real weird stuff begins.
The last month of summer, Charlie was a ghost. By then, you’d almost gotten used to it; though “used to it” didn’t mean you liked it.
On the first day of class, you’re nervously fiddling with your notebook when the door opens. Charlie walks in.
If you could even call it Charlie.
You do a double take as he heads your way. It hadn’t been that long since you’d last seen him, but maybe just long enough to notice the difference.
Charlie is… buff now.
He wasn’t out of shape before, but this? This was peak hot nerd territory-lean muscle under his t-shirt, shoulders broader, jaw sharper.
You’re in the middle of cussing yourself out for openly ogling him (along with half the other women in the room) when he smiles and sits next to you, leaving that same careful gap between you that had become second nature.
“Hey,” he says, easy and casual.
You sputter like a fish. “Hey? Who are you?”
Charlie laughs. “What do you mean?”
“I mean-” you hiss, glaring at the girls still sneaking glances his way as you lean in to whisper, “What the fuck kind of bimbo potion did you drink?”
Charlie smirks. “Bimbo? Really? I’ve just been… working out, that’s all.”
The hesitation makes your eyebrow twitch. Your mouth runs ahead of your brain. “Really? So the gym is what you’ve been ditching me for all this time?”
Charlie winces, the smile slipping. That invisible wall between you seems to inch higher, thicker.
“I-” he starts, searching your eyes for something.
But the professor claps his hands at the front of the room. “Okay! Everyone!”
You glance toward the board, but you can still feel Charlie’s eyes on you.
--
The next thing you notice about Charlie (aside from the new muscle) is his reflexes.
You and Charlie somehow ended up with the exact same schedule, which is both a blessing and a curse. More time with him… but also more opportunities for him to dodge you. And now, his disappearing acts are starting to bleed into his grades.
The two of you are holed up in the library, bleary-eyed and half-dead, trying to finish these stupid papers.
With a sigh, you push back from the table and grab the oversized reference book you’ve been using.
You wander a few aisles over, the tall bookcases swallowing you up. Balancing on your toes, you half-heartedly shove the book toward its high shelf slot.
It doesn’t go in.
Instead, it tilts forward, gravity taking over, and now it’s falling straight at your face.
You brace for impact.
But it never comes.
Blinking, you find Charlie standing closer than he’s been in months, one hand gripping the book an inch from your nose. You didn’t even hear him approach.
“Uh-you okay?” he asks, sliding the book neatly into place before immediately stepping back again, the space between you snapping back like a rubber band.
“Uh-” you glance from the shelf to him, mind snagging on the distance he would’ve had to cover to get here in time. “Y-yeah. Thanks, Char.”
Something in his expression brightens at the nickname, and for a second you see the old Charlie again. “Just… be careful next time, okay? You’re lucky I caught it.”
You give a nervous laugh. “Yeah… lucky.”
_____
The next incident is just as bewildering.
You and Charlie are cutting across the quad between classes, the late afternoon sun making everything look warmer than it feels. He’s rambling about the lab report due next week, but your mind is elsewhere; half on the smell of kettle corn drifting from somewhere nearby, half on how he’s been acting since the semester started.
Then there’s a sharp whhhffft behind you-fast, close.
Before you can even react, Charlie’s arm shoots out.
And suddenly there’s a frisbee in his hand.
Not a fumble, not a save at the last second-just clean, precise, like he knew exactly where it would be before it got there.
It takes a second for your brain to catch up. “What the-”
He tosses it back with a quick, “Heads up!” to the group across the lawn, then turns to you with an easy smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anyway, like I was saying about the lab-”
“No, no, hold on. How did you see that coming? It was behind me.”
He shrugs, but it’s too quick, too practiced. “Guess I’ve got good reflexes.”
“Good reflexes are for things you see, Charlie. That thing was basically a heat-seeking missile aimed at my head.”
Something flickers in his expression-too fast to name-but his shoulders tense before he forces another smile. “You’re overthinking it. I just got lucky.”
You narrow your eyes at him, suspicion pricking the back of your neck.
He takes a small step ahead, putting just enough distance between you that you have to catch up.
____
The actual concern starts two days later,
he stumbles into one of your classes looking like hell.
“Holy shit, Charlie-” you hiss as he drops into the seat beside you. The ever-present smile is still there, but his glasses are gone and there’s a split in his lip, the skin pink and swollen. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Charlie chuckles nervously. “Just, uh… got into a rumble with the bunk bed this morning. Broke my glasses, too.”
You blink, staring at him. “You what?”
“Yeah, I-uh-it’s a long story.”
It’s clearly a short story, and one he’s not telling, but you’re too tired to dig today. “Well, be more careful,” you mutter, turning toward the front.
You don’t mean to, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. He’s running his tongue over the cut-again and again, a slow drag along the inside of his lip.
Finally you snap. “Quit that-”
Charlie jumps, startled. “What-quit what?” he asks under his breath.
“That.” You narrow your eyes as he does it again. “You’re gonna reopen it.”
For a moment, he just blinks at you, caught, flustered. “O-oh. Right. Sorry.”
He keeps his eyes on the board after that, shoulders tight, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re watching him come apart at the seams… and he’s trying like hell to keep you from seeing it.
____
The concern finally spills over on a day that’s supposed to be normal. You and Charlie are grabbing lunch before class, sitting on a bench just off the campus green.
You’re halfway through an impassioned rant about how unfairly your professor graded your research paper when Charlie freezes mid-bite of his chicken club.
At first you don’t notice, too busy poking at your own salad. But then, from the corner of your eye, you see him reach for you, hesitate, and pull his hand back like he’s thought better of it.
The shift in your attention is instant.
And the look on his face makes your pulse spike.
You’ve never seen Charlie look like this. Serious. Afraid.
His gaze darts over your shoulder, scanning the park. It’s mostly empty.
When he leans in, he’s closer than he’s been in months, voice so low you almost miss it.
“Listen to me very carefully. I need you to go, run back to your dorm and don’t come out until you hear from me. Okay?”
Your mouth goes dry. “Charlie, wha-”
“Just please.” His eyes change-panic burning there now, wild and urgent. “Please listen to me. The campus will be on lockdown soon, you need to-”
BOOM.
The sound rips through the quiet air, deep and distant, like something heavy collapsing.
You and Charlie both freeze.
BOOM.
Your stomach twists. “Charlie… what is that?” you whisper, goosebumps prickling your skin.
BOOM.
“You have to go. Now.” He stands abruptly, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
“But-”
BOOM. Closer this time.
“GO. NOW!”
You flinch at the sharpness in his tone, but your body is already moving-feet pounding in the opposite direction as Charlie.
And even as the space between you grows, it feels like your heart stays planted right where he’s standing.
___
And that’s how you got here.
The power in your dorm has been out for what feels like hours, and the darkness presses in like a thick blanket. You’re curled on the bed, knees pulled up, your phone gripped so tightly your knuckles ache. It’s the only light in the room-the only connection to the outside world.
Charlie was right. The lockdown hit just minutes after you’d bolted through your door.
You refresh the campus website again, your eyes burning from the constant cycle-site, messages, site, messages. Waiting. Hoping.
Questions tumble through your head too fast to catch.
Some have answers.
Most don’t.
Why lockdown? The website says “unknown threat on school grounds.”
Who’s the threat? You’d flipped the TV to the news just before the blackout. A man-Electro, he’d called himself-stood on-screen, draining the campus power grid like it was nothing.
What did Electro want? Spider-Man.
Why would Spider-Man be at MIT? No clue.
Is Charlie okay? God, you hope so.
How did he know something was coming? Some insane instinct-
Unless-
Your pulse spikes. No. No, there’s no way.
No way Charlie is-
CRASH.
You jolt, heart slamming against your ribs.
Then-a low, pained groan.
You creep toward the toward the edge of the bed, peering over it like a frightened child.
He’s there.
Spider-Man.
Charlie.
The black-and-green of his suit catches the faint, storm-grey light pouring through the shattered window. Shards of glass glint around him, sticking to the fabric as he shifts.
He groans again, trying to push himself up, but his knees give, dropping him back to the floor.
“Hey-” his voice is shaky, distorted under the mask. “Sorry ’bout the-uhg-mess.”
You stand frozen, staring at the wide grey eyes of the mask.
“Are you a fucking psychopath?” It bursts out of you, sharp and too loud, voice cracking under the mix of fear and anger.
He stills. One hand clamps over his ribs, the other hanging at an odd angle, shoulder clearly injured. “Uh-I said sorry?”
You start toward him, ready to spit every question in your head-then stop. The blood seeping between his fingers is dark against the green, and the air smells faintly of singed fabric.
The fear creeps in alongside your frustration.
You turn away. “Come on. I’ll clean you up.”
“What-no! I… I didn’t mean to-”
“Charlie.” Your tone is firm.
He freezes, surprised but he doesn’t argue. Just follows you into the bathroom, his movements slow, dragging.
The only light is your phone’s flashlight, propped on the counter, cutting pale stripes across the tile. You guide him onto the toilet while you perch on the edge of the tub, first aid kit open beside you.
“Will you take off the mask?” you ask quietly.
A pause. Then he peels it away.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, face mottled with bruises, dried blood at his nose and mouth. And it’s so painfully, undeniably Charlie that your chest aches.
You open an alcohol wipe, reach for him-and he flinches, eyes flashing with something close to panic.
“You can’t!” The words are loud in the small room. Then, softer, “You can’t touch me.”
The sting of rejection twists in your chest. You let your hand fall. “Fine. Do it yourself.”
You leave him in the dim bathroom, rummage for the flashlight in your closet, and start sweeping up the glass in the bedroom. The sound of each shard clinking into a pile keeps you from thinking too hard.
The lights flick back on without warning.
You look up-and freeze.
Charlie stands in the middle of your room in nothing but boxers, his skin a patchwork of bruises and scars. His ears are red as he avoids your gaze.
“I, uh… I can’t-” he gestures over his shoulder and turns.
You suck in a breath. A deep gash runs from between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back, raw and ugly. Smaller scars scatter across his skin like constellations.
He starts to mumble, “N-neverm-”
“No!” you squeak, then quickly steady your voice. “No. I’ll help.”
He glances at you, accidentally making eye contact. His ears turn an even darker red. “Do… do you have gloves?”
The question knocks something loose in your chest, but you nod.
A few minutes later, you’re in the bathroom, latex gloves pulled snug over your hands.
Charlie sits backwards on the toilet, the curve of his spine catching the faint light, muscles tense.
Alcohol pads won’t touch damage like this, so you layer gauze thick and pour isopropyl alcohol over it. The sharp smell fills the air, prickling your nose.
You hold your breath as you press the first swab to his back.
Charlie hisses at the sting, back arching away from you, his fingers curling tight in his lap.
“Sorry,” you murmur, guilt tugging at your chest.
“No-” his voice cracks. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
You open your mouth to argue, but he keeps going.
“I should have told you.”
You frown. “Charlie…”
He turns suddenly, the gash forgotten, and his eyes… God, they look wrung out. Tired in the way only someone who’s been hiding a secret for too long can be.
“I hated keeping it from you,” he says, voice shaking. “Hated putting this wall between us. But I didn’t know what else to do.” His eyes glass over and his head falls into his hands.
Your own vision blurs.
“You have no idea how many times I wanted to tell you everything,” he says, breath hitching. “How many times I just wanted to hold you and not have to think about it anymore…”
He drags in a shaky breath, meets your eyes, and the ache there nearly undoes you.
“But I can’t.”
The words tear at something inside you. “Why not?” It comes out too desperate, so you soften. “Why not, Charlie?”
He stares down at his open hands like they’re foreign to him. “Since the bite… I think I’m dangerous. My hands-they make this substance-”
The pieces slam together in your mind. “The venom. In your webs?”
His gaze snaps up, startled. “You-how do you…?”
The words of that scientist run through your head.
You lean closer. “Charlie… you think it’s in your skin too, don’t you? That if you touched me-”
“That I could hurt you,” he admits, voice breaking. “Kill you, maybe. I-”
You peel off the gloves, the latex snapping faintly in the silence, and slide your bare hand into his before he can move away.
“Wait-no!” he starts, trying to pull back.
You hold on tighter, reaching for his forearm with your other hand, anchoring him there. “Charlie. Listen to me.”
His eyes search yours-worried, scared, and beneath it all, something else. Something that’s been there all along.
“It’s venom,” you say softly, like you’re coaxing him toward a truth.
His brows pinch. “What?”
“It’s venom, Charlie. Not poison.”
He blinks, lost.
You can see him thinking, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth like he’s afraid to believe you. “Spiders are venomous…” he murmurs.
You hum in encouragement. “That’s right. You know what that means?”
He shakes his head.
“It means venom is injected-like into your webs. Poison is secreted. If your skin were poisonous, you’d hurt people just by being near them. Just by breathing next to them. You’d have poisoned me a hundred times over by now.”
Charlie freezes. You watch the truth click into place, his mind turning it over, testing it against all the fear he’s been holding.
“You mean…?”
“I mean you’re not a danger to me.” You smile, letting him see how sure you are. “You never were.”
And that’s when his whole face shifts-relief flooding in so bright it feels like the air changes-and before you can take another breath, his mouth is on yours.
It’s clumsy, by Spider-Man standards-uncoordinated and almost hesitant, like he’s still not sure he’s allowed-but it’s warm and desperate and Charlie, and that’s all that matters.
You melt into it, fingers finding the edge of his jaw, chasing his lips when he starts to pull away.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmurs, still so close you can feel the words against your mouth.
You laugh, the sound unsteady but real, teasing glint in your eyes. “Oh yeah? You weren’t exactly subtle.”
Charlie groans, the tips of his ears going pink as he pulls you closer. “What? I was the best at hiding it.”
“Sure,” you say, grinning, “the best.”
You finish dressing his wounds, wrapping the last strip of gauze around his ribs with careful hands. When you’re done, you rummage through your dresser until you find them-an old pair of his sweatpants you’d “borrowed” months ago. They’re a little snug on him now, stretching over muscle that didn’t used to be there, but they work better than anything of yours.
Then you’re both crawling into your bed, the world outside momentarily forgotten. He sinks into the pillow beside you, arm sliding around your waist, pulling you in until there’s no space left. You kiss lazily, like neither of you is in any hurry for it to end.
Eventually, you settle with him half on top of you, his head pillowed against your chest. Your fingers comb idly through his hair, the rhythm soothing, grounding.
He talks in a low voice, almost like he’s afraid to break the quiet-about Electro, about the Green Goblin, about a half-dozen other villains whose names sound like bad comic book jokes until you remember the bruises and the burn marks.
And for the first time in months, there’s no distance. No walls. Just you, Charlie, and the steady beat of his heart against your ribs.
____
The morning light creeps across the bed, catching on the jagged edges of your broken window and spilling pale gold across Charlie’s bare shoulder. The breeze drifting in is cool, but the heat of him pressed against you keeps it from biting.
He’s still half-asleep, hair sticking up like he fought another villain in his dreams. You run your fingers through it and watch his nose scrunch before he blinks blearily up at you.
“Morning,” you whisper.
“Mhm,” he hums, eyes closing again. “Still alive?”
You smirk. “Barely. The draft’s killing me.”
He cracks one eye. “What draft?”
You tilt your head toward the glass pile by the wall. “You know-you’re fixing that window. With your own money. I’m charging you for emotional damages, too.”
Charlie groans into the pillow. “You’re impossible.”
“You broke it, Spider-B&E,” you say, grinning.
He laughs softly and rolls onto his back, stretching before tucking his arm behind his head. “Fine. But I’m warning you, last time I tried home repairs, I fell off a roof.”
You raise a brow. “Spider-Man fell off a roof?”
“It was early days!” He’s grinning now. “First time I tried to web-swing, I didn’t tie it off right. Let go to wave at a guy on the street and-bam-straight into a dumpster.”
You snort, covering your face. “Please tell me someone saw.”
“Two tourists and a hot dog vendor. Got a round of applause.”
He keeps going, voice warm and easy: about crawling up the wrong side of a building and ending up stuck in a stairwell, about overshooting a swing and crashing into someone’s balcony during dinner, about getting his foot stuck to the ceiling once and having to take his shoe off to get down.
You laugh until your cheeks hurt, curled into him while his hand traces lazy shapes on your hip. The broken window’s still there, the campus may be a wreck, but the space between you is gone.
"please get off my lap."
"but you're so much prettier from this angle."
with chuckle sammy + will (and dreamy weamy if not its ok)
i had so much fun writing this :’) i went OVERBOARD.
schlatt- it was one of those normal work days for him; editing and playing the same clip over and over again until he deemed it perfect. you, on the other hand, found this pointless and decided to go bother him.
“jayyyyyy”
he wouldn’t even move, knowing your exact objective. he’d just let out one of those disappointed parental sighs. you’d peer into the room and quietly patter into the once spare bedroom that was now schlatt’s streaming/editing/whatever-else room. as you walked up behind him, you placed both of your palms firmly onto his shoulders and nuzzled your cheek into his, now longer, hair. inhaling deeply, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.
“i’m busy.”
he knew he couldn’t keep you off for long after you let out a pitiful whine. schlatt let out a sigh as his eyes fluttered closed and spun around in his chair to face you. he stared at you with an inquisitive look. you smiled, knowing you had gotten your way as your eyes flickered down to his lap, then back up to his. he shook his head.
“toots, i’m busy.”
he could repeat it until the end of time as you climbed into his lap. he gave in reluctantly as one arm wrapped around the small of your back to keep you steady. as he attempted to finish his video, you whined impatiently as you played with the neckline of his t-shirt.
“can you please get off my lap? you’re distracting me.”
“but you’re so much prettier from this angle”
he couldn’t argue with that.
charlie- as you got ready for bed, you could hear charlie humming to himself in the bedroom. just as you had finished brushing your teeth, you trotted into the bedroom and sat on the bed. you observed charlie as he tidied up the room, still humming to himself. as he laid down beside you, the humming ceased and his head plopped into your lap, his arms behind his head. you chuckled and pressed a lingering kiss to the center of his forehead. when you pulled away, you found him gazing at you. his eyes were so full of love; an adoring grin gracing his lips.
“char, you’ve got to get your head out of my lap, it’s bed time.”
he just continued to look at you as he formulated the perfect thing to say.
“but you look so pretty from this angle- n-not that you don’t look pretty all the time, im just saying that-“
you shut him up with a kiss.
ted- ted was all about domestic moments with you; everything from cooking dinners to going on dates that gave him butterflies though you had been together for years. tonight was movie night, yet you had other plans. instead of watching the movie that ted was very much interested in, you were gazing at him. the way his nose sloped down and was so cute. the way his eyes gleamed in the light of the television. he was perfect. just as you were bathing in his features, you didn’t realize how close you had gotten to him; your face inches away from his cheek. you pressed a small kiss to it and crawled into his lap for better access. before you could go any further, ted chuckled and tried to push you away, his view obstructed.
“honey pot, i can’t see. you’ve got to get off.”
you pouted and stood your ground as you pressed lingering kisses all along his face and down his neck.
“you.” kiss “just.” kiss “look.” kiss “so.” kiss “pretty.” kiss “from here.”
ted smiled and chuckled breathlessly, before taking his glasses off and sliding them onto the table. he laid down and pulled you with him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.
he really didn’t care if he missed the movie.
wilbur- will was a sunday morning enjoyer. he’d have his old battered book in one hand and the other drawing mindless shapes across your half asleep figure in bed. just as he was about to flip the page with his hand on you, you whined and pulled it back down. he looked at you for a moment, piecing your features together, before showing a gentle smile and placing his book down on the bed.
“s’wrong, love?”
his voice was sweet and like caramel; dripping from his lips ever-so gently. you could just melt as his hand continued moving across your collarbones and shoulders mindlessly. you huffed and nodded your head to his lap.
“i’m almost done with this chapter, not now, alright?”
you let out a whine in protest as he chuckled quietly and picked his book back up, the movements on your chest growing lazy. you knew you could push him. you scooted your head into his lap, gazing up at him from underneath his book. your eyes shined like stars; he was beautiful. wilbur let out a lighthearted sigh as he set his book down once again;
“darling, d’ya mind getting your head off my lap?”
you just shook your head, your eyes flickering to his slightly parted lips, then back up to his caramel eyes.
[fluff] Slimecicle x f!reader, reader is a die hard tangled fan, 1 year old draft, cliché moments.
[n/a]: im not kidding this draft was a year ago oops.
Im cringing soo bad to this i hooe u guys r too
You both decided to do a karaoke stream cause you love singing disney songs together while eating some sweets that was made earlier in the stream.
Excusing yourself to chat and charlie to go to the bathroom, and once you left he queued the song 'I See The Light' on his computer while chat curiously ask questions on why he's being sneaky.
Charlie just looks at the camera and does a 'shh' motion with his pointer finger and says "I have something planned so be quiettttt" while he presses his pointer finger harsher on his lips and slowly moves closer and closer to the camera until it's just his eye showing on the screen.
He hears the door open from the bathroom and hurriedly grabs the microphone he's been using and pretends that he's been singing "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" from the show Mulan. He then drops to his knees dramatically as the final note of the song is being sung by the character on the screen, earning a laugh from you.
A few moments passes and you didn't realize that you've both been singing your hearts out for the past three minutes with all the songs that charlie queued.
A comforting thought pops up in your mind. Charlie really does know you alot about you now that you've been together for three years. All your favourite songs, and deserts you love to snack on, and even the microphone is your favorite color. You can't help but look at him with awe.
Charlie noticed you looking at him and rather than acting calm as to not foil his plan, he can't help but wipe his glasses repeatedly because of his heavy breath fogging the glasses.
He tries desperately to keep his cool. He pats his lap to calm himself down and even puts his hands on his pockets so he doesn't worry about his nervousness being obvious due to his hands acting weird.
But then the song comes up which is the 'I See The Light' by Tangled. You grinned so wide your cheecks might've hurt just from that. You pat Charlie's back multiple times in a row because of your excitement of hearing this song so randomly out of the blue (ts not a coincidence bro).
The intro rolls in and you sang your solo part first, remembering the song like you're an actual disney princess and that the words just flew right out of your lips. You made guestures throughout it showing your love for this particular song and how much it means to you.
You have always dreamed of having an engagement or a wedding that is as beautiful as the grand and sentimental guestures that men do to their female counter parts in both books and film.
And with this song, you think you can indulge in your own imagination.
Unbeknownst to you, you didn't need to.
As you continue to sing passionately, Charlie's part came,
"All those days chasing down a daydream"
"All those years living in a blur"
He looked at you with nothing else but with pure heartfelt love and devotion. You really do love him, even from the days where he isn't particularly as energetic as he appears on most of his streams, you hugged him and let him recharge his energy.
To the days he couldn't get up from his bed because of the constant overthinking he has been doing on his own head about his youtube carrer and whether or not he'd be able to make it.
At that time you only said one thing to him, and that was "Yes you will make it, and no you will not back out just because you think you can't" you held him in between your hands and the look in his eyes seemed to calm. "You can make it, because I believe that you can." You looked at him making sure that he understood what you're trying to tell him, and then you continued, "If you find it hard to believe in yourself then let me believe for you".
Looking at him now, him holding a pink microphone on his left hand while he holds your hand with his other. You two are just moving your body from left to right in a slow pace. He looks good than he did before, more confident, more free, but still as dashing as ever.
He looks at you now, waiting for the chorus to hit. He strikes a smile and looks directly into your eyes and sang the lines with you.
"And at last I see the light"
"And it's like the fog has lifted"
"And at last I see the light"
"And it's like the sky is new"
"And it's warm and real and bright"
"And the world has somehow shifted"
you and charlie looked at each other like true fairytale lovers.
The next part of the song was where it all started to happen. The looks, and smiles and that goddamn final notes.
"All at once, everything is different"
"Now that I see you"
He looks at you, about to do the same guesture as what Flin does in the movie.
He reaches you to tuck your hair behind your ears while he's still lokking at your eyes.
And as the melody slows, the last note of the song plays. It's your favourite part out of the whole song cause its so intimate and beautiful.
"Now that I see you"
Charlie looks deep into your eyes, reminding you how beautiful this part is.
He broke your gaze and tucks your hair behind your ears and swiftly turned his head to the side for a quick second.
He looks back to you and brought a box infront of your vision using the same hand he tucked your hair with.
A red box that he opened slowly while he got down on his knees.
He's looking at your reaction to his sudden verbal confession.
He drags out the last word of the song and waited patiently for you to react.
"What is happening?" You asked hesitantly, not sure if this is a skit or if it is even real and not just one of your over the top dream scenarios.
"You've been my best friend for so long and I'm glad- no im THRILLED actually haha." he huffs out a laugh, at his own words and nervousness.
"Im so happy that you let me prove to you how much i actually feel for you. It's such a privilege to even have you in my life." His voice cracked right here, he can't believe that he's doing this and, he can't believe that he can tell you all of this now.
"You made me a better person than who i initially was. I wouldn't have started streaming because of you. If I didn't met you, my life would've turned out to be much more miserable compared to now." He smiled and wiped the tears that are now rushing down from your eyes. He took a deep breath and continued.
"So, im asking you this now because im sure. I want you in my life, not just as an acquaintance, or as a friend, but as a lovely partner. Would you give me the honour of being your dashingly handsome husband?" He guestured to his face jokingly while eagerly awaiting your response.
✂ ┈ then i hope they slept together, (oh, the less i know the better).┈
⚲ junior year, your dorm. present day.
a snort escaped your lips. "you're not cutting your hair, dalgeish."
oh, but he was. charlie was dead set on shaving his fucking head because the basketball team had made it to state, and to hit the nail on the coffin, to dye his blond as well. a bleached buzz. because "that's what his buddies were doing" and "team spirit's important, michelangelo!"
you wrestled charlie (which was an arduous task because of how beefy he'd gotten from basketball) out of the doorway and barked, "sit down." you firmly pointed to the couch.
charlie looked around, presumably to see if anyone was about to see him crumble into pieces at two words, and then politely sat, looking up at you expectantly.
an art major with an interest in hairstyling, you were apalled at charlie's idea that he was going to chop off his beautiful, long brown locks. "you can't shave your head!" you stammer, putting your hands on his shoulders and shaking him harshly. "pleaseplease, charlie!"
he frowned. "but me and the team are gonna cut our hair short... for state..." he mumbled weakly, flashing his signature puppy dog eyes at you.
"well..." your brow furrowed as you studied charlie's expression. he had a determined look on his face, his jaw tilted upwards and his gaze unflinching. "let me cut it, then. if you have to."
charlie blinked. "really? you'd do that for me?"
"sure," you sigh, putting a hand on his back and leading him into your bathroom you shared with your roommate, emma.
he lit up like a kid on christmas. the benefits of having a best friend who had a knack for cutting hair was a good haircut every single time. and, of course, if they fucked up your hair, you could always make them regret it.
but charlie trusted you. maybe because he was fascinated by your hair. long and brunete, which he'd peel back to find the blonde and pink pieces under it, like a little surprise. often, when you two were sitting on the couch (you scribbling away in your sketchbook, him stretching his legs out after practice), he'd run his fingers through your hair.
"hey, michelangelo. ya think you could do my hair like yours?" an easy grin spread across his face as he wrapped a lazy arm around your shoulder, giving you a noogie.
you scoffed, but a smile wormed its way onto your face. "no way. you couldn't pull it off." charlie chuckled. "can you grab that chair for me?" you gesture to your desk chair, adjacent to your desk covered with ink smudges and half-finished easels.
he nodded, scooping up one of the chairs and holding it on his shoulder. "where d'ya want it?" he chirped, placing it down right in front of the sink, as you said.
"sit," you smiled, patting the chair gently as he immediately tossed himself onto the swivel chair. "okay, so, how short do you want it? i can't give you a buzzcut, though. 's morally wrong." as you chatted to him, you absentmindedly ran your hands through his hair, ruffling it up as to envision what you were about to chop off.
charlie put a finger to his chin, tapping gently. "short, but a little left on the sides and the front. can you do that, barber?"
giggling, you nodded. "mhm." your hand turned to the left, turning on the gushing noise of your kitchen sink. your fingers dipped into the dripping water, testing out the temperature. it was lukewarm, maybe on the warmer side.
you picked up a pair of kitchen scissors and started hacking away, pausing every few minutes to tilt his head or change your position. eventually, after about an hour, your masterpiece was done.
charlie lifted his head out of the sink, shaking his head like a wet dog and running his fingers through his hair to fluff it up. he glanced over his shoulder, staring at himself in the mirror. his hair framed his face now, and he looked much more clean and put together.
"wowza, michelangelo. you actually did..." he paused, his mouth moving but no words coming out. "great. thank you." he turned to you, the smile on his face as big as ever.
it reminded you of when you first met him.
divider credits @cafekitsune
athlete!charlie belongs to @slimeypaws !! go check jay out please <3 what a lovely guy
Wait!! Hear me out!!! Charlie doing a heart rate monitor stream!!! And then reader, his partner, uses this to their advantage.
Heartstopper - Charlie x GN!Reader
summary: the ask !!
warnings: none!
tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @vibestillaxxx , @haunted-headset (ask to be added!)
word count: 252
It was always quite obvious how flustered Charlie got around you, but outside of the comfort of your own relationship, nobody knew. Yes, his fans knew you were together, but they never saw the effect you had on the poor boy.
Today however he decided to do a heart rate monitor stream, having his viewers tweet out videos to get his heart rate up.
Most people did jumpscares, audios that were way too loud, etc. But they didn’t really work.
You had been watching the stream for a bit, wanting it to end already so you could steal his attention. And then a brilliant idea crossed your mind.
You made your way into his office, knocking as you opened the door. “Hey, Charlie.” You smiled and walked over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your gaze immediately finding the heart rate on the screen.
“Whatcha doin’?” You spoke softly, smiling as the rate began to increase, a light blush forming on his face. “Streaming.. thought you’d be watching.” He raised his brows at you, his tone slightly confused and flustered.
You simply shrugged, before leaning down and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. This was the key.
His heart rate practically shot up, his face burning red. You weren’t sure if it was your actions, or the fact thousands of people were watching.
“Now you gotta end the stream, I’ll see you in a bit.” You patted his shoulder, before exiting the room, leaving him a complete flustered and smiling mess.
Charlie Slimecicle x Reader Meet Cute, Friends to Lovers || 1k words
you're new in town, looking for new things to do on a friday night
you see an ad for a local drive-in theater and decide to check it out
the lot is pretty much empty except for a few families, one couple already making out, and some rowdy teenagers
heading to the snack bar, the cute employee behind the register has fluffy brown hair, sleek blue glasses, and a bright smile
his nametag says 'Charlie'
you flash Charlie a smile, "can i get a large popcorn and a blue raspberry slushy please?"
"i'm sorry, ma'am. the slushy machine is broken, the repairman is supposed to come next week," he says apologetically while filling a large bucket with popcorn.
"what a bummer, was really looking forward to it."
"sorry again, ma'am. how about a twix on the house for the trouble," he says with a lopsided grin.
"oh, you're too sweet," you say as you take the popcorn and the candybar, sliding a $10 bill across and turning back to your car
"wait, ma'am! your change!" charlie shouts after you
"your tip!" you say over your shoulder with a wink, "and for the twix!"
after the movie, you wave bye to charlie as you drive out the parking lot
...
you're back again the following week to watch the new D&D movie
you make your way to the snack shack
charlie spots you and grins
"hey again! are you here to watch the Dungeons and Dragons movie? unless you're here to watch the Paw Patrol movie -- no judgement! -- that's on screen 2 on the other side."
you chuckle, "as cool as Paw Patrol sounds, i'm here to watch the new D&D movie."
"awesome, awesome... do you play?" Charlies asks
you debate how you should answer... what if he thinks you're a total geek?? "yeah, i played a lot in college and that's how i met most of my friends"
he looks at you like you hung the moon, "that's so cool, i play too!"
you smile back about to continue the conversationg when the wide white screen in front of the lot flashes the intro credits of the movie
"so i'll get a large popcorn and a blue raspberry slushy please"
“yup, right away! actually…” Charlie paused, “the slushy might be a minute but I can bring it to your car. the black toyota camry, right?”
you smile, "yeah. i didn’t realize they did delivery here. will you be on rollerskates, too?” you joke
"oh god, no. i don’t think my uncoordinated body could handle wheels on my feet.” charlie hands you the popcorn bucket and holds his hand out for the cash which you place in his palm.
say thanks and head back to your car
20 minutes later, you're shoveling popcorn into your mouth when you hear a knock at your window
you roll it down to see Charlie holding your slushy up
you squint in the dark and see that his arms are splotched with blue syrup, his hair is matted down on one side, and the front of his uniform is stained in more blue.
"your slushy, ma'am" he says with an exasperated smile. he's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in quick beats
you accept the sticky cup and the straw
"oh my gosh what happened? did you lose a fight to a smurf?" you giggle
Charlie scratched the back of his head then grimaced at the sticky nature of his hair
"ha... no... i, uh, the repairman never came by today and i would hate for you to not get your long awaited slushy.”
your heart flutters
"thanks for going through the trouble, Charlie"
he gives a thumbs up and an awkward smile then heads back to the concessions stand, leaving a blue raspberry scent.
...
the next week you're back despite not really caring for the current movie showings
you only wanted to see a certain employee
you deflate when you see a different person at the concessions stand, a teenage girl scrolling through her phone barely offering you a glance when you walk up to the counter
you get your large popcorn and blue slushy
they're playing some new romcom, or maybe it's an action film... whatever, you're half-watching it. staying just so you don't waste the $15 you spent on the ticket
15 minutes into the movie, a car pulls up in the spot next to you on your left
you roll your eyes, the lot's so empty and there are 20 spaces that person could've chosen
you're about to turn the ignition and pull into another parking spot when you catch Charlie in the driver's seat of the car waving at you through the passenger window
you smile and roll down your window
he does the same, "hey, funny seeing you here"
"i was getting worried that you got sucked into the slushy machine" you joke and he laughs
he points to the movie screen showing the main characters having their meet-cute in the coffeeshop "what did i miss?"
you wave your hand, "oh, uh, a girl moved from the big city to a small town in Wyoming? or i think she relocated to Texas for work..." you sigh, "honestly, i have not been paying attention"
charlie smiles at you
"well, if you're bored of the movie... would you like to do something else?"
you pause, waiting for him to say more. is he about to ask you out???
red creeps up his neck and his eyes flitter everywhere except yours, "how about dinner? there's a new thai restaurant down the road."
you look at him with wide eyes, "like... a date? together?"
please say yes
"well..." he looks like he's about to combust "yes. yeah. a date."
he finally meets your eyes and looks at you expectantly
"i would love to."
he grins and lets go of the breath he wasn't aware he was holding
he turns the ignition and slowly drives toward the exit and you follow suit
trailing behind his car down the street, you catch a faint "YES!" followed by the silhouette of Charlie fist pumping
...
you and Charlie's second date is at the drive-in theater in his car
you guys just make out in the backseat the entire time
A/N: thanks for reading my first... whatever you call this. blurb? headcannons? i was torturing myself trying to write this out as a full narrative fanfic but decided that bullet points were better than nothing haha.
Long time lurker turned poster lol
Feel free to send me any requests for Slimecicle and JSchlatt :) I'll try my best.
★ charlie who lovessss showing you off. he’s obsessed with you and wants everyone to know you’re his and he’s yours. he posts you on his social media more than himself — every other post is you. you and him in matching cosplay, a mirror selfie of you and him out shopping, a candid photo he took of you while you were laughing at something he said. he always captions the posts with something cheesy like ‘my wife’ or ‘the art of being funny.’ when he hard launched you for the first time, it was a photo of you at an art gallery with the caption ‘all this beautiful art and yet she’s the only thing I can look at.’ half the comments thought it was corny and the other half thought it was cute, you were in the latter of course!
★ charlie who calls you angel like it’s your name. he can’t help himself! it just slips out at the end of all his sentences without him even thinking about it. it’s always “I miss you, angel” when you’re on the phone with him, or “c’mere, angel,” when he’s half asleep with you next to him and he wants you impossibly closer. it’s “do you want me to get that for you, angel?” when you’re out shopping and he notices you looking a little too long at an expensive necklace. it’s a murmured “thank you, angel” when you bring him a glass of water while he’s streaming — chat blows up and he ignores them, pretending not to see the multiple messages from stunned chatters; ‘did he just call her angel?!’ and continuing with the game like nothing happened (he’s secretly trying not to look too proud of himself)
★ charlie who gets really really clingy sometimes…especially when he’s tired. you’ll get home from work and he’ll push his arms around your waist while you’re taking your shoes off. “you’re getting in the way, charlie,” you’ll say, attempting and failing to hang up your bag because he won’t let go of you, his arms locked tight around your waist and his face buried in your neck. “don’t care,” he’ll mumble. you sigh dramatically (happy he can’t see the reluctant grin tugging at your lips) and give up, letting your bag slip to the floor as you twist to hug him back and bury your hands in his hair. he practically whines, tugging you into him and then half carrying you over to the couch where he doesn’t let you get up for a good half hour.
★ charlie who loves when your wear his clothes. it does something to him that he can’t quite explain but makes his heart buzz anyway. you steal his nerdy tshirts all the time to wear around the house; charlie loves how they look on you and sneaks a photo of you every time. unbeknownst to you, he’s got an entire folder on his phone of you wearing his stuff. if you’re out with him and you get cold he’ll never hesitate to give you his hoodie, in fact he sometimes hopes you’ll forget a sweater just so he can give you his. he even gets a kick out of seeing you wear his gaming headphones — something about seeing you wear something of his makes him even crazier about you than he already is!
