better than sleeping pills πγ
€Χ ππ
βΛΰΏ pairing: charlie walker x fem! reader
βΛΰΏ NSFW !! you are in control of the content you consume, read contents carefully
βΛΰΏ contents: sub! charlie, dom! reader, insomnia, pretty vanilla, handjob, non ghostface au, charlie is stupid, very fluffy, lots of consent, love confessions, dialogue heavy (i'm sorry), lowercase intended, a little aftercare,
βΛΰΏ alternative title: charlie walker's wholesome handjob
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charlie walker is what you could call a self-proclaimed insomniac. his sleep schedule was simply terrible. the world was simply quieter during the wee hours of the night; less overwhelming.
he'd stay up well past midnight versed in the latest films he rented from redbox. or, if not that, staring a hole into his computer writing a deep analysis about the film he just watched.
tonight had been especially bad. the alarm clock on his messy bedside table red 2:17 am. not that that was particularly late for him, but the previous night's sleep had been a mere four hours, and day sleeping simply wasn't in him. needless to say, he was exhausted.
it was the kind of exhaustion that prevents you from falling asleep at all. it was too quiet, his bed no longer comfortable. it was nearly enough to make him shed frustration tears. with a heavy sigh, he reaches for his phone. it was laughable to think anyone would be up at this hour. he sifts through his contacts.
robbie was out of town for the weekend and he wasn't close enough to anyone else in film club to bother them. he scrolls past acquaintances and old crushes he wouldn't dare call at such a late hour. but then he reaches your contact. you had been his friend since your kindergarten days. you always shared fruit snacks with him, chose to be his project buddy time and time again. and as you grew up, he was half shocked you didn't leave him behind for cooler, more popular friends. in his mind you were perfect for it. you were pretty, you got along with anyone, you were everything he wasn't. but you still came back to him anyway. you sat with him during lunch hour, invited him to hang out with your cool new friends. there was always a fluttery feeling in his stomach when you were around, but he shoved it far, far down. you were his childhood friend, he's not supposed to want you like that.
even so, he dials your number. it rings, and rings, and rings. just before he can hang up, though, you pick up the phone.
"char?" you begin sleepily, "why're you calling me this late?"
"i... i'm sorry i just- fuck- i can't sleep." he apologizes, hoping you won't be too mad at him.
"you feeling okay? are you sick?" you ask. the soft concern in your voice makes him want to sob.
"i'm just... overtired, maybe? i've been trying to go to sleep, but i can't. i need company."
"do you want to come over? my mom's out for the weekend with her boyfriend, so you can stay the night if you want." you offer.
"no- i couldn't- i can't ask that of you. y'know i, uh, i won't bother you anymore." he stammers.
"char, babe. come over. i don't mind. if it'll help at all, i want you here." you insist.
"okay, um, i'll be there in fifteen."
"take your time, i'll get some extra blankets and pillows for you. drive extra safe, 'kay?"
"bye, char." you hang up the phone.
suddenly, his heart is beating one hundred times a minute. he'd never been invited over to a girl's house. he inhales deeply. you're just friends, you have been for a long time. you don't like him like that, you're only trying to help. with shaking hands, he packs a simple overnight back. toothbrush and toothpaste, pajamas, underwear, socks, anything he can remember. he takes his phone and keys from the bedside table, and walks down the stairs and out the front door.
the drive to your house is short and quiet. he fights back frustrated, tired tears the whole way there. and the suburban streets of woodsboro aren't exactly well lit, either. just charlie, his headlights, and a prayer to not fall asleep at the wheel.
thankfully, though, the drive was only a mere ten minutes. he parked his car a bit carelessly at the curbβ the front right wheel a bit too far away from the curb and the back right wheel up to the sidewalk.
hauling his backpack onto his shoulder, he walks up the steps to your front door. his hand hovers over the doorbell, hesitant to press it. what kind of man bothers a girl this late at night? even so, he presses it. the familiar jingle of your doorbell echoes inside your house, and it makes him cringe. thankfully you were the only one home; had your mom been home too he would've gotten an earful.
the doorbell jolts you from your partial daze. you jog to the alarm system set up in the downstairs hall closet and disarm it. you fumble with the front door locks but manage to get it open.
"char, hi. come in." you place a hand on his lower back, guiding him into your house.
"thank you for, uh, letting me come over and stuff." he thanks.
"it's really fine, i don't mind." you reassure, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
"m'sorry again for waking you up," he apologizes, the tiredness in your eyes making him feel even guiltier.
"stop apologizing, charlie. it's okay." you reassure again, a bit firmer this time. you take his backpack from him and bring him upstairs.
"there's a guest room at the end of the hall if you want to sleep there." you offer.
"oh, uh, okay. but um, i was wondering if maybe we could just, i don't know, hang out.. for a bit?" he asks.
"hang out?" you ask, no hint of mocking in your voice, just wanting simple clarification.
"y'know i just thought that maybe talking would tire me out?" he says, his voice barely audible.
you tilt your head to the side in acknowledgement, your hand following the tilt of your head as it turns the handle of your door to open. you flop down onto your bed, setting his backpack next to you. charlie, however, hovers beside it, as if too nervous to be in your room at all.
"you know where the bathroom is if you wanna put your pajamas on." you suggest.
"right, good idea, uh," he begins digging through his bag for the pajamas he packed. he pulls out some blue plaid bottoms and a worn stab t-shirt. he leaves your room for the bathroom just across the hall.
the harsh light of the bathroom makes his lack of sleep impossibly more obvious. the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark. he looked half dead. he rubs at his eyes aggressively, trying to look more awake. it's to no avail, though. now his eyes are red, too. he sighs heavily and leaves the bathroom.
you give a sympathetic pout to his tired expression and pull the covers next to you down.
"i, uh, i shouldn't-" he stammers. sharing your bed felt too intimate, something he didn't deserve.
"charlie walker," you begin, "i've known you since we were five. i promise i don't bite. come lay with me."
he goes to protest again, but the words stop in his throat. he bites his tongue and climbs into bed with you. but, he still keeps an awkward distance. he's rigid, almost hanging off the edge of the bed. you wrap an arm around him and pull him into you.
"don't act so afraid of me," you chuckle. he stiffens, but your soft caresses on his back relax him. he rests his head on your chest, looking straight ahead.
"how's your mom?" he asks suddenly.
"she's fine. she's not working as late which is nice."
"lot better than the last one. did i tell you that she broke up with her last one 'cause he tried to get her to sell the house?"
he looks up at you, "really?"
"mhm. she wanted us to move in with him. but he has a small, messy apartment. we'd barely fit. well, that wasn't the only reasonβhe was pretty shittyβbut that was kind of the last straw."
"damn, uh, i'm sorry about that." he apologizes.
"nothing to be sorry about. how's your family been?" you ask.
"oh, uh, same old same old. dad's on work trips a lot and mom's working night shifts now. don't see them all that much anymore."
your gaze softens, "oh- i'm so sorry char."
"nothing to be sorry about," he lets out an empty chuckle, copying your previous line, "but i've learned that i shouldn't live alone. i don't remember the last time i had a real dinner."
"you know, you could always just come over here for dinner." you offer.
"why not? you're always welcome over here, you know this."
he doesn't say anything, but he nuzzles into your warmth.
"are you feeling tired yet?" you ask, your voice a loud whisper. he shakes his head.
"y'know what? and sorry if this is too forward, but i read somewhere that the chemicals released in your brain after an orgasm can make you fall asleep faster." you mention.
"and why are you bringing this up?" his voice is quieter than usual.
"i don't know, have you ever thought about jerking off to go to sleep?"
"now don't freak out, but what if i helped you?"
"help me like how?" he asks, his voice incredibly quiet now.
"help you like give you a handjob." you deadpan. by this point he was red up to his ears. he doesn't say anything.
"hey, it's just an idea. no hard feelings if you aren't up for it." you reassure.
"i just... i don't want you to feel obligated to help me like that, it feels wrong..."
"i wouldn't be offering if i wasn't willing to do it."
"if you're sure then um... i guess we can try."
you give him a look, "i'm being serious, charlie. if you don't want to we don't have to. no maybe, no 'i guess', no 'sure'."
"i- i want to," he says, firmly this time, "i promise, i want to."
you kiss the top of his head, much to his surprise, "just close your eyes. i'll take care of you, 'kay?"
he nods, his body relaxing, albeit just a bit. you can feel his arousal through his pajama bottoms.
you reach over to your bedside table and open the drawer. in it, buried beneath some lavender pillow spray, loose cords, and gifted bookmarks sits a small bottle of lube. sample sized. he almost wants to laugh.
"where'd you get that?" he asks.
"got it as a freebie during a college tour. with condoms and shit." you open the cap and squeeze a bit on your hands. he shimmies his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring out. he's about 6 inches, and fairly skinny.
"mhm," he hums, looking up at you with pleading eyes.
your lubed hand softly cups the tip of his cock. his eyes squeeze shut, mouth falling open in pleasure. he lets out a choked whimper.
you start your pace slow and measured, pumping up and down the shaft with precision.
he nods shakily, "c-can i kiss you?"
you lift his chin with your knuckle, bringing his lips to yours. the kiss is gentle, just more than a peck. you give a light suck to his bottom lip before pulling away.
"can i tell you something?" you begin.
"ngh- uh-huh," he whines.
"i've liked you for a long time."
"r-really?" nothing had ever been quite as shocking to him as this. in his mind you were always way far out of his league. he could never have pictured you feeling any more for him than as an old friend.
"mhm. you were always so sweet and considerate. and you're so cute when you ramble about all your movies. i could listen to you talk all day." your hand's pace quickens just a bit.
"why didn't ngh- you say anything?" he asks, his eyes teary now.
"i didn't want to scare you away. i really like having you as a friend, and i didn't want to risk losing it if you didn't feel the same way." you confess, thumb lightly squeezing his cock as your hand pumps up and down.
"c-can i tell you something now?" he continues, his hand gripping at the fabric of your t-shirt.
"i've liked you for- fuck- for a really long time," he copies your own confession. he always had a habit of mimicking you, "but uh, i was always ngh- too scared to tell you."
you plant a soft kiss to the top of his head, making his shoulders rise to his ears.
"suppose there's no need to hide it anymore, is there?" you tease, circling your thumb over the tip of his cock.
"p-please," he whines, body shuddering in pleasure.
"you're lasting long, baby. didn't take you for the type." you rib.
"what ah- what does that mean?" he sobs. his hips thrust up into your hand, his body reacting completely on its own.
"shh, i'm just teasing you." you half-heartedly chuckle. you loved him, yes, but that didn't mean he wasn't fun to taunt every now and then.
his back arches, a sliver of his exposed tummy grazing your knuckles. your unoccupied hand cards through his messy hair, pulling little strands away from his watery eyes.
"ngh- need t'cum... c-can i? please?" his eyes are wide and pleading, a few tears escaping to his cheeks.
you reach over to your bedside table again and take a couple tissues into your hands. you cup the tissues over his throbbing tip.
"there, we'll keep you nice and clean. we'd hate for you to get all messy before bedtime."
with a few more whines and whimpers he cums; thin, translucent ropes of semen shooting onto the wad of tissues covering the tip of his cock.
"shh, there we go. i've got you, char char. shh." you hush, guiding him through his orgasm. his eyes were heavy and half lidded, the spell of sleep slowly taking him.
"you did so good, baby," you plant a kiss to the spot between his eyebrows. the now soiled wad of tissues crumples in your hand as you toss it into a nearby trash can, nearly missing but finding its way in.
you find that sweet spot between his brows again, this time with your thumb, rubbing softly up and down and up and down again.
"i think it's time we go to bed, yeah?" you whisper. looking down at his face, you're quick to realize that he's already succumbed to the soft blanket of sleep.
you gather the top of the bedcovers in your hands and pull it towards you, draping it over charlie's shoulders.
"goodnight, sweet boy." you murmur, placing one last kiss to his head.
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guys they took scream 4 off of prime but it's okay i got it on dvd (with screams 1-3) the day is saved. i also fear i'm entering a bit of a rory culkin phase,, i just watched intruders and jack goes home and today i will be watching gabriel yahoo!! anywho i promise i'm trying to crank out my other drafts but i am struggling. dw though they'll be published soon.
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