#Charlie Barber fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rachoxpotato · 2 years ago

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🎲 Charlie Barber x Female Reader ⚠️ babysitter/client relationship, age difference (reader 18), inappropriate use of Scrabble tiles, hand kink, Daddy, cunnilingus, p in v ✏️ 3k words -

Henry's been asleep since before Charlie got home.

Since putting him to bed, you’ve managed to put away almost all of the night’s activities and start the dishwasher. You’re heading into the living room, sights set on picking up the game of Scrabble (in which Henry insisted ‘gleeba’ is a word) when the front door opens.

“Hey, Mister Barber,” you greet from the floor as you slide the tiles from your letter racks onto the board.

He approaches with a smile on his face and stands over you—tall, towering, his hands on his hips. You swallow and continue tossing tiles onto the board so you can more easily funnel them back into their bag.

"Wanna play?" Charlie asks. "Or do you need to get home?"

Even as he asks the question, he takes a seat on the floor, clearly confident in what your response will be.

He’s right.

"I can play," you say, dumping the tiles onto the carpet as Charlie flips them with thick fingers.

Desperately attempting to focus on anything that isn’t those hands, you spend an unnecessarily long amount of time straightening his wooden tile rack, ensuring it’s perfectly placed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his two massive palms covering practically all of the tiles as he swirls them around, mixes them up, and you stop breathing when your own fingers graze his.

You choose seven wooden blocks.

“Ladies first,” he says with a smile, voice so deep, it shakes your core. You place your tiles across the star to play ‘CATCH,’ and then take five tiles to replace them.

Charlie keeps score, tallying up your points for you on the pad.

Such a dad.

“How was your meeting tonight?” you ask so you have an excuse to look at his face.

He shrugs, face laced with concentration as he anticipates his next move.

“Fine. Boring.”

You smile. “Hopefully this is a bit more titillating.”

Charlie looks up at you. His eyes fall to your chest as he considers your word choice and you clench as your heart rate speeds up.

“It definitely is, Sweetheart,” he says, voice deep, as he returns his own focus to the letters in front of him.

You’d been babysitting Henry since you were 16, even before Charlie and Nicole broke up. Conveniently enough, you live in the apartment above them and over the years, you’d grown attached to Henry. He’s smart and funny, he always remembers you and doesn’t need Charlie to reintroduce you. And he’s a good kid, easy to hang out with. You never mind canceling plans to help out the Barbers.

Well, to help out Mr. Barber.

Besides, Charlie pays incredibly generously and as you’ve gotten older, you’ve come to appreciate everything about him: his size, his demeanor, the way he’s such a dedicated father. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way you catch him staring at you since you’ve turned 18.

You know you shouldn’t have a crush on the man who pays you to watch his son. You should be interested in guys your own age but… there’s something about your 6’4” client whose hands appear as though they could wrap around your entire waist in one go. And you’ve tried to think of anyone else with your bedroom door locked, and your tiny fingers between your legs–like the captain of the football team, or the guy who sits behind you in Calc, but Mr. Barber always worms his way into your thoughts right as you’re about to come.

Charlie plays the word ‘VEIN’ and you can’t help but clench at the sight of his own veins rolling over his knuckles as his hand flexes, the tendons straining when he reaches for his pencil to document his score.

“Sweetheart?” he asks in a tone that implies he’d been trying to get your attention for a while. “Are you okay?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his hand as you apologize.

“It’s okay.” He smiles, his perfectly crooked teeth peeking out from behind his plush, pink lips.

When you look up at him, his eyes flick up to meet yours, his features laced with guilt as you catch him staring at your chest again.

Then you play ‘WIDE.’

As you reach to place your tiles, you bend a little further than necessary, so more cleavage is revealed to his clearly hungry gaze.

He inhales sharply.

“We could uh… we could make this more fun,” he says. “If you want.”

“Okay,” you say immediately. “I want.”

Charlie swallows, looks you up and down, his gaze scorching as he takes in your tiny denim shorts.

“Whoever plays the lower scoring word for the round… removes an article of clothing.”

It’s always warm in his apartment, so it’s not like you have a ton of clothes on to begin with, but you nod anyway, and you’re not sure if he purposely plays a word that scores him lower than yours, but he slips his cardigan off his shoulders without prompting and you smirk.

The following round, he’s delighted when ‘CLOSE’ earns him 24 points.

You arch an eyebrow.

“Shirt.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, eyes dark and focused. He watches you cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and he inhales deeply as you tug it up and over your head, revealing your lace bralette. It’s not completely see-through, but your nipples ache and are desperate for attention. They’re clearly visible as they strain beneath the fabric.

The second round goes to you and you memorize everything about the way his fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. You’re disappointed to see he has an undershirt on. He chuckles when you pout.

The next round goes to you as well and unfortunately, you have to waste this win on his shoes, but he throws you a bone and takes his socks off as well.

The letters you pick up are less than stellar and when it’s your turn again, you mindlessly drag your ‘W’ Scrabble tile across the bare skin of your chest while you survey the board.

“Fuck,” Charlie mutters under his breath as he shifts his weight and you’d noticed the bulge in his slacks earlier but it must be uncomfortable for him now because he rearranges his long legs for the third time in the past minute.

Still, he plays a word that scores him 21 points and his eyes unabashedly shift from your chest to your shorts, and back up to your chest as he considers his options.

“Bra.” You take a deep breath in and bite your lip as you tug the bralette up and slip your arms out of it, your breasts dropping out of the lace.

His expression is caught somewhere between pain and hunger as he devours your bare tits with his eyes. He sees you squirm where you sit, attempting to grind your center on the floor but it’s not the right angle, and it’s not enough. So you play your turn and win the round. You want his undershirt off desperately but you take pity on him and request his pants, his erection now so painfully obvious; it must be throbbing.

Unfortunately, your replacement letters contain no vowels and your options on the board are extremely limited, so when he scores higher than you on the next round, you both know what it means.

His eyes are on your tiny fingers working the button of your shorts after you’ve stood up but your hands are shaking so violently, you struggle.

“Let me, Princess,” he says, walking toward you on his knees.

He’s so tall, he’s eye-level with your chest. He nudges your legs apart before hooking his fingers into the waistband on either side and freezes, looks up at you. You nod, head moving half an inch but it’s all the permission he needs before his mouth wraps around one hard nipple, and his hands tug at your tiny shorts.

You whimper as he pulls them down your thighs, his mouth siphoning at your tit like he’s sucking a milkshake through a straw, and your panties get hooked with the denim.

You don’t even realize it's happening until Charlie pulls off of you to say, “fuck it, I’m taking this, too,” and yanks your thong down as well, leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“Fuck,” he whispers, free hand climbing up the inside of your thigh. “Fuck, you’re so perfect. So gorgeous. So grown up now, aren’t you?” You nod as his finger reaches the apex of your thighs.

You shift your weight back and forth as he strokes your folds, teases the creases between your sex and thighs.

“Mister Barber,” you whimper.

“Is this okay, Princess?” he asks.

You nod. “More.”

He smirks, but applies a bit of pressure and slides that finger through your folds. You can’t help but moan as his thick digit glides effortlessly through your soaked flesh, over your entrance and up toward your clit.

“So goddamn wet. This pussy. Fuck, Princess.”

He gathers some of your arousal onto his fingertip and brings it to your clit. Once slick, he circles the throbbing nub a few times, earning gasps and moans from you. Your hands flail, desperately seeking purchase on his head, his shoulders, anything.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He presses his finger to your entrance and slips it inside to the middle knuckle with ease. “Anyone ever touch you like this, Honey?”

You nod slowly.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Bet they didn’t make you feel like I can… will you let me, Sweetheart? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”

You nod.

“Say yes, Baby Girl. I need you to tell me.”

“Yes,” you say immediately, walls clenching around his finger. “Please, more.”

He curls his finger forward toward your front wall and you gasp as pleasure shoots through your system. Then, he adds a second finger.

He pumps them slowly, testing you, watching your face contort to see how much you can take. You groan when he withdraws his fingers, but you get a good look at them when he lifts them to your face.

“Look how wet you are for me, Princess,” he says, painting your bottom lip with your own arousal.

You allow both fingers into your mouth when he prods and you moan as you taste yourself, suck your juices off of him.

Then, you grab his wrist, holding his hand in place so your tongue can make figure eights around and through his digits.

Damn, you never knew that fingers could taste so good, that their weight on your tongue could feel like this, that sucking them deeper into your mouth could cause a surge of arousal to flood your already soaked center.

“You like this, Baby Girl? You like sucking Daddy’s fingers?”

Your knees nearly give out at that. You’d always wanted to say it, to call someone that but… most boys your age hardly want to be called ‘Babe,’ let alone ‘Daddy.’

But it fits him so well, you decide, as this fantasy knocks you off balance.

Charlie sits back on the floor and beckons you down with him using those fingers, until you’re straddling his lap and he lets you continue to suck as his opposite hand plays with your tits. He massages them, squeezes them, holds them in his hand and makes them bounce. You moan when he pinches a nipple and gasp when he twists it.

The ache between your legs is unbearable. It doesn’t help that your legs are spread open so you can’t even rub your thighs together in the way you usually do when you see Mr. Barber.

“Atta girl,” he coos, bringing your free hand to the bulge in his boxer-briefs. “You like sucking on Daddy’s fingers, huh?”

You nod, let your eyes fall shut as you hollow out your cheeks. “Will you do that while you let me fuck you, Baby Girl?”

You whine as he pries his fingers from your reluctant mouth and he chuckles.

“You’ll get them back, Princess. I could never deny you.”

He pulls his own shirt off and you marvel at his chest—the hard muscles and sheer width of him. His soft tummy bulges slightly over the waistband of his boxer briefs and brings you a sense of comfort you can’t explain and didn’t even know you needed.

His broad shoulders flex under your gaze and he smirks. Charlie keeps you in his lap as he maneuvers his boxer-briefs down and grips your waist so tight, his long fingers nearly wrap entirely around you.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, tilting his head up and capturing your lips with his. You moan as he squeezes you harder and thrusts his tongue into your mouth.

You feel him, hard and thick beneath you. You want to see it, but your bodies are pressed too closely together. You feel too small in his embrace, too powerless to make any decisions for the two of you.

“Mister B-” you whisper-whine before stopping yourself and moaning, “Daddyyyyy…”

“Shh, Baby Girl, I promise I’ll take good care of you, okay?” he coos and you nod. “Trust me.”

And you do. He lifts you slowly, until he’s lined up at your entrance.

“Please tell me you’re on birth control.”

“I am,” you breathe and he releases a sigh of relief as he lowers you onto him slowly. “Ahh,” you gasp as he stretches you out, pressing kisses to your chest and throat to distract you from any discomfort.

“Sweetheart, you’re—“

He doesn’t finish his train of thought. Just lifts you up off of him and you groan as he falls out.

“Daddy,” you whine as he sets you down on the scrabble board and pushes you back.

Charlie hovers over you and kisses you while one of his massive hands explores the curves of your body. You feel so vulnerable, spread open on his living room floor like this.

Kissing his way down your body, he pays extra attention to your breasts—sucking, kissing, licking at your nipples until they’re soaked and pointed.

“Daddy!”

Continuing south, Charlie positions your legs, spreads them the way he wants them and licks a stripe up your cunt experimentally and without warning.

“Yes, Princess?” he asks coyly. His hand appears between your legs.

Your back arches involuntarily as he licks your clit, and explores your folds with his tongue. Scrabble tiles dig into your back as you squirm and Charlie reaches up to pin you with a forearm across your hips.

You nearly scream his name as his tongue works you and he covers your mouth with a massive hand.

“Kid’s asleep,” he reminds you, but you hardly hear him when you grab his wrist and take two of his fingers into your mouth.

As you suck them, he sucks on your clit, his siphons matching your pace until you’re moaning, lips vibrating against his knuckles as your climax builds.

No one’s ever done this for you before. Sure, you’d made yourself come, but the boys you’d fooled around with probably couldn’t even point to your clit, let alone know how to tease it and suck at it.

Back arching, heart pounding, Scrabble tiles jabbing, you thrash across the floor and board as your orgasm wreaks havoc through your system, shakes you to your core.

“Good girl,” he praises, lifting his head off of you. He wipes his soaked mouth and chin on your inner thigh, your hip bone, your ribs, like a dog rubbing its scent, marking its territory.

“You came so well for me, Baby Girl. So good, so fucking good.”

Charlie wraps one of your pliant legs around his waist and you do everything in your power to tighten your muscles and hold it there for him while he enters you for a second time, filling you completely, but this time, it’s so much better.

“Fuck, oh my god, I-”

“Shh,” he tells you again, covering your mouth and refusing to allow you to pull it away. He buries his head in the crook of your neck as he thrusts hard and fast into you, the Scrabble tiles nearly cutting your back open.

“Fuck, you’re so tight still. Fuck, such a perfect pussy. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you,” he babbles as his hips snap against yours.

The friction of his thick cock rubbing mercilessly against your stretched walls renders you unable to think, let alone speak. Whiney babbles escape from between your lips as your body rocks back and forth with the force of his thrusts, your tits jiggling, and legs hardly able to remain locked around his waist.

Your back can only lift so much with his weight over you but as he grinds into you, a second orgasm rakes through your system, waves of pleasure coursing through your body as his thrusts grow sloppy and he spills into you, hitting you hard and deep as he comes. His hand slides off your mouth and he plants it on the floor to lift himself off of you.

“Fuck,” he breathes looking down at your naked body. “That was perfect, Baby Girl. You’re amazing.” He kisses your neck. “You were so good for me.”

You accept his lips when he leans up to kiss you.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, nudging your nose with his.

“Yeah, I just…” you maneuver your hand behind your back and pluck a Scrabble piece jabbing your shoulder blade. “Maybe round two can be in your bed?”

“Round two?” Charlie asks with an eyebrow arched.

“Of Scrabble. After all, we didn’t get to finish our first game,” you tease with a coy smile before dropping your voice, looking up at him through your lashes and whispering, “Daddy.”

Charlie growls before whisking you away to his bed.

Your clothes somehow make it to the room, but the disheveled Scrabble board remains in the middle of the living room floor.

#adcu #Adam driver #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #rachwrites

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cxrnality · 7 months ago

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Hi! I’m Carnal, welcome to my blog! :)

I wanna start out by saying I’m new to tumblr, so if you see anything that needs fixing / have any suggestions, please pm me! <3

I wanna lay out some rules for my page first!

1. Absolutely no minors should view my content or interact with my content!

2. Please be aware that my content can be triggering in some circumstances. I will do my best to give proper trigger warnings, if you see that my content does not have proper T/W’s, please send me a pm and let me know! It is never my intention to leave anything out.

3. I will not write anything noncon. CNC is only acceptable when it is written that it is pre-consensual. (ex: i will write a somno fic IF there is dialogue beforehand stating consent between both characters.)

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN, however, I’d like to keep this blog mostly open for NSFW visuals (twitter 🌽 links) for now. I am starting school soon and don’t want to overwhelm myself, but I know how little accounts post NSFW visuals!

I will write for:

ADCU (adam driver character universe, any character within that)

Aemond Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Cregan Stark

Aegon the Conqueror

Aegon II Targaryen

Maegor Targaryen

(Pretty much anyone from the ASOIAF universe!)

To send me a request, PM or make an anonymous ask! Thank you lovelies! <3

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

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Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐙𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 where you enter the lives of your favourite characters as they try and survive the apocalypse. unlike any other, they are lured to you, wanting you, needing you. they cannot survive without feeling you against them.

18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate my work. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

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halloween masterlist

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warnings will be added story. I would like to add that I looked up if fucking zombies is considered necrophilia, and I found a site that said it was not! I hope to awaken more kinks for you guys. a huge thanks to my two beautiful babies for helping me @shadeysprings @royalsweetteaa

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒆𝒓… 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔��𝒆? ft human luke danes x hopeless reader.

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𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒑 ft human cleo sertori x ruthless leader reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒋𝒐𝒓, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 ft zombie jasper hale x curious reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 ft halfbie harley quinn x bloodthirsty killer reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒑𝒔𝒆, 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 ft zombie rick grimes x rising queen reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 ft human carlisle cullen x oblivious reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒃𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒃𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 ft zombie steve kemp x food reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 ft human gomez addams x desired reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒎 ft human dex x obedient reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒆, 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 ft halfbie ari levinson x hopeful reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒉��𝒓 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ft human chris argent x unlucky reader.

೫˚💀❀ *ૢ🔮೫˚🧟‍♂️

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justagirlwholikesadam · 2 years ago

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Mostly all my fanfic are NSFW and are for mature readers. Please check the tags before reading. Have fun reading these and stay safe! - L

Follow my tiktok to see edits: HERE

Adam Driver’s Characters

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Lil Ren

She’s Mine

Paradise

He’s Mine

Ren’s Bride

Punishment

Reunited

Hard Ren

Saudade

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Charlie Barber - (Marriage Story)

An Affair

Henry’s Girlfriend

Paterson - (Paterson 2016)

The Bus 23

Jude - (Hungry Hearts)

Tenant

Maurizio Gucci - (House of Gucci)

Babysitter of Gucci

Jack Gladney - (White Noise)

Quickie before Class

Rory McCann’s Characters

Sandor Clegane - (Game of Thrones)

His Queen

His Queen: Chapter 2

His Queen: Nameday

Construction Worker! Sandor Clegane's Headcanon

Dating Sandor Clegane x Hispanic! Reader - Headcanon

Sandor's Secret

Farmer! Sandor Clegane Headcanon

Pornstar! Sandor - Headcanons

Realm's Delight

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The Wolf Among Men

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Alan Rickman Character's

Severus Snape - (Harry Potter)

"How can I prove it?"

This Feeling Will Pass

Crush

David Thewlis Character's

Freddie Mays - (Gangster NO. 1)

Freddie's Angel

Remus Lupin - (Harry Potter)

In Another Life

His Sweet Girl

Missing My Werewolf Boyfriend

The American: Welcome Back!

The American: Visiting the Dursleys

The American: A Storm is Coming

Communication

Best Friend's Little Sister

Queen Bee - W/ Sirius Black

Bad Day

Birthday Boy

Their Favorite Show

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mrs-gucci · 1 year ago

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mrs. g's sextember (sexy september)

hello lovely friends! welcome to my sextember event post :)

sextember itself will begin on friday, september 8th and will end on saturday, september 23rd (event duration: 2 weeks).

the requesting period for sextember will be open from friday, august 25th to friday, september 1st.

despite the requesting period being open before the beginning of sextember, all the pieces themselves will be released within the two week event period.

please let me know by either commenting on this post or leaving an ask in my inbox if you'd like to be tagged in the sextember event pieces. I won't be doing any character-specific taglists, it'll just be a general event taglist.

below the cut, I'm gonna be outlining all the characters and content that are acceptable for this event. this will serve as the "request FAQ" for sextember in particular, so if you're planning on requesting, please read the stuff below the cut or else you risk your request being deleted.

I’m so, super duper excited to write all your wonderful ideas and I can’t wait to read them all come friday!!

tagging a few friends for attention :) @babbushka @safarigirlsp @mrs-zimmerman @clydesfavoritegirl @mythrielofsolitude @rynwritesstuff

guidelines for sextember requests

the sextember "golden rule" - your request MUST include something autumn-themed (no halloween stuff). read more below on the types of things I'll accept as autumn-themed.

pairings: I only write female reader characters and heterosexual (M/F) relationships.

characters: Clyde Logan, Flip Zimmerman, Charlie Barber, Jacques Le Gris, Commander Mills, Adam Sackler (depends on request).

content: as the event title suggests, all pieces will contain smut in some capacity but there will be a variety of "intensity" in said smut and will have something for almost everyone.

the range of smut content could include...

heavy making out (making out w/ some touching), dry humping/grinding, handjobs & vaginal fingering, oral sex, p in v, kinky content.

my no-no's are...

rape (consensual noncon is okay). under 18. kinks involving extreme violence or brutalization. cheating (main characters cheating on one another). dd/lg. age play. pet play. pegging. strap-ons. male lingerie. anal play/sex. scat play. feeding kink. religious services, ceremonies, celebrations of any kind.

autumn-themed content: could involve an autumn setting (ie. a pumpkin patch, hayride, pumpkin carving, etc), an autumn item of some kind (ie apple cider, pumpkins, comfy sweaters, etc), and/or movie viewing (ie a spooky movie viewing). really, just something that’s autumnal in nature, I’m not super picky. just as long as it’s not something halloween, it’ll fit the event lol.

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ladyinwriting18 · 1 year ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked !

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Currently 32! There will be more! Also some of the fics I've written are old. I'm talking 2013 old lol

2. What's your total A03 word count? .........237,027 Fuck that's a lot of words LOL

3. What fandoms do you write for? A LOT LOL Mainly Star Wars and other characters played by Adam Driver. But I've also written for Marvel, House of The Dragon, Game of Thrones and Once Upon A Time.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

A Place To Escape (NSFW Multi-Chapter Kylo x OC/Completed)

I Want Another (NSFW One Shot/ Aemond "One-Eye" TargaryenxYou

Missing The Taste Of You (NSFW One Shot/ Kylo x Reader)

The Gift (NSFW One Shot/ Sandor Clegane x Reader)

The Principal's Office (NSFW One Shot/ Modern Day Kylo x Reader) IDK WHY THIS HAS SO MANY KUDOS I DON"T THINK THIS ONE SHOT IS ANY GOOD LOL

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I love talking to my readers and honestly every comment that gets left on one of my stories touches my heart!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Uh.....I don't think I have any. Most of my fics are smutty one shots that end happy ;) lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I would say A Place To Escape because I worked the hardest writing that fic and Kylo and Evangeline go through A LOT before their happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really. I once had someone comment that I must be jealous of Rey cause I write KyloxReader fics but I'm also a Reylo sooooo. But I'm sure there are people out there that talk shit about me and my writing lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? YES. All of the smut all of the time.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Nope. Well.....once I wrote that Heath Ledger's Joker falls through a wormhole into the real world of NYC were me and my two best friends find him and taken him home......Don't ask....and no you can't find that fic anywhere LOL

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have! Not for awhile now but they're deff fun to do!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Jesus idk...there's so many.... Prob Sandor x Sansa cause I've loved them the longest.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Most likely Darkness Into Light. It's never been released but it's a multi-chapter Kylo x reader fic where reader is also an apprentice of Snoke's and Rey tempting Kylo back to the light causes all these problems. I've had the story planned out and semi-written for years now. I love my ideas for it but I don't think I'll ever have the time or energy to finish it/put it out there to the world.

16. What are your writing strengths? I feel like I'm mostly known for my smut writing abilities because I not only write smutty fics but also write smutty audios. Most of my followers call me "smut goblin" lol But I have been told that I'm good at writing about powerful emotions connected with SA. And that I'm good at the characterization of various characters.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm too hard on myself and I think I suck. I also think I'm awful at writing descriptors. Like describing what clothing looks like or a place or things like that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I've done it a little bit in A Place To Escape. I wanted Evangeline to have a native language that she used once or twice that Kylo wouldn't understand. But I ended up just using Italian words because.....reasons lol

19. First fandom you wrote for? Oh god....I'm not even sure now because I've been writing for so long. But when it comes to my Ao3 it would be Once Upon A Time (Rumbelle for life!)

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Gonna have to say A Place To Escape because I put my heart and soul into that fic. And it's also the first ever multi-chapter thing I EVER finished.

No pressure tags! @simpremerat @weareallstoriesintheend @just-some-random-blogger @late-to-the-party-81 I feel like I'm forgetting people.....I'm so sorry my brain is legit trash at remembering people's usernames!

But if I tagged you, then I've read your stuff and I adore it! -Lady In Writing

#20 questions for fic writers #lady in writing #fic writer #fic writer asks #fanfiction is life #writers on tumblr #kylo ren #bruce banner #adcu community #ao3 writer #writer things #sandor the hound clegane #aemond targaryen #doc ock #flip zimmerman #charlie barber

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maybe-your-left · 1 year ago

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It's the Holidays, right?

I'm in a mood... a silly fun silly mood to write some delicious content for you all...

Here we go, saddle up, lets see if I can crank out some garbage after a long time on the bench!

Who I write for? Check out the Masterlist baby - No FLIP ZIMMERMAN OR ADAM HIMSELF

Want something different? Request something from my second blog @parallel-to-right for Anime men (see this post for people i will write for)

Some prompts:

Song Prompts (pick a SICK SONG & send it to me w the artist name too and I'll base something around it)

Smut Prompts

Fluffy/Romance Prompts

ROULETTE BABY PICK FROM MY RANDOM ASS LIST OF PROMPTS FROM MY PHONE (Pick a number between 1-24)

Types of Kisses

Dream Prompts

Tagging the old old old list for attention... @finn-ray-nal-beads @thepalaceofmelanie @ghoulian @botnasty @xxgarden @pop-rocks-and-skittles @historyandfandoms @doggycompiex @daydreamsofren @millenialcatlady @ladyjade83 @mariesackler @eagerforhoney @celestiasin @emi11 @caillea @livi-s @emeritusemeritus @jynzandtonic @ohdamnadamm

#adam driver #kylo ren #clyde logan #charlie barber #phillip altman #my writing #modern kylo ren #adamdriver #anime men #hunter x hunter #fanfiction ask days #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #demon slayer #ben solo #all the boys

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jynzandtonic · 11 months ago

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12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 7: Long Distance/Reunited

Charlie Barber x Reader

You knew Charlie would be spending Christmas and New Year’s in LA; it was never a question. Yet when you think about it, you still feel a little pang of disappointment that you won’t get to spend this special time of year together. Charlie’s devotion to Henry is one of the things you love the most about him; you don’t begrudge him for it. His dedication to showing up for his son despite the distance makes your heart swell, just like his dedication to you.

Your relationship is new and beautiful and precious; you’ve spent mere months together but the depth of feeling is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Every new day you spend together is a testament to how right you are for each other. You can feel it in the way he touches you, the way he listens to you, the way he brings you coffee in bed after morning lovemaking. You’ve met Henry a time or two—you talked about LEGOs and drawing and spaceships—and you’re hopeful that you can become a bigger part of his life in time. He’s so important to Charlie, so of course he’s important to you, too.

Christmas morning in New York City comes and goes; you spend the day stopping by dear friends’ places to exchange gifts and hugs. You text Charlie and he texts you back, letting you know that the LEGOs you helped pick out for Henry were an absolute hit. When you settle in for the evening, you’re surprised when you hear a knock on the door to your apartment… and even more surprised to find Charlie standing in the doorway when you open it.

“Hi,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. “I caught the first flight after I dropped Henry off with his mom. I just couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you on Christmas.”

You choke on a happy sob as you hug him back, hard. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you breathe.

“Till New Year’s Eve” he smiles, pressing soft kisses to each of your cheeks. “Then it’s back to LA. But (Y/N)...” his warm brown eyes meet yours. “When I go back, I want you to come with me. It’s time for you to be a part of this family.”

#12 days of fluffmas #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber fanfiction #charlie barber/reader #charlie barber/you

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shesjustanothergeek · 1 year ago

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The Most Tragic of Mistakes

|Charlie Barber x Fem!Reader Short Story|

Chapter One

Masterlist of Series

Summary: You're a fresh-faced makeup artist trying to make it in the Big Apple. Finally, you get a job as a makeup artist for Exit Ghost's new production of Caligula and meet the infamously intense director, Charlie Barber.

Author's Note: Hey y'all! I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this short story. I uploaded this quite some time ago on AO3 and Wattpad, but not on here. Why? I'm unsure. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Smut, age gap, slight innocence kink, adultery, unprotected sex, dom Charlie, the other woman-type trope, power imbalances, workplace relationships, choking, hair pulling.

You set down the glass of red wine on your coffee table, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram with your feet propped up, and release a long sigh. An anxious feeling permeated your stomach for the day you have ahead.

The sun has long since set and covered the outdoors with its shadow, the only light shining in the corner of your living room with a soft yellow hue.

Your first big makeup gig starts in only a few hours. It would help if you slept, but you can't. The anxiety is too much to relax your heart.

When you applied for the makeup artist position in the art department for a new play production, you didn't think you would get it. There was still the microscopic hope you would when you clicked 'apply' on the website, but this was New York. There was no way in Hell that an unknown "just-graduated artist" could book a gig like this. So young, so fresh out of cosmetology school that you hadn't even been able to work at a spa or salon, no real-world training. Nevertheless, the risk-taking director, Charlie Barber, decided you were the perfect fit.

When you got the call back from the hiring manager, you were stunned. No words could leave your mouth when she told you when the start date was. You could barely even reply a yes when she asked if you were still interested, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. You suppose you were one. A small fish yanked from the comfort of its calm water, Charlie Barber, the person who reeled you up, taking a chance on some nobody girl.

You reach your hand over, feeling the cold stem of the wine glass and twirling it between your index finger and thumb.

You had known who Charlie was before applying to this job, being familiar with the theatrical troupe of Exit Ghost but needing more interest to look at any of their past performances. You regret that now. What if any actors or coworkers tried asking you about your knowledge of their past plays? Quizzing your dedication to Charlie Barbers' work, asking for your thoughts and opinions on his directing. You couldn't brush those questions off; your ignorance and naivety would shine even more than your artistry.

You quickly tap the magnifying glass on your phone screen, searching for Exit Ghost. Surely, they would have social media. Everyone and every company had one to keep up with the growing advancement of technology and popularity to ensure they stayed in the loop.

It looks good if you follow your employer.

Finding their page, scroll down, making sure to follow them. You continue looking through their page, taking notes of all the plays they've mentioned. Opening nights here and there, celebratory dinners after successful shows, and some intimate pictures of the acting process occasionally. Then, you reach a post with the caption, "A look at the director: Charlie Barber mean mugging, no mess ups accepted!"

A small smile grows as you examine the picture. His intense brown eyes bore ahead at what you assume is the stage, his raven hair whispered back, framing fluffily around his freckled face, his nose prominently showing in the stage light. Sleeves from a blue button-up shirt rolled past his forearms, exposing the broad muscle, black hair lightly covering it. Charlie's giant fist covers his mouth as a sliver watch adorns his wide wrist, resting an elbow on a crossed thigh.

He's beautiful and regal, even if he's the inspiration for every Roman statue in history—a longing forms in your chest. You wish you could reach through the phone and touch him. Trace your thumb across his nose and cheekbones, feeling the chiseled structure. Run your fingers through his hair and feel the tickling between them as you kiss his lips, exploring every hidden inch of Charlie Barber's mouth.

Your thumb twitches at the thought, a white heart popping up on the screen.

You freak, a panicked cry releasing as you realize you liked a picture from three years ago. Three fucking years ago! You quickly unlike it, but the damage is done; they'll still be notified when they open the app. They'll see that the only picture your profile liked was the one of Charlie.

"This is so fucking embarrassing." You groan, cheeks on fire.

Hopefully, enough people will like their page, and your notification will be buried among them, but that isn't certain. The average amount of traffic they get in a single post is around a hundred or so, and more is needed to disguise your own digits' betrayal.

You put your phone face down, unable to stomach the antagonizing look of the pixels, and down the rest of your wine. That's enough electronics for today as you decide to go to bed.

Your phone buzzes you awake, the vibrations sending a small shock through your bones. Turning over in bed, you stretch, your muscles and joints groaning at the sudden movement. You sit up, slouching inwards as you stare lazily at the blank wall in front of you, trying to keep yourself alert after only being asleep for a few hours. The chill air hits your skin, causing goosebumps from the lack of blankets as you smack your lips together, mouth dry. You grab your phone, checking the time.

4:05 am

Why would anyone make rehearsal start so early?

You woke up extra early, unsure of the commute from the station to Exit Ghost's theater. Not to mention the time it would take to set up your station.

Finally, you crawl out of bed, eyes still hazy with sleep as you ready yourself for the long day ahead.

You arrive at the theater building, rolling a makeup case in tow. It was sketchy lugging that thing around the sidewalks and subway. You kept it near, wrapping your legs around it and studying anyone who dared to look your way.

If someone even attempted to touch your most prized position, you would lay your life down for all those cosmetics, not batting an eyelash. But thankfully, no one dared to try.

Pushing down the retractable handle, you grab the one on the side of the black case, hoisting it up and leaning as you ascend the concrete stairs. Your biceps curl and flex underneath the weight of it. The end of it tips backward. The force is too strong to be gravity. Your grip falters, nearly dropping your most prized possession on the dirty cement. You turn your body, swinging the luggage in the opposite direction as you curl your fist, ready to sock the person who dared to touch your makeup bag.

Charlie Barber stands there, his arms up in surrender, a leather bag strapped across his body as he chokes on a laugh.

"Woah, hey there now, put that sucker away." His eyes match his light-hearted tone with a hint of humor.

You quickly lower your fist, almost hiding it behind your back as if you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar, your face scorching with embarrassment.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Mr. Barber. I didn't mean to do that." You release an awkward laugh. "I didn't know it was you."

He chuckles, finding this situation a whole lot more entertaining than you

"It's all good, Miss..." He pauses, unsure of your name.

A pang of sadness hits you, completely involuntary. It's not like you should expect him to know it. After all, you've never met him, only having talked to the hiring manager, but it still hurts. Surely he should know his new hires? You push it down, filling in the gap with your first and last name.

"Ah, yes," he says, acting as if he knew it in the first place, repeating it back to you. "That seems like a mean left hook there! I'm glad I didn't have to taste it. I feel bad for the next guy, though."

You smile back, lips tight as you nod, refusing to speak, unsure what to respond with. Your mind is not nearly as witty as his. A small silence enters the air, soon interrupted by Charlie clearing his throat.

"Uh... Would you like help with that?" He asks politely as you shake your head. You're still uncomfortable giving your respective baby to a stranger, even if he was technically your boss.

"No, thank you. I got it. It's honestly not that heavy," you lie.

Charlie nods, humming slightly with approval as he steps aside, walking the few places to the door. You close your eyes as he passes, releasing a sigh of almost pleasure at the noise, knees going weak.

He unlocks the door, letting you enter first with the swoop of his hand, and you nod thanks.

A marble stairwell is all you're greeted with, silver and black plaques designating which floor you can go to. You stand there, wondering where the dressing room will be. No one ever told you the layout. If it weren't for Charlie, you wouldn't have entered the building.

The door closes automatically behind him as he shrugs his bag, adjusting it on his shoulder. You look at him, a deer caught in headlights, unsure of where to go, pleading for help.

"Which way to the dressing rooms, sir?" Your voice sounds small, barely bouncing off the hard stone. Charlie steps closer, nearly ending the small gap of space you have in the tiny area. His plush lips smile down at you, almost caring, wanting to guide and take care of you. He licks them.

"Let me show you," he says plainly. His rumbling voice sends shivers down your spine as you turn around, ready for him to lead. You're sure even if he led you to a different place, you would still follow, clinging to each step in the movement. "The dressing rooms are on the first floor with the stage."

Charlie rests a small hand on your lower back. It stays there as you descend, both of your shoes lightly tapping the hard floor. You stiffen at the touch but don't move, letting him guide you.

He shows you the dressing rooms, a mirror with light bulbs surrounding it that spans the entire room length, and wooden chairs with fabric backs resting in front of a long table. It's so secluded from everything, the cream walls trapping every sound.

You glance at the mirror, Charlie stares at your reflection, and you meet him, both expressionless. What is this? Why does your gut stir when you see him? Why does your mind lose control of your body when he talks?

He's just so handsome.

You would do anything for him. You would run your fingers through his hair for hours as he pulled you close. Brush your noses against each other as you kiss him, his plush lips overlapping yours. You would rip off your clothes and display your most intimate parts just for him. If only he would ask.

He removes his hand from behind you, lifting itself towards your neck. Your legs clench with anticipation, feeling your core damp and getting through your pants. And that's when you see it. A glint of gold sparkled in the mirror lights- a wedding band.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

He's married! Of course, Charlie is fucking married!

You shuffle away from him, turning your head to look at the ring.

"You're married?" You question with shock, your composure leaving you momentarily at the revaluation. "How long?" You force a polite smile on your face, trying to cover up the hurt from your past words.

He quickly drops his hand, his other fingers twisting the band nervously like he was checking if it was still there.

"I'm not sure exactly. Ten years or so? It's been so long." Charlie's words sound wistful, cold even, at the mention of his marriage. You brush off the feeling of his voice, trying to hide the hurt brewing inside.

"That's so sweet." You add a smile to your face. "Finding a partner you could get lost over the years with. So many people would kill for that."

Oh my God. You want to fuck a married man. You're officially a homewrecker.

"Yeah. I guess you could see it that way."

Anger pools behind his eyes. You want to reach out and touch Charlie, comfort him, trace the freckles and moles on his face, and ask what's making him hurt so much, but you don't. You can't. He's not yours, and he never will be.

He clears his throat, cutting through the thickness that has built.

"Let me show you the stage." Charlie glances at the silver watch on his wrist, the same arm his wedding ring rests on. "The others should be filing in soon."

He shows you the rest of what you need to know. The quickest way to get from the dressing room to the stage is by introducing yourself to the people who come in.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, saying how you needed to set up and get comfortable with your station. Which you needed to do; it wasn't entirely an excuse to get away from Charlie.

Others have already settled in the dressing room. White fabric costumes that resemble togas hang on silver racks, making the ample space incredibly small. When someone taps you on your shoulder, you set your case down, unzip it, and pull out all the makeup you packed within.

"Hi," a middle-aged woman with brown hair greets. Her skin hangs slightly with her years, crow's feet showing as she smiles. "I'm Mary Ann. I'm the Stage Manager here at Exit Ghost." She extends her hand, and you grip it lightly, startled by the sudden and loudness of her words.

You say your name politely, exchanging formalities, telling her your title.

"Oh, so you're the newbie!" She looks you up and down, examining your body, hair, clothes, and everything about you. Sizing you up almost. "You're a bit young, don't you think?"

You gawk at the audacity, too stunned to speak. She's not wrong, but there's no need to point it out. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to make any sound as Charlie enters, ducking through the doorway.

"Now, Mary Ann, you be nice to her. It's her first day." The man from before, cold and aloof at the idea of his marriage, is gone, replaced with a stern yet kind man, a director.

She backs away from you, finding a place by his side, her arm sneaking a slight touch on his side. You examine how her body gravitates to him, her eyes lighting up with an emotion only lovers share. You see it. No one seems to notice or care about it, but you do.

You tilt your head and squint at her slim fingers, trying to find a diamond, but you don't. Your pupils travel across their bodies as they converse, lost in the conversation of what the lighting should look like in this scene, how this one actor was off, and such.

Charlie glances at you, stuttering as he sees the realization dawn on you. He knows that you know. Out of everyone here, the newbie spots it and sees his affair.

He pushes Mary Ann away harsher than he should, not believing that he let himself slip in front of all these people. In front of you. The newbie he had to hold back from caressing their neck just moments ago, from griping her jaw and fucking her right there while they were alone.

You stare at him, unrelenting, as Mary Ann tries acting like he didn't just tell her with his body to leave.

Maybe Charlie made a mistake saying yes to the young cosmetology graduate, letting her into his production and thus his life. How could she, out of everyone here and out of everyone who interacted with him and spoke with him every day, see it? It was she who saw Charlie for what he was. An unfaithful man, a husband who broke his vows to the woman he swore death would be the only thing to separate them.

You break the stand-off, continuing to unload your supplies. Charlie excuses himself from Mary Ann-- from this whole situation. The sudden urge to light a cigarette and leave the theater for the rest of the day, to run away from them all, is strong, but he snuffs it out. Putting on the hard face of the director, everyone knew. The one that everyone needed for this production to go well.

Actors periodically returned to the dressing room, testing different makeup styles and techniques in the lighting, getting fit, and seeing what worked well and needed to be changed.

Charlie never returned. Mary Anne relayed all messages to him.

Finally, the black and white clock ticks to three, signaling your freedom from the almost den of a dressing room. You pack up, clicking every palette closed and sheathing every brush in its protector.

"Hey," the art director, Heather, says, a white toga with a golden belt in her hands. "Do you think you could hang this up for me since you're still in? It goes on hanger seven."

She throws you the garment, not waiting for an answer. You catch it before it falls on the dusty floor.

"Thanks," she calls back. And with a wave of her hand, she's gone. Everyone's gone, you realize, every chair empty, leaving only you... alone.

You look at the gown again, straightening it with a flick of your wrists. You turn your head, seeing something dark on the fabric that shouldn't be there. Eyeshadow. All color from your face drains, and you feel like you'll puke.

"Shit," you whisper. "Shit, shit, shit."

Slamming the costume on the table, you search desperately for a makeup wipe, rubbing the black shadow. It only makes it worse, smearing the pigment upwards.

"Oh God, what am I going to do?" Your breath quickens, panic setting in as you continue to scrub viciously.

You don't even notice when Charlie calls your name, too concentrated on the end of your career muttering expletives. His significant digits wrap around your tricep, and you jump, trying to cover the mess.

"What are you still doing here," he questions with a raised brow, looking you up and down. A smile cracks on your face as you hide the costume from his view.

"Oh, you know, just," you lift your hands, gesturing, "cleaning up... and... stuff." Your eyes snap to the side with each pause.

"Uh huh," Charlie responds in an unbelieving tone and puts a palm on his hip, his hair shining in the artificial light.

Why does he have to be so hot?

You blush, crossing your ankle over the other, subconsciously creating friction.

"What's that there behind you?"

You chuckle nervously.

"Oh, uh, this?" Gesturing to the ruined toga behind you. "Nothing. Just a costume that needs put away."

"Okay..." He draws the word out on his pink tongue, still a hint of curiosity behind his iris.

"Is that all you needed, Mr. Barber?" Hopefully, this will urge him to be on his way, and you'll find a way to fix this.

"Yeah..." Charlie says, once again drawing the word out.

Suddenly, his fingers snatch the robe, whipping it back too fast for you to grab it. He examines the dark, damp spot on the fabric. You flip your body around, signaling you're done with the conversation, and he can finally leave.

"Did you do this?" He questions, tone flat, devoid of any hints of his emotions.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Heather just threw it at me, and-and I had makeup on my hands..." You ramble, tears nearly springing from your eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Barber." You look away, shame forcing you.

"Don't call me that." Your eyes snap up, ready to apologize again as he throws the toga on the floor and steps closer. "Do you see what it does to me?"

Tilting your head, you study him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion when nothing seems different. Charlie moves again, and you slide back, spine hitting the table. He gestures to his waist, a prominent bulge protruding from his khaki pants. You cough awkwardly, too stunned to speak.

"Look at me," he commands, "look at what you do to me. Do you know how difficult it is for me not to fuck you right here?"

A bolt travels through you, straight to your core, as you squeeze your thighs together. He puts his hands on the table, caging you in. You cower away from the intensity, his hot breath rolling down your cheek.

"You're so beautiful, and you don't even know it. You stand there, looking all innocent with those doe eyes begging me to fuck you." You shudder, Charlie's words so erotic and explicit in your ears. "I bet that's what you want right now, isn't it? For me to rip off all your clothes and pump your cunt full of my cum?"

There's nothing more in this world you would want. You felt that life would be complete if he just claimed you. A moan escapes from your chest, unable to longer contain your desire for Charlie.

His knuckle brushes down your face, fingers wrapping around your throat, threatening you into submission.

"Say it." He commands, pausing and waiting for your answer. He tightens his grip when you don't respond, your knees weakening from the growing desire. "Say it," Charlie repeats, the words gritting his teeth.

"Yes," you exhale in a soft breath.

Charlie leaves no room for second guesses as he slams his mouth into you, the soft flesh squeezing between the gaps of your teeth. Your fingers slither into his hair. It feels exactly as you imagined, silky and clean, with hints of product to smooth it back as you groan, opening your lips further.

If someone came in and shot you, you would die with a smile, your life finally complete with this one moment. It's as if everything in the past has led you to this moment. Forged you and carved you out for this very thing.

A giggle vibrates through your connected mouths, your chest bouncing as Charlie pulls back with a questioning look. You shake your head almost in disbelief.

"I was made for you, Charlie Barber." He smirks as he goes to cup your breast, testing it in his hand, seeing if your statement is true. Your back arches into his touch, asking without words for him to use it however he sees fit.

Finally, he removes your shirt, diving into trailing kisses down your neck, sucking too harshly as you whine. He bucks his hips into your still-covered cunt, grinding, seeking friction to ease the ache in his cock.

That's all he can think of as if it has a brain, neurons firing into his muscles and controlling his movements.

Charlie's digits unclasp each hook of your bra, exposing your tits to the chill air, your nipples perking into peaks. He latches onto one, licking and teasing you until you writhe under him, desperate mewls whispering.

Your legs buckle as teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, but Charlie stops you from falling, palms resting behind your thighs as he lifts you on the table. He pulls back from your tits, examining your state.

Cheeks flushed with blood, skin prickled with goosebumps, sweat dampening your sternum as your heart hammers in your chest. If Charlie didn't know better, he would think he's already fucked you, but seeing as your pants are still on, he digresses.

"Look at you. Already coming undone for me, and I haven't even touched you yet." You whimper, pouting with embarrassment at your lack of self-awareness. "Awe, sweet thing." He says, grasping your chin with his thumb and index pads, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Don't worry. I'll fix that for you."

He unbuttons your pants, sliding them down your legs as he kneels between them, nose pressing against the clothed mound. You move your hips slightly, trying to seek pressure covertly, but he notices and smirks, nuzzling closer. Charlie mouths at your wet panties, and you gasp, the foreign sensation building.

He continues to teethe lazily, not giving you nearly enough of him. You gently grab his obsidian hair, forcing him to meet your gaze, but not enough to completely pull away. Your eyes wide and pleading, begging for him to give you what you desire, ready to bargain anything for it. He gets the message, hooking his middle finger on the hemline and pulling it to the side, your wet and waiting pussy appearing.

He trails a digit down the middle of your slit; you gasp, happy with finally getting some semblance of what you want. Charlie purses his lips, a glob of fat spit splattering on your entrance. He pushes it in, finger-twisting and curling to ensure it stays there. Your hips buck and thighs clench as he hits that sweet spot inside you.

"Please, Charlie, I need more."

If your pussy could talk, it would be weeping, crying at the lack of attention it's getting, as Charlie teases.

"What a greedy little thing," he comments. "Who knew you were such a slut?"

You moan at his words, swelling from them as he gives in. He slides another finger, stretching your hole too broad for an average man as he moves it back and forth with a slow "come here" motion.

"You sure you can take me, sweetheart? You feel so tight."

"Yes! Your fingers are just huge," you grit out.

Charlie chuckles as he picks up his pace, pulling the tidal wave of your pleasure out to sea. He leans back into you, his lips circling your clit as he sucks, tongue licking.

You stroke his scalp, smoothing the waves back. He hums into your cunt, the vibrations sending you shivers. A sudden pang enters his chest, nearly stopping him for a beat before continuing.

The feeling is longing within his ribcage, old emotions Charlie thought he would never feel again with a woman, though unbeknownst to him, he sought-- a woman to fulfill his carnal desires that his wife no longer wanted. He thought he could find it with Mary Ann, but with her, it was just empty nothing.

But with you... With you, it was different.

The feeling of you softly gliding your nails along with his head as he devoured your cunt wasn't one of a woman who was just lost in ecstasy, greedy for her climax, but one who seemed to care. One who seemed to enjoy the thought of him wanting to take the time to put her first, to ensure she enjoyed herself without any expectation of reciprocation.

It hurt him almost to realize that what he was looking for, begging for, was someone happy with just the thought of him, grateful for his kindness and thoughts.

Perhaps it was selfish of him to want anyone else other than Nicole to give him that, but at the same time, was it too much to ask? Did he not deserve to be happy again? Not to be bogged down by a person who only saw the faults in him and nothing else. He was sure you would be his death in so many ways.

Charlie wraps his arms around your legs, smashing his nose into your pubic bone as you begin the crescendo of your orgasm.

Yes, he did deserve it, deserved the serotonin it gave to be with someone who saw him for what he was in his entirety-- deserved you. Your screams and cries of heaven are lost on Charlie's ears. The only thing he could hear was his thoughts.

I do deserve her. She's mine. Mine.

And he had to have you. Again and again and again. You couldn't walk until his milky white seed dripped down your pussy and thighs.

Charlie grips your hips, fingers digging in painfully as you cry out, spinning your body around and flipping you on your stomach. He rips your panties down your legs, the dry cotton burning your skin. He grabs his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it out of the loops, his shirt untucking as he unbuttons his pants. They slide down, getting stuck on his knees as you see his tight grey underwear, his impossibly hard cock straining underneath the fabric, a small dark dot on the top from pre-cum. You look into the mirror, seeing the reflection of Charlie behind you, his cheeks tinted pink and hair wild even after smoothing it. He's so crazy, completely unhinged behind you, your pussy tightening around nothing as you wait.

Charlie's thumbs hook onto the lips of your hole, prying you open for him, his fingers splayed over your ass.

"You sure you're ready for me," he teases.

You nod frantically, trying desperately to get what you want as he smirks, removing his hands to take off his underwear. His cock springs free, veins protruding on his long shaft, the pink head glistening with seed. Your mouth falls open. Charlie is enormous, more significant than anything you've ever seen. He's equally as wide as he is long. Unsureness washes across your face.

Maybe you can't take it? You could barely take his fingers; how could you even handle his manhood? Charlie notices your hesitancy as he steps closer, bending as he peppers comforting kisses down your spine.

"You can do it, sweetness." He affirms, his hot breath dancing on your skin. "I know you can."

If it were possible to turn into a liquid, you would do so now. Charlie's words were so sincere and kind that you could melt into the cracks of the tile floor. You nod, agreeing with him as he spares you one last lick of his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The head of his cock pokes at your entrance, daring to go farther, just testing the waters. You gasp, feeling Charlie's skin on yours enough to send you into a frenzy as you buck your hips back. He pulls away, sliding his shaft along your wetness, readying himself for you, tiny shocks of pleasure traveling through your nerves as he rubs your clit. You whine, clenching around nothing, finally having enough.

"Charlie," you mewl, "please, I can't wait anymore."

His heart swells at your voice, happiness overcoming his entire being at the thought of someone needing him. After all, he is a caring man. He can't deny you any longer, not when you need him.

Charlie pushes the tip into you as you gasp, gritting your teeth, a slight sting emerging from your core. He shushes you with his lips, his palms rubbing soothing circles on your ass cheeks as he goes in a little further.

"Look at that," he comments. His cock disappears into you.

Your head lowers as your eyes roll back, a guttural moan escaping you as he bottoms out, stretching you so tightly around him.

"You take me so well."

Your body twitches at that, cinching around him momentarily, causing him to groan. The sound is heavenly, putting a smile on your face. You could listen to that noise forever, putting it on a loop and never getting tired of it. You do it again, trying to coax it out of him. Charlie grunts with a small ah, his hand smacking your skin in punishment as he slides out, leaving only a sliver of him, your lips encompassing his cock.

Charlie begins thrusting, his hips coming into contact with your thighs as you feel the tiny tickles of his hair. He doesn't go slow this time, his carnal desires taking over as he slams back into you, his head brushing against your cervix. You cry out, the pain of him stretching you mixing with the pleasure of his cock rubbing your sensitive spot.

You flatten yourself on the table as he pistons into you, his pace unrelenting as you continue to pant. Your hands scratch the plastic-coated wood, trying to find something to ground you at this moment as his strength pushes you against the mirror. Your cheek squishes as the oils smudge it. Your eyes look feral. Your pupils dilate with lust as you search for his. Charlie's lips are pursed, gaze downcast as he concentrates on your cunt, your pussy swallowing his cock.

You could stay like this for hours, looking like a mindless little fuck toy for him, doing anything and everything he could ask for and thanking him in the end.

He catches you staring in the mirror, looking entranced. He grabs your hair, his digits tangling in the locks as he pulls your head back, fucking impossibly deeper than before. Your chest rises and falls in a quick breath as he keeps drilling, a pressure in your gut growing.

"You are doing so well," he smirks. You return a small, lazy smile, happy to be pleasing him.

"Thank you, Mr. Barber," you say breathlessly, your voice hiccuping. "You feel so good."

Charlie sighs, your words putting him in a daze as his mind wanders.

It's been so long since he felt this way... truly appreciated even this most simplistic of actions. It has been years since Nicole had sex with him, months since she had let him kiss her, even hug her. Their bond was severed and destroyed long ago, their spark lost. He tried to find it in Mary Ann. Charlie was so desperate for a connection, for anything, when he confided in her about his marital troubles that he had no idea she took it as him wanting her.

He did not stop the affair from advancing; it was a good distraction for the most part. He could channel the affections and longing he wanted from Nicole through her, and it worked... kind of.

But then you came.

Walking up the stairs of his theater building, he was severely overdressed with an air of innocence he wanted to possess again. So new and fresh-faced to the world, Charlie realized he had to have you, be with you, guide you, and teach you about what this life has to offer.

And here he was, balls deep inside you as you panted his name, praising him for making you feel so good. It was almost naive of you to do, so childish that you thought it was a luxury to feel this good when Charlie could do it all the time. He wanted to teach you about life, and wasn't this a part of it?

Your velvet walls tightening around Charlie rips him from his thoughts. He could tell you were close, inching your way over to ecstasy.

He snakes his hand around you, the pads of his fingers coming into contact with your clit, your body twitching.

"Oh, God, Charlie, I'm so close." You pant, eyes shutting as another intense wave of pleasure washes over you.

"Look at me," he demands. You don't obey, too lost in the building pressure. He slaps your clit in admonishment as your leg hikes up at the intense sensation. "Let me see those eyes."

They almost flutter shut again at his command. It sounds like pure sex on your ears.

"Good girl," he praises, "I wanna see your face when you cum."

Those words nearly push you over the edge, but you hold back, not wanting this moment with Charlie to end.

"I bet I'm the first man ever to make you feel this good. The first one to have you cum from my cock alone."

The squelching of your wet folds as he thrusts is almost embarrassing, your face heating up even more.

"Listen to yourself. You're sopping wet, and it's all for me, only for me." Charlie's hand tightens your scalp. "You're going to fucking cum on my cock, and then, I'm going to stuff you full of my seed. Until it's dripping down your thighs and on the floor."

You shudder, his words almost pulling you out of your body as the pressure in your stomach bursts. You orgasm deep inside, racking through every bone in your body as he pulls you through it. Fucking you until you're a blubbering mess under him, twitching and clamping.

He lets go of your hair, and you collapse back down on the table, air shuddering out of your lungs. Charlie keeps fucking you a little slower now. You're like a rag doll under him, stilling and moaning softly when you realize he hasn't come yet. He put your pleasure before his own; tears nearly spring at the thought. You need to make him cum. He deserves it more than anything else in the world.

You extend your back, pushing your ass into him as he grunts. He must be so close. You don't want him to hold back any longer. You want him to fuck you and use your body for his own.

"Charlie." His gaze snaps up to yours in the mirror, his lips swollen and eyes glossy. "Please, cum. I need to feel you cum inside of me." You plead. "Please, Mr. Barber," you hiccup as his hips snap harshly into you. "You deserve it."

His mouth twitches, his jaw clenching as he slams into you a few more times, chasing his high. His warm seed fills inside your walls as his pelvis stalls and groans, tucking his chin to his chest. He pauses, catching his breath as he finally pulls out. You squeak as his tip glides over your sensitive spot, sending a bolt of overstimulated pleasure. You hear Charlie chuckle as he shuffles around and gathers your clothes and belt. You stay there, not trusting your knees enough to get up; you're too happy to move.

Charlie gently grabs your ankles, telling you to pull them up so he can slide your pants back on. They reach the crease of your ass before he stops, his thumb gliding over your swollen and abused mound, collecting the cum dripping and pushing it back in. You gasp, still sensitive. He runs soft fabric over the area, cleaning you up to the best of his ability as he pulls your pants up the rest of the way. Your turn around still bent over the table.

"Charlie, where is my underwear?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, already having somewhat of an idea of where they could be.

He grins, showing you the cum stained panties as he stuffs them into his breast pocket. You roll your eyes as you extend your arm for the rest of your clothes, regaining enough strength to move. Finally, fully covered, you glance at the costume you ruined draped over his arm as you frown.

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. Barber. I can take it to a dry cleaner to see if they can fix it. I'll pay for everything." You still can't believe you ruined a costume on your first day. You won't believe you did many things on your first day. He waves away from your offer with a shake of his head.

"No, it's fine," he says your name tenderly. "I'll take care of it." You nod, agreeing with your lips pursed, still feeling guilty as you gather your things to leave, walking to the exit as Mr. Barber shouts for you. "Also, please don't call me that, Mr. Barber." You nod again wordlessly. "Everyone just calls me Charlie around here."

"Okay, Charlie." It feels foreign when you're saying it without his cock inside you. "I'll see you tomorrow," you say with sleep lacing your voice. "You and Mary Ann have a great rest of your day."

Your words would sound innocent to the middle ear, just a coworker wishing her bosses a good day, but you know better, and so does Charlie. He also knows that he and Mary Ann will, in fact, not have a great day with what he plans on doing now. You've changed everything for him, unbeknownst to you, as the wheels of your makeup bag click on the floor. Whether or not it is for the best remains to be seen.