#also headcanon that Charlie is instinctually mean to those he likes and is in the process of unlearning it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

okk--maaan · 5 years ago

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Hello :) it's the anon who requested the headcanons on how Charlie would take care of a partner who had experience with bad relationships. I absolutely LOVED how you wrote that/handled that and I was wondering if you could tell me how Charlie would be with a lover who is curvy and a bit insecure about that? -🦕

Hello my dear!! Oohh! If you’re gonna use the dino emoji can I call you Lil Foot (I can’t think of any other cute/clever nicknames lol)? I’m SO glad you liked the last thing I wrote for you - I was a lil worried about it for a minute!

Instead of HCs, I wrote you a whole lil (wow I say lil a lot) ficlet this time! It definitely turned into smut - WHOOPS! When I started outlining it I literally wrote -- in my notebook with a pen -- ‘ok this gone get real nasty’. I hope that’s ok and I hope it gives what you were looking for! And let me say that I and any of the boys I will ever write for LOVE AND APPRECIATE AND ACCEPT ALL BODY TYPES!!! Thicc Thighs Save Lives is a longstanding motto here!!

Also I’m a bad writer so it takes me forever to write anything (and my ADHD and anxiety be like nah fam) and I did very little editing to this so sorry for all of those things.

Word Count: ~2k

CW: curvy/plus size RC, body insecurity, smuuttt, like one mention of spanking, slightly Dom!Charlie (?), alcohol consumption, fluffiness (’cause ‘course), lots of build up (what can I say? I like foreplay), bad grammar

“Charlie,” you whine standing in front of your open closet, still in your robe. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at. He really wanted you to wear this tonight? And he really wanted you to wear that underneath?

Hanging neatly on the inside of the closet door was a slinky red dress -- that you knew was going to be way too tight -- and a meticulously matched set of lacey lingerie. Silently judging you. ‘Nope’ you thought to yourself, ‘Not happening’.

Just as you start rummaging through your wardrobe for one of your other perfectly fine, perfectly comfortable dresses, Charlie steps into the bedroom. Sensing his presence, you turn to find him already fully dressed. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit, tapered and tailored precisely to his body, and a slim navy blue tie. His black oxfords look freshly polished and his neatly parted hair is almost as shiny.

“Wow. You look nice,” you say with a bit of a bite as you pivot back to the task at hand. It wasn’t fair that he was able to look that sophisticated and handsome with such little effort.

Hearing your bitterness, he cautiously moves in closer, rests a large hand on your back. “What’s wrong honey? You don’t like what I picked out for you?” He nods his head towards the offending articles of fabric.

Without losing any heat in your voice, you shoot back, “Well Mr. Barber. I don’t think your lovely gifts here are going to exactly accentuate my figure!” Oohh maybe that was a little harsh. But Charlie never falters, takes you in stride, like he always does.

“Baby,” he says in that way that just makes your heart -- and every other part of your body -- melt. “I wouldn’t have picked these things for you if I didn’t think you were going to look absolutely stunning in them.” With that, he places a loving peck to your forehead and steps back to sit on the bed. “Please, honey, put them on. For me.”

And only because you have such a weakness for when he talks to you like that, do you undo the tie on your robe, place it in the closet, and begin timidly dressing yourself in his gifts.

Even with your back to him, you can feel Charlie’s gaze boring into. Studying. Studying the way your hips and thighs round out as you stand naked in front of him. The way your backside swells as you bend down to step into your panties. The way the soft curve of your breasts peeks out as you reach up to loop your arms through your bra.

Charlie can already feel himself stirring under his suit pants.

As soon as you pull the dress straps over your shoulders, he’s back to standing behind you, hand on your zipper. “Let me, sweet thing,” he whispers into your skin, right against that tender spot between your neck and shoulder. His lips never leave you as he closes you up. Once the zipper reaches the top, he shifts back to observe you fully. Admire.

Even technically fully clothed, you can’t help but feel self-conscious exposed with the way the fabric hugs your body. Instinctually, you go to wrap your arms around your middle, to try to hide. But apparently Charlie can read minds and he’ll have none of that. His long fingers wrap gently, knowingly around each of your wrists. He places another kiss to that spot on your neck and whispers, “beautiful.”

-----------------------------

The theater is dark, aside from the few soft spotlights that glow over the actors on stage. It’s quiet enough that you can hear Charlie beside you, scribbling in his notebook.

But he’s not focusing on what he’s writing nearly as much as he should be. Instead of the words on the page, all he can see are images of you pulling on that dress. All he can think about is that memory of your supple skin, wanting to map out every inch. If he wasn’t trying so hard to get these damned notes down, his hands would be all over you.

Those thoughts alone are enough to get him growing in his pants again.

-----------------------------

With your second glass of wine in your hand, you are finally starting to relax a little. You lost Charlie to the hustle and bustle of the after party some time ago. But that’s ok. You understand there are certain duties he must fulfill as the director on opening night. When you find each other again, you can tell he’s already had several scotches by the flush in his cheeks and slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. And that’s also ok. He deserves to celebrate tonight after all those months of hard work.

When his eyes lock with yours, his pupils are blown black and wide and there’s something behind them other than just a few drinks. He doesn’t interrupt the conversation you’re having, just places a hot hand on your ass. And squeezes. It takes everything in you not to squeal outright in front of your friends and Charlie’s cast. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “let’s go home now.” His words are slurred just slightly but their meaning rings through you crystal clear. He composes himself enough to turn to the small crowd that’s gathered and excuse the two off you. And before you have a chance to say the rest of your goodbyes, he’s whisking you out the door.

-----------------------------

The second the doorknob to Charlie’s apartment latches closed, his hands lips tongue are all over you. You have little time to catch your breath before his hot hot mouth is on yours, prying you open. You can taste the remnants of alcohol on his breath. With his hands on your waist he’s pulling pulling pulling you further through the foyer and into the living room. As you stumble around corners and furniture, he mumbles against you, “You looked so good tonight baby. So fucking sexy. Mmnhh I love you in this dress. I was getting so hard just looking at you.”

“Charlie,” you gasp as he suddenly breaks all contact, leaving you disoriented, and plops down on the couch. His legs are spread wide and his chest is heaving.

“Take this off baby,” he leans forward to pinch at your thigh, just above the hem of your dress.

“Uh-huh,” you bob your head up and down until it tips back and your eyes close and your hands reach behind you for your zipper. You tilt your chin down and open your eyes to him when the zipper reaches the bottom. Your arms fall to your sides knowing he’s in charge right now. He’ll tell you how he wants you next.

“Turn around sweet thing,” he instructs, more breath than words.

Somehow more heat rushes through your body, through your face, neck, fingers, thighs, toes. You’re already so hot too hot. You cross one heeled foot in front of the other and spin to face away from him. Behind you, you hear the clink clink of Charlie’s belt buckle followed by his own zipper sliding down. Then the sound of fabric rustling, bunching up. You know he’s stroking himself now. Watching you.

“Pull it down. Slowly.”

You do as you're told. Of course you do. You want this just as badly as he does. You push the straps down your arms and over your plump chest, breath ragged. You let the dress pool atop your full hips and wait for further direction.

Charlie huffs out a light life, reveling in how good you’re being for him. “Keep going baby.”

With one final shove, the crimson cloth slides down your thick thighs before falling around your ankles. Charlie groans, deep and guttural. Goosebumps spring up over your newly exposed flesh, assaulted by the cool air and Charlie’s sounds.

“Take your bra off.”

That one was easy. You unhook the clasp and let it hit the floor with your dress.

And you wait again. Wait. Wait. You listen to Charlie’s deep breathing and picture him slowly pulling up down up down on his length. Your pussy drips then clenches at the thought. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to stand.

“Bend over baby.”

Ever so slowly, you lower your torso, brace yourself on your shins.

You hear movement behind you again. Charlie moves off the couch to rest on his knees. Eye level with your ass. You feel his fingertips trace lightly up your thighs, exploring. More goosebumps. A moan escapes your throat. “Nnnnhh yes sweet thing,” he says. Then another squeeze. “Mmm so soft.” He relishes in the way your flesh gives for his fingers. Mesmerized by the way he can leave little dimples where he presses. He inches closer to graze his lips across each leg. “I love you so much baby. I love your body. You’re so perfect.” His words send a shock from the crown of your head to your needy core. You need him.

“Charlie please. Give me something. Anything,” why was he teasing you like this? You know you hadn’t drank nearly as much as him, but now it felt like you did.

Mischievously he responds, “Oh I’ll give you something.” With one swift movement, he rips down your panties -- probably ruining them -- and buries his face in your pussy. “Ahhh!” is the only answer you have. He lavishes scorching open mouth kisses over your slick lips, occasionally brushing your stiff clit with his tongue. “Mmmm you really are so sweet baby,” he groans against you. Losing yourself, all you can do is chant, “Yes yes yes.” With one final suck, he pulls off. He sticks two of his fingers in his mouth, getting them nice and wet and warm for you, then shoves them into you. While he pumps in and out of you, he kisses your thighs, nips at your ass and asks, “Are you ready for my cock sweet thing?” His hands fill you to the brim, but they’re never enough, never compare to his cock. “Yes Charlie ! Yes! Please!” After a few more thrust, he withdraws his digits, smacks one of your bare cheeks loving the way it shakes, and returns to the couch.

“Come here my beautiful flower,” he holds his full proud dick up for you. You more than happily lower yourself over him, hands on his knees, just enough for him to drag his swollen head through your folds. When he feels he’s slicked up enough, he grips your waist and pulls you all the way down. His big cock knocks the wind out of you. Always does. And your body is already so exhausted from the build up, you can’t help but slump against him, heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder. Your back sticks to his chest.

You roll your head so your tingling lips can find his neck. There you moan and whisper sweet nothings between kisses. One of your sweaty hands reaches up to tug at his ear and fist in his hair. You roll your hips on him one...two...three...four.

Charlie can’t take it anymore. “Fuck,” he grunts as he lifts you to give him space to really pound into you. And oh he does. Digging into your fleshy hips, he fucks hard into you, asks, “You like that sweet thing? Does that feel good?” “Aaarghh! Yes baby! Unngghhh! Please. Don’t. Stop!” You were already so close. And so was he.

Reading your thoughts again, he drops one hand to rub at your wanting clit. And you see stars. Moans, grunts, screams rip your throat raw. The hand still on your hip smooths its way up your soft belly and gropes at your tit, your stiff nipple. “Char-uh-lie! I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” He picks up the pace and pressure of the circles he’s drawing into your clit. And you tumble. Down down down a hole of pure pleasure. “Fuucckk!!” you shout as the tidal waves of your orgasm come crashing down on you. You can barely hear Charlie’s stangled words, “Yes yes sweet thing cum for me. Shit!” With the sensation of you squeezing clenching fluttering around him, he’s cumming. Cumming so deep inside you. Hot thick ropes.

“Hhhnngg,” his final moan rumbles through your bones as his hips stutter, slow, and eventually stop. Your bodies feel like jelly and mold into one another as you come down, trying to steady your breath.

Finally able to speak, Charlie nuzzles his nose behind your ear and places a tender kiss there. “I love you flower. And that dress fit you perfectly.”

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