#charlie barber fanfiction

[jynzandtonic]

Absolutely CANNOT get over the fact that he’s 40 now. I’m being so not normal about this. Anyway. Maybe some birthday smut with Charlie??

WHY IS IT THAT HIM BEING 40 IS SO FUCKING HOT? WHY IS THIS HITTING ME IN THE DEEPEST DARKEST PART OF MY SOUL? Like I just turned fuckin thirty there's not that much of an age gap yet still my lizard brain is like DADDY DADDY DADDY. Anyway, I'm not okay. I hope you're hanging in there lol. Please accept these thots:

(cw: oral sex)

Thumb resting on the side of the champagne cork, you smile when you hear his keys in the front door and his heavy footsteps in the hallway. He laughs deep and rich when he crosses the threshold and sees the silver balloons behind you in the living room, a big helium four and zero floating behind you amidst a mess of streamers you'd put up with Henry earlier in the day.

"Surprise!" you squeal, popping the bubbly and scampering over to kiss him on the cheek. The delicate glass clouds with condensation as you pour the ice cold liquid into the flute and pass it to him, but he's more interested in tasting the sweet swell of your lips.

"Where's the kid?" he smiles against your mouth, gently plucking the champagne from your hand.

"Sleepover with friends," you say, tucking a finger into his belt and tugging him closer to you. "Just you and me tonight. It's part of your present."

"My present?" His mouth tugs up at the corner.

"Your present," you repeat, pulling to release his belt buckle with a soft clink and sinking to your knees in front of him.

He groans softly as you work his slacks and briefs over his thighs, revealing his thick, flushed cock. You pump him softly as you wet your lips, blinking up at him sweetly. His eyes go black when your tongue slides up the underside of his shaft, hands tangling in your hair to hold you in place as you swirl around his swollen head.

"Oh, sweetheart." His voice is soft and strained but his gaze is ferocious, drinking in the sight of you as you start to bob on his length. You take him deep and he holds you there, sighing when you gag and splutter. "You have no idea how fucking pretty you are with your lips wrapped around my cock."

The way you hum in response vibrates all the way through him and suddenly your mouth just isn't enough—he needs to taste you, needs to feel your cunt squeeze around him.

"No no no," you complain as he pulls you off him, reluctantly rising to your feet as he pulls you up by the hair. "Tonight's about you, Charlie!"

He grins and pushes you back on the couch, hiking up your dress and pulling your undies around your ankles. You gasp as he trails kisses up your inner thigh, pausing just before your jelly-slick center.

"Don't I get to have my cake and eat it, too?"

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Most Tragic of Mistakes

|Charlie Barber x Fem!Reader Short Story|

Masterlist

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.

Warnings: Sex (of course), Caligula was not a good man, do not recommend looking him up, age gap, adultery, unprotected sex, Dom!Charlie, the other woman-type trope, power imbalances, workplace relationships.

More warnings will be added as the story progresses.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

[heartshapedbabydolls]

Charlie’s dirty little secret💋

[rynwritesstuff]

Crazy In Love

Movie Director!Charlie Barber x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, brief name-calling (slut, whore), gendered pet names (pretty girl), and general sexy stuff

Word Count: 1,150

Summary: You and Charlie have sex after a movie premiere. 

Author’s Note: Thank you to the people who sent requests/ideas in! I’ll get to them soon, I just had to write this lmao. Feel free to send as many as you want. <3

Your love’s got the best of me, baby you’re making a fool of me . . . “ - Crazy In Love, Beyonce 

The lights come up, and Charlie stands, which tells you that you should stand as well. You do, smoothing out your dress as you smile softly. Charlie’s grinning and waving and lighting up a cigarette, and God, he looks delicious. 

You’re so proud of him, of his accomplishments, tonight and always. He’s so creative, your Charlie. He made a masterpiece, he really did. You’re not good at sharing, but tonight? You’re alright with the world seeing just how talented Charlie Barber is. The credits of his movie are rolling on the big screen, and people are standing up to clap. You could cry, so beyond thrilled that everyone who ever doubted your boyfriend has been proved wrong. He did it. He did this, and he did it well. 

He looks back for you, trying to find you in the sea of people, and when he spots you, his smile widens. You blow him a kiss. 

He catches it, then reaches into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. He lights it up and begins to smoke it. You swallow harshly, still clapping for him as heat forms between your thighs.

People make their way out of the theater, and you hurry to catch up to Charlie. When he sees you, he holds his hand out to you. 

“There she is,” he says. “My pretty girl.” 

You smile, leaning against his arm as you hold his hand. 

“You did such a wonderful job, baby! It was incredible!” 

“Yeah? You really think so?” Charlie asks. He kisses the top of your head, and the cameras go crazy, snapping and shooting pictures of the two of you. “Of course I think so!” you say happily as the two of you walk out to the car. It begins to drive you both back to the hotel. Charlie’s hand rests on your thigh the entire way there, and you know exactly what this means. 

He’s trying to contain himself, behave himself, but really? He loves the way you look in this dress, and he’s eager to take it off of you. 

The two of you walk up to the hotel room wordlessly, and Charlie swipes the card to unlock the door. You step inside before him, and he puts the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the outside handle before closing and re-locking the door. 

You smile at him as he loosens his tie. 

“You look so handsome, Charlie,” you say as he walks towards you. He hums, putting his hands on your hips and pulling your body flush against his. 

“And you look absolutely – mm – beautiful,” he says, kissing you in the middle of his sentence. 

You need him so badly. He looks so good, and your pussy is so wet . . . 

“Please fuck me,” you breathe against his mouth. Charlie hums. 

“You need it that badly, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you say, nodding eagerly. “Need you. Need your dick.”

Charlie chuckles lowly, then says: “And they say romance is dead.”

You give his ass a playful squeeze. 

“The offer’s gonna expire, Mr. Director . . .”

“Oh?” Charlie says, tugging you towards the bed. He shoves you down on it. “We wouldn’t want that.”

You smirk, pulling your dress up as he works at his pants. By the time he manages to get his cock free, you’ve pulled your panties off and tossed them to the floor. Charlie gets on top of you, settling between your legs, and kisses you deeply as he presses his cock up against your entrance. He smells like cologne and cigarettes, a smell that is so classically Charlie. 

You love it. 

He’s kissing you like his life depends on it, like he’s a starved man in need of something, anything. 

“Mm. You gonna take my cock?” Charlie breathes against your mouth. You nod, and Charlie presses his tip into your pussy. 

“Fuck, Charlie . . .” 

“Ask nicely,” he teases. “Ask me nicely, and I’ll fuck you how you like it.”

Your pussy clenches. 

“Need you,” you say, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Need you so badly, Charlie, need your cock in my pussy, please . . .“

He thrusts the rest of the way into you, and once you’ve adjusted to the feeling, he begins to roll his hips. He wastes little time, picking up speed almost immediately and fucking you into the mattress so hard that you can barely formulate a sentence. 

“F-Fuck! Fuck, Charlie! Mmm!”

“Take it . . . Take it, pretty girl. Take it like I know you can . . .”

Your body is bouncing as he rolls his hips furiously. Your hands move up to tug at his hair, and he grunts softly as you give it a good yank. 

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you all through the movie,” Charlie admits. “Couldn’t stop thinking about having you like this . . . My perfect little slut . . . Such a good whore . . .”

“Mmm, fuck!” you groan at his words as he pounds you. “Fuck, shit, Charlie . . .!”

“Touch yourself,” Charlie says. “Touch that little clit for me. Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You reach down, and you desperately rub your clit, chasing your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop talking, Charlie,” you breathe, rubbing your clit quickly. “Tell me what a good whore I am . . .”

Charlie grunts, fucking you faster. 

“The best,” he breathes. “The best l-little whore . . . Mmm . . . Always taking cock like a good girl . . .”

He’s losing himself in the pleasure that your body is providing, and his cock begins to throb and twitch. He’s close already. 

“Fuck, fuck, Charlie . . . “

“My own personal slut, hm? You love taking cock, but I know you l-like mine the best . . . Shit!”

You nod quickly. 

“I do,” you breathe. “I do. You’re the best I’ve ever had, Charlie . . . Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 

He nods, then presses his face against your shoulder as your orgasm crashes over you. Waves or pleasure cascade over you, all radiating from between your legs. Chills rise on your arms, but you can’t feel them. You’re too focused on prolonging your orgasm. When Charlie feels you flooding his cock, he cums with a long grunt. 

“S-Shit! Fuck!” he exclaims, dumping his cum into your pussy. You groan at the feeling. You’re so full of him, so full of his seed, and God you feel fulfilled. 

“Fuck,” you sigh before Charlie kisses you. His lips work against yours, and you laugh breathily when he pulls away. Your lipstick is all over his mouth. You touch his cheek. 

“Pretty boy,” you mutter. 

You kiss him again. 

[justagirlwholikesadam]

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

[imyourbratzdoll]

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 𝒔𝒉𝒆? ft human luke danes x hopeless reader.

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𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ft zombie ransom drysdale x survivor reader.

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𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅’𝒗𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 ft human charlie swan x frightened reader.

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𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒍 ft halfbie clark kent x human reader.

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𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒑𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒏, 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕? ft human andy barber x coworker reader.

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𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒅, 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 ft halfbie jake jensen x team member reader.

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𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒉, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 ft zombie johnny storm x small reader.

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��𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒖𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 ft zombie sebastian stan x fangirl reader.

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 ft halfbie hayley marshall x damsel reader.

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ft human lee eun-hyuk x needy reader.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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 𝒉𝒆𝒓 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˚🧟‍♂️

[cxrnality]

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

[mrs-gucci]

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.

[ladyinwriting18]

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

[maybe-your-left]

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

[jynzandtonic]

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.”

[shesjustanothergeek]

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.

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.

Masterlist of Series

[rynwritesstuff]

Mine, Mine, Mine

Jealous!Charlie Barber x Reader

Word count: 700

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, creampie, brief spanking, slight possessive language, looooots of praise

Summary: You and Charlie have some fun after a waiter hits on you.

(Thank you to @judypahtootee for requesting this!!)

“I can’t believe this,” Charlie mutters as the two of you walk out to his car. You squeeze his hand, and he doesn’t reciprocate the action, which tells you that he really is frustrated or angry or both. Probably both. It’s usually both. 

“He didn’t know, Charlie,” you tell him gently, still holding the small piece of paper with the waiter’s number on it. You realize you’ve still got it in your hand, and you shove it into your purse so that it can collect dust and debris. 

“He had to have known, I just don’t think he cared,” Charlie tells you. “We were holding hands, it was obvious that we were on a date.”

You sigh softly. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not gonna call him. So . . .”

Charlie huffs out a soft chuckle, and you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you reach his car. He opens the door for you, you get in, and he walks around to get in the driver’s seat. His hand rests on your thigh the entire way back to the house, and deep down, you already know what’s going to happen once you’re home. He’s frustrated by the situation and pent-up due to seeing you in this dress, and that combination can only mean one thing: Intense, wonderful, world-shattering sex.

Sure enough, Charlie pushes you up against the door the moment you’re inside, his hands on your hips as he kisses you deeply. You sigh, your hands moving up to run through his hair and tug at it gently. 

“Mm,” you breathe. “Honey–”

“I need you,” Charlie says, tugging you towards the couch. “My pretty girl . . .”

You nod as he unbuckles his belt and tosses it to the floor before lying back on the couch cushions. He pulls his cock free from the confines of his pants, and you pull up your dress and tug your panties to the side, hesitating only for a moment before getting on top of him. 

“You can put all your weight on me,” Charlie says gently, his hands finding your hips as you touch his chest and position your entrance at his tip. You hum, leaning down to kiss him. 

“You sure?” you ask. 

“Always, sweetheart.”

You nod, then sink down on his cock. Both of you sigh. You’re so wet and hot that it's almost uncomfortable. You need this. You need him. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” Charlie says, his hands gripping your thighs, hips, and ass. You nod, breathing shaky and uneven. 

“I’m yours.”

“Mm, again.”

“I-I’m yours!” 

You’re bouncing faster, now, and your breasts are right there in Charlie’s face, looking lovely as always, and he tugs the neckline of your dress down so that he can tweak your nipples gently. 

“Again, baby!” Charlie groans in-between breathy sighs and grunts. 

“I’m yours, Charlie! All yours! Don’t want anyone else’s cock inside of me . . .”

“Fuck,” he says. “Good girl. My good girl.”

You reach down to rub your clit quickly, chasing your orgasm desperately, and Charlie’s hips buck beneath you as you ride him. “Mm, shit, fuck, taking my cock so well,” Charlie says. “Fuck . . .” 

You love it when he babbles, when you’re making him feel so good that he can’t even properly articulate how good it feels for him. He’s so in love with you, so in love with your body and mind and soul. Everything about you is perfect to him. Everything. 

“I love you,” you sigh, orgasm moments away. 

“I love you too, honey. Keep going, mmm . . .” He gives your ass a few quick smacks, and that’s enough to send you over the edge. You groan loudly as his hips move and thrust against you. He cums only seconds after you do, and you sigh as you lean down to press your forehead against his as his seed fills you and your bounces come to an end. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. “Mmm. So good, handsome.”

Charlie kisses you again and again and again. 

“You’re amazing,” Charlie says, tucking some hair behind your ear. “My sweet girl.”

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Reblogging some faves

Barista With Benefits (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Summary: You take Charlie and Henry on a little afternoon trip to the coffee shop where you work, your first real outing with Charlie as a couple.

Not only do you have to battle your blush when it comes to the prying eyes of your nosey work friends but an unexpected guest throws a spanner in the works of your sweet, quiet afternoon.

Notes: Fic written for @glassbxttless as part of @adcuficexchange

Warnings: Fluff, Emotional hurt/comfort, Mentions of divorce

The familiar ding of the bell hanging above the entrance greeted you as you pushed open the glossy green door. The warm afternoon environment of the cafe welcomed you inside, the room was quietly bustling with leftovers of sleepy businessmen, tired parents and a few couples enjoying some late lunchtime snacks.

The day was beautifully sunny and the light streamed in through the big windows on each wall, some of them were topped with stained glass which painted pretty colourful patterns on a few of the tables. Last week you and the new girl who was currently being trained as a barista had decorated the place for autumn.  Garlands of orange leaves hung from the walls and there were small pumpkin decorations on every available surface and tucked into every corner.

You looked over to the counter behind where you usually stood serving customers yourself; however today you saw Jimmy and Sarah hard at work. Jimmy wandered off into the kitchen without noticing you, in a world of his own as usual, but Sarah waved you over curiously when she saw you.

“Coming in on your day off?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed in amusement. Then the door opened behind you and her eyes widened at who followed you in. You smiled sheepishly, knowing who she was looking at before you could even remark something witty to cover you. You nervously tugged at the wooden scarf that was tied neatly around your neck.

“And bringing your favourite customer with you I see” she whispered in your ear, throwing you a wink as Charlie walked behind you and placed a tentative hand on your hip. Henry skipped to your side also, his hand still tucked into his dads. Sarah flicked her long grey hair from her shoulders, giving you a knowing look.

She was the only other barista you worked with who you had divulged your little crush too. Charlie had been coming in basically every day for a year now and you’d learned his coffee order like the back of your hand by his… third visit perhaps.

Sarah often teased you about how you go all doe-eyed when he wished you a pleasant day on his way out to work. She’d prod your side and remark something utterly and inappropriately smutty for which you’d have to frantically shush her before serving the next customer.

But you couldn’t help but agree with every remark she’d made; his soft kind eyes, wide smile and broad shoulders drew you to him the second he’d walked in. He would come in on his days off, when he was dressed down in T-shirt’s instead of smart button ups, and you’d gaze slyly at the bulge of his bicep or the way his jeans hugged perfectly sculpted thighs as you set out making the best cup of coffee you could make. You’d know when you got it right as he’d take the first sip in your presence and make this deep, satisfied humming sound from low within his chest, a sound that made your skin prick with goosebumps. Charlie Barber was a dream; a vastly successful, witty, intelligent, beautiful dream. One completely out of the realms of your reality, or so you’d thought.

Charlie had shyly asked you on a date a few months back when he’d stopped by for his usual morning coffee and you’d been quietly seeing each other for a while, a secret you conveniently kept to yourself up until now. Thankfully Sarah had been out for three of those weeks on a big fancy, once in a lifetime cruise with her husband and then followed by a bout of stomach flu and some sneaky shift swaps you managed to keep your secret and avoid her smirking face. Now you shot her a glare of ‘say nothing!’ and she grinned cheekily.

“Morning Sarah” Charlie politely greeted her and she nodded back.

“Good morning Charlie, lovely to see you again”

Her eyes diverted to you and she gave you a look you instantly recognised, the smutty thoughts filtering through to you telepathically. Thankfully Charlie didn’t seem to notice your silent interaction. You were sure he’d also have something inappropriate to say about it.

“Hot chocolate and cake for these two and…. the usual black coffee for me please”

You watched in amusement as Henry tried to haul himself up to see the cake selection but with little success as his arms struggled to pull him up. You bunched your hands under his armpits and hoisted him to see the cakes on the high counter top. Henry enthusiastically pointed to the large cake overflowing with chocolate, “Two of those please Sarah” you requested.

You dropped Henry gently back to his feet and he scurried to the end of the counter to await the arrival of your order.

“So strong” Charlie whispered in your ear from behind, you could hear the teasing smile on his lips and he rubbed his palms up and down your arms. You turned and slapped him jokingly on the chest, “Behave!”

“Dad look!” Henry shouted, gesturing to the plates of cake being delivered in front of him.

“Inside voice please Henry” Charlie sighed, Dad voice back in full effect and he smiled apologetically to the elderly couple sat beside where you were leaning against the counter. He strode over to where Henry was basically bouncing on his heels to pick up the tray.

Watching them both go and pick a comfy booth to sit in you intended to follow until the older lady beside you tapped you on the arm softly, “Your son is very sweet”

You smiled and opened your mouth to correct her but couldn't think of the right thing to say, what was the appropriate response? ‘He’s not mine…I’m just his dads girlfriend’

To avoid the awkward newness of this conversation you just quietly thanked her. You still weren’t used to this.

“Your man is quite something too” she smirked, lowering her voice.  Heat crept up your face and you nodded.

“Dorothy!” Her husband chastised her with a wink.

“I’m old not dead dear” she giggled, you chuckled to yourself and gestured a goodbye before going over to join Charlie and Henry at the table.

—————

“Something you need to tell me?” Charlie smiled.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you shook your head taking the last forkful of your cake.

“Well Sarah hasn’t stopped staring and smiling to herself since we sat down,” he chuckled. You ducked your head to hide the creeping blush and silently cursed her.

“I thought you said you hadn’t mentioned me to her?”

“I haven’t” you replied innocently, “Not recently”

Charlie laughed and sipped at his coffee, holding your eye contact making you squirm a little in your seat. He opened his mouth to speak but at that moment Henry piped up asking to go to the bathroom.

“It’s over there buddy” you pointed to a red door at the back, moving out so Henry could jump down. Henry hopped off of the seat and trotted off towards the bathroom.

Charlie took the opportunity of alone time to lean across the table, arms resting close to yours before whispering, “Dare I ask what filthy nonsense you two gossiped about when I wasn't around?”

You giggle and run your finger up his exposed forearm, “Probably best you don’t”

“Give me one hint”

You leaned close to his face and gently kissed his smirking lips. As you whispered to him you reached up as if to smooth out the collar of his shirt before stroking your hand down the vast expanse of his chest, “Let’s just say those shoulders of yours caused quite the stir”

His eyebrows raised and he laughed heartily, “Oh I see!”

Charlie grabbed your hand from his chest and brought your palm to his lips, placing a plush kiss to the centre before you nodded behind him at an approaching Henry. You slid back out the booth to let him in.

Henry rejoined you both with a thud into his seat,  “Please don’t kiss in public, it’s gross”

You both smiled at each other and laughed at his scrunched up face, “You’ll understand when your older kiddo” Charlie winked at you before returning his attention to the last of his coffee. Henry screwed his face up all disgusted before returning the colouring he’d started.

Suddenly you watched as Charlie’s face changed, his gaze was directed over your shoulder and you saw his smile falter and his eyes widen just a touch. You turned to look, following his line of sight, and you instantly saw why. Nicole was standing by the door, it seemed she hadn’t noticed him yet but as you turned back to say something reassuring a woman’s voice behind you said “Charlie?”

“Mom!” Henry bounded out his seat next to you, clambering over your lap when you failed to move fast enough, and practically leapt into his mom's arms. His colouring pens scattered across the table. You kept your face turned away, almost hiding yourself in the corner of your booth, and busied yourself gathering the pens back up.

“Hey sweetie” her voice was sweet, a little gravelly but light at the same time. Her face was angular and pretty, blonde hair cropped short around her ears. A spiteful little voice in the back of your mind recalled a conversation in which Charlie had said he preferred longer hair.

“Hello Charlie” her voice was more stern now and you looked up at just the wrong time as you saw her eyes divert from looking at him to stealing a glance at you.

“Nicole” Charlie replied curtly, “I thought you were in…”

“Flew back early” her eyes darted to you again and you wanted the ground to swallow you up.

“This is…”

Before Charlie could finish his sentence with your name Nicole interrupted again, she seemed to have a habit of doing that, “I know…David told me about her”

David was a mutual friend of theirs from when they were married. You’d met him once, he seemed nice.

“Well how nice of David” Charlie said, voice tinged with anger. Something about that tone was new, only reserved for the utter contempt still held in the back of his mind for this woman. Despite them making amends after the divorce was final, you could still sometimes see the anguish he held when he talked about her or when her name flashed up on his phone.

“Can I have a word?” She asked, gesturing to the quiet corner of the cafe behind her. Charlie nodded and slid his long legs out of his side of the booth. Nicole ruffled Henry’s hair and he smiled up at her before he climbed across your lap again returning to his colouring.

Charlie looked down at you sympathetically and asked quietly, “Are you ok to watch him for a sec?”

“More than” you replied just as quietly.

——————-

“You didn’t think to at least speak to me before introducing our son to your girlfriend?” She spat the word girlfriend like it pained her to say it.

Your chest tightened, he hadn’t even mentioned you. Suddenly the crushing weight of the intrusion you’d made into their lives bore down on you and you shrank in your seat trying to turn your attention away from them before you heard anymore. Blinking back tears you tried to focus on the colouring the Henry was trying to show you, “Looks great kid, I like how you’ve used two different blues for the ocean”

You coughed to clear the strain in your throat and Henry looked at you, “Are you ok?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded without saying anything, forcing a smile on your face. Then to your surprise you watched as he looked from your face to where his parents were huddled in the corner gesturing wildly to each other. You felt Henry place his small, gentle hand over yours that was drumming fingers against the table.

“It's ok.” he began before lowering his voice to a whisper, “I get upset when they fight too.”

Smart boy.

You shrugged and smiled again, “Thanks kid” and you adjusted the twisted shoulder of his jumper before passing him the red pen he was grasping for just out of his reach.

Bile rose in your throat as dread filled you once more, all you could hear was agitated whispers but no words. Were they doing this for your benefit or for Henry’s?

Either way it didn’t matter, you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. Anxious at the situation you were in.

You knew when you found out about his divorce and his son that being with Charlie would be complicated at times but this moment felt unbearable. Gathering your jacket you tugged it around you, at that moment Charlie turned from Nicole with his face twisted and burning red to see your movement as you stood. Practically diving towards you his large hands enveloped your shoulders, “Hey hey hey where are you going?”

You scowled, pointedly looking at a distracted Henry, “I’m leaving before I make this any more difficult”

“Absolutely not, stay!”

“Why didn’t you tell her?”

Charlie hesitated, clear guilt swarmed his expression, “My relationship with you is none of my ex-wife’s business”

You scoffed and he continued with hands raised slightly in surrender, “But…I should have told her you had met Henry. That’s my fault, I just got nervous she would get to him before you did. That she would say something that would make your relationship with my son harder than it needed to be”

“I thought you were on better terms? She has a boyfriend right?”

Charlie nodded “Yes but I guess I’m still…wary.”

His response doused you in sympathy, every story of how Charlie and Nicole had fought to one up each other in the ‘fucking each other over’ stakes came back to you. He was wary in case she lashed out, in case she managed somehow to take away his new life like how she took away his old one. The divorce was her decision and although you knew Charlie was not faultless you had always known how much it hurt him.

You both watched as Nicole took her coffee and sat down at a small table in the corner and fished a book from her bag.

“Henry pack up, we’re heading to the park. Go say bye to mom” Charlie called over his shoulder, he looked back at you with his eyebrows raised in soft expectation, “You wanna come?”

Your quiet resistance made his face fall, “Please baby? Let’s go for a walk, Henry can bounce ahead like he always does and you can tell me what’s swimming round in that beautiful mind of yours? I want to talk about this”

Sighing you felt a tug on your jacket sleeve, “You’re coming right?” Henry asked, his wide eyes glistening up at you. You didn’t say anything and Henry’s small face furrowed, “Please? I wanna show you the ducks”

Charlie moved behind you, helped you to get your jacket on the rest of the way round your shoulders. He played nervously with the collar, pretending to smooth it out. You didn’t dare look to see if Nicole was watching you. But feeling Charlie’s reassuring touch and Henry's want for you to be around them, made a wave of something rush through your limbs… belonging?

This felt right, being with them felt right despite the uncomfortable situation sitting in the corner flicking through the pages of her book. You smiled and nodded, “Sounds fun”

Against your back you felt Charlie’s body relax and he whispered, “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk,” you whispered back.

Charlie laced his fingers through yours and from the opposite side a smaller hand slid into your waiting palm. Your heart ached, this was hard - potentially too hard - but something about them felt worth it. You gathered your thoughts and stilled your anxiety, you’d work it out. Everything would be fine, you trusted Charlie and he was right. All you needed to do was talk.

Leaning up you placed a small, sweet kiss to Charlie's pouted lips which earned a hilariously obnoxious “yuck!” from Henry. You looked on either side of you, “Let’s go boys.”

Your boys.

[ao3feed-janefoster]

Call for Requests | Fanfictions

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wOPUf0C

by CatchYouInTheRye

I want to write more for direct requests I get, since they often drive me in a new direction - which is exciting. It can be any situation you imagine, certain smutty stuff etc. etc. All is welcome!

Words: 110, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: House M.D., Star Wars - All Media Types, Criminal Minds (US TV), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), NCIS, White Noise (2022), Marriage Story (2019), BlacKkKlansman (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Fire Emblem Series

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Steven Grant (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Jason Gideon, Luke Alvez (Criminal Minds), Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Rey (Star Wars), Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Din Djarin, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David, Timothy McGee, Abby Sciuto, Gregory House, Lisa Cuddy, James Wilson (House M.D.), Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman (House M.D.), Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900, Flip Zimmerman, Charlie Barber, Jack Gladney

Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Thor (Marvel)/Reader, Jane Foster (Marvel)/Reader, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader, Stephen Strange/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Spencer Reid/Reader, Emily Prentiss/Reader, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Reader, Anakin Skywalker/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Padmé Amidala/Reader, Jethro Gibbs/Reader, Anthony DiNozzo/Reader, Greg House/Reader, James Wilson (House M.D.)/Reader, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Reader, Charlie Barber/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You, Wanda Maximoff/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, One Shot Collection

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/wOPUf0C

[cassieb1617]

ABOUT ME

NAVIGATION || MASTERLIST

Hello everyone! I‘m Cassie, my pronouns are she/her and I‘m 21. I come from Germany so English is not my first language, my zodiac sign is Sagittarius and my Hogwarts house is Slytherin. I‘m also a big Marvel and Harry Potter nerd which is what this blog is about. 

I, at first, made this blog to read fanfiction about my favourite Harry Potter characters but then decided to write some of them myself, later on I began watching the Marvel movies and started writing for my favourite MCU characters as well. 

All the gifs I use are not mine unless specifically stated, they are taken from Pinterest or from here on Tumblr. You can see the original gif-maker when you tap on the light grey name under the gif on the right side. The pictures like the header image in my navigation are nace by me and my divider as well. 

Please be kind when you send stuff into my inbox, I don‘t tolerate stuff like discrimination, hate, bullying etc. I don‘t want any of works plagiarized, copied republished somewhere that‘s not my account or translated. My works are only on Tumblr and my Wattpad. 

I ask you to read the warnings in the works and to not interact with the post if one of the warnings is MDNI [minors do not interact] or 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption so I will not be held responsible when something triggers you that has been mentioned in the warnings. 

A little disclaimer: neither the Harry Potter universe nor the Marvel Universe belongs to me. Everything that you read is purely fictional!

In my earlier fics I used (y/n) but later on stopped using it. All my readers are female or gender neutral and I won‘t write male readers. Please respect that. I try not to describe the reader‘s features like eye colour, skin colour, etc so everyone feels included, inform me if something is incorrect (unless specifically given e.g. gamer!reader).

Some helpful tags may be:

#[insert your character‘s name] 

#gamer!reader

#camgirl!reader

#[insert your character‘s name] x reader

#cassie‘s masterlist

#fic rec

Please block this hashtags if you don‘t want to see this topics/fics:

#smut

#camgirl!reader

#camgirl au

#marvel

#harry potter

!To see the 18+ fics you‘ll have to change your community labels!

The characters I write for:

Harry Potter:

James Potter

Remus Lupin 

Regulus Black

Lily Evans

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Hermione Granger

Ginny Weasley

Marvel:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Pietro Maximoff

Wanda Maximoff

Natasha Romanoff

Misc:

Chris Evans

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Billy Loomis (Scream 1996)

Stu Macher (Scream 1996)

Sam Carpenter (Scream V)

Amber Freeman (Scream V)