#charlie barber gif

[zacksnydered]

MARRIAGE STORY ‧ 2019

[hauntingoldhouses]

camping trip with flip 🌲

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

[jynzandtonic]

Ooooo how would any/all of the boys react to turning 40???

*Sigh* 40 is a damn fine age. Please accept these snaccs:

Charlie Barber: Henry's all set up to stay with his cousins for the week so you two can get away to the little villa he's booked in Tuscany for the two of you. You'll have the whole time to drink red wine, make homemade pasta, and fuck in the sunshine on the deck off the master bedroom.

Clyde Logan: He feels so damn lucky to be alive, to be with you. Growin' up with Jimmy, two tours in Iraq, all his adventures and misadventures, and he's finally settled down with you and happy as can be. All he wants is to sit with ya on the porch swing and watch the sunset with a beer in hand—but he won't say no to the butterscotch cake ya baked him.

Adam Sackler: Can't really believe he's fuckin' forty. He promises to put some of his commercial money in an IRA and take enough of a break from acting for a little staycation to fuck on every surface of your apartment together.

Flip Zimmerman: You sure you don't want to have a baby, sugar?

Phillip Altman: Perpetual man child. He offers to get matching cougar tattoos with you.

Rick Smolan: Motorcycle tour of Vietnam together, letting you take photos on his DSLR while you ride on the back of his bike.

Ronnie Peterson: Cabo San Lucas with you and all your friends. He wants to drink daiquiris, sing karaoke, and maybe get a sunburn at a nude beach!

[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. 

[rachoxpotato]

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

Henry's been asleep since before Charlie got home.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s right.

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

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

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

You choose seven wooden blocks. 

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

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

Such a dad.

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

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

“Fine. Boring.” 

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

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

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

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

Well, to help out Mr. Barber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you play ‘WIDE.’ 

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

He inhales sharply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You arch an eyebrow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mister Barber,” you whimper.

“Is this okay, Princess?” he asks.

You nod. “More.”

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

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

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

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

You nod slowly. 

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

You nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart, you’re—“

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

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

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

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

“Daddy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, oh my god, I-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlie growls before whisking you away to his bed. 

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

[a-million-usernames]

Monster Mash

Warnings: Children (Henry) Word Count: 690 As always, you can find this over on AO3.

A large pumpkin rolls heavily in the back of the SUV that takes a turn onto an otherwise deserted, leaf-riddled street of upstate New York. Behind the wheel, Charlie winces. He’s been trapped! Bamboozled! Tricked into coming here at the hands of both his son and you, but most by Henry’s devious manipulation tactics. Who’d have thought a pouty lip and threats of having the worst Halloween ever would be enough to get Charlie to cave?

He cannot recall the last time that he’s gone to a pumpkin patch - if ever - but surely the price he’d paid for the pumpkin that rolls so haphazardly in the trunk was exorbitant. It’s really not that much different than years before, you’d assured him while he griped in the checkout line. But…at least the sheets he and Henry will be wearing have cost him all of nothing. And…

He should be - is - grateful for this opportunity. The last few Halloweens with Henry have been spent in the heat-ridden hell that is Los Angeles. It’s about time he’s come out here to spend it in the falling leaves and rapidly cooling temperatures as the holiday was intended to be enjoyed.

“Are we there yet,” Henry asks from the back seat, his gaze cast outward towards the multi-colored canopy of the trees that pass by.

“Nearly,” says Charlie, his own gaze flitting from the rearview mirror back out onto the road ahead. “Just a few more turns and we’ll be there.”

In spite of all of his complaints, Charlie has gone through great lengths to ensure that this day goes off without a hitch for the three of you. He’s chosen a park, one with great fall foliage and little to no other visitors this time of year; the three of you have your autumnal outfits on and ready for any and all photos to be taken, and there is - of course - the pumpkin to be carved upon your arrival.

And carved it is…

Charlie lets Henry carve most of it, only stepping in to help when asked - helping to sharpen out the teeth and eyes - while you retrieve the sheets and sunglasses from the SUV’s trunk. Together it takes them no time at all to reach their desired outcome and, leaving the pumpkin’s interior on the grass for the wild animals to enjoy, the three of you trek a little deeper into the park to set up for your not so impromptu photoshoot.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Henry exclaims excitedly, reaching for the sheets in your hand.

Setting one set aside, you are quick to help Henry pull the sheet up and over so it drapes properly on him, ensuring that the small eye holes sit as they should, allowing him to see before you hand him the sunglasses to put on. Once both you and Henry are satisfied with the outcome, you turn your attention to the second sheet and drape it over yourself, mirroring his look with your own, soon moving to stand behind him.

Nearby, Charlie is fiddling with his camera, adjusting the angle of it until he’s satisfied before setting the timer to give him ample time to run over to where the two of you stand. As he runs over, pumpkin in hand, you know that he’ll undoubtedly gripe about the remnants of the shredded insides sticking to his hair once he removes it post-shoot. The amusing thought elicits a smile from you beneath the cover of the sheet.

“Ready,” Charlie asks, the question asked prior to him slipping the hollowed out pumpkin over his head, the carved face now looking at the camera.

“Ready!” Henry’s eagerness shines through in his shouted reply, a hand pumping upward towards the sky. Quickly remembering that all extremities must be covered by the sheet, Henry lowers his hand back down to his side just as Charlie settles a hand against your back.

Beneath the coverings of the sheets and the pumpkin, the three of you smile just as the camera fires off a series of photos, capturing the first of many photos the three of you will take today.

[sacklerscumrag]

I literally haven't written for ADCU in over a year but recently something sparked in me again so I decided to write out this little daydream that's been stuck in my head. I'm so sorry if it sucks, I haven't done this in so long ajsdhasjhd

Charlie Barber x Reader

Summary: Just a little fluffy moment in a coffee shop with our favorite director.

Word Count: 410

The smell of vanilla and sounds of scattered conversations spread through the coffee shop as you sat in a tucked-away booth with Charlie by your side. You couldn't help but admire him, sipping his coffee while trying his best to hold the small cup in his large hands and hunching over slightly as if making himself smaller in the crowded coffee shop. It was adorable. Days like today made you often think back to everything the two of you had been through and the days when you craved doing something as simple as getting a coffee with Charlie Barber. 

Both of you had come such a long way. Falling in love with Charlie was the easy part, but it certainly wasn't what you thought falling in love would be like. In your head, it was always sweaty palms and nerves through the roof with a dash of butterflies in your tummy. But it was different with Charlie. There was nothing more comforting than being near him. Your heart was steady, knowing it was safe with him; he calmed your mind as nothing else did. 

Charlie's eyes glanced over towards you, noticing how lost in thought you were. God, you were beautiful, he thought to himself. He often wondered how someone could listen to the sound of your laugh or see your smile or look into those breathtaking eyes of yours and not fall in love with you. It was beyond him. Both of you were doing nothing but sitting beside each other in this coffee shop. Yet, the feeling of your hand mindlessly laying on his knee and your body tucked so close to him was enough to make Charlie's breath hitch and warmth blossom in his chest. But his mind couldn't help but wander back to its factory setting of the worst-case scenario. The lurking thought that you'd eventually move on from him, find someone younger, better, with less baggage was always in the back of his mind. But you didn't. Every day you found a way to prove your love to him, and for that, he would forever be grateful.

Even after all of the turmoil he's been through, Charlie knew he'd love again someday, given the time and patience he needed. But you made him realize that maybe there was a slight chance he deserved to be loved in return. And for the first time in a long time, he was willing to give himself the chance.

Charlie Barber tag list: @fizzywoohoo @direnightshade @hopeamarsu @thepriceofstars @zimmermansbrat @wayward-rose @jynzandtonic @mariesackler @butyoudidthis4what @millenialcatlady @roanniom @veryspookybatbabe @cornmousequeen @lucky134ever @emi11ie @mistress-ren (please send me a dm if you would like to be removed)

[jameskellysgirl]

Hi there!!! My name is Elle! I am 19 & my pronouns are she/her! I’ve been lurking in the shadows here for quite sometime but I’ve decided to come out and write and make friends!!! I love writing angst & love stories. I will mainly only write for Adam Driver and Hayden Christensen characters but that might change later on!! Anyways, in my next post I’ll list characters that I write for! I can’t wait to interact with you guys!

[driverssource]

Happy Birthday, my beloved! 🥰💗

— all the gifs were made by me! <3

[purplepersonapeachfarm]

Happy National Pizza Day

💓

[weareallstoriesintheend]

hi first of all i love your adcu work and second i would like to request the boys with a partner that is either on a a lot of med like i am just a comfort write if you would be comfortable doing that kind of work or if not i would like to see if you have not done any already the type of aftercare each boy would do for the reader

Hiiiiiiiiiii thank you for your ask and thank you for liking my work, it means so much!💕

I am 100% comfortable with that type of work. I've gone with my instincts - in terms of vibe, the few boys I've chosen but also meaning behind 'meds' - but if it isn't what you were hoping for or I'm WAY off please do leave me another message and I'm happy to amend ❤

Warnings: Discussions of doctors, health, mental health and medication.

Charlie Barber

“I know it’s hard,” Charlie said softly, his large hand rubbing circles between your shoulder blades as he watched you pick up your third little bottle of rattling pills.

You huffed, “Actually, no you don’t. Your body works perfectly fine.”

Charlie smiled knowingly, pressing a kiss into your hair, “Now, my age would beg to differ but I appreciate you thinking so.”

You picked up a fourth and final bottle of medication and shook one into your palm to join the myriad of others; all sorts of shapes, sizes and colours all creating a pretty mosaic that made your tongue taste bitter.

Slamming it down you huffed once more, “Your body is perfect and you know it.”

You tipped the handful of meds into your mouth, chugged back a gulp of water and tipped your head back, allowing them to begrudgingly slip down your throat.

“And so is yours!” he protested, an indignant tone taking over his voice. Charlie spun you to face, careful not to startle you too much that you spill the water in your glass.

He paused for a moment, making sure you’d seen the steadfast expression on his face, “So is yours…” he repeated slowly, “These meds just help it to function better, and you deserve that. You and your beautiful self, mind body and soul, deserve to be able to live.”

You chewed at your bottom lip harshly, trying to distract your brain from the tears pooling in your eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the director, not the dramatic actor,” you mumbled, teasingly.

Charlie shrugged, “I dabble,” he teased back.

Adam Sackler

His demanding cough was enough for you to realise what he was hinting at; Adam stood over you at the table after he’d picked up the empty breakfast plates and put them on the side in the kitchen.

He’d returned with your bottle of medication and put it in front of you. Expressionless you looked up at him as he loomed over you, “I don’t need them.”

“Bullshit kid.”

“Okay, I do but I don’t WANT to need them. I’m fine without them… sometimes.” The tone of Adams voice brought an embarrassed pink tinge to your cheeks, “So, the month you spent not taking them, and collapsed on my living room floor just… doesn’t count?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing you were talking utter nonsense and that he was completely right. You tipped two pills int your palm, tossed them into your mouth and swallowed. Adam handed you a small yellow glass for you to sip some water. When you took it you glanced a look up to his face, he smiled ever so slightly but his eyebrows were still pulled down with worry.

Then, following the same routine you did every morning, you stuck out your tongues in time with each other. You following the movements of his tongue like a mimic so he could check the meds were gone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, but right now he didn’t trust you. And that was ok, sometimes not trusting someone to be on their own for a little while is how you care for them best.

Sackler had moved into your apartment, he’d said it was just for a few weeks to keep an eye on you so you weren’t by yourself. But at this point you thought he’d never leave, but the soft smile you gave him back meant you leaned more towards wanting him to stay.

It felt nice having someone here.

Picking up prescriptions was easier when someone was poking you in the back to get you through the door, taking medication every morning was easier when someone cooked you breakfast to go with it and the lower moments were easier when there was a more rational brain around to argue with yours.

He sat down in the chair next to you, eyes not leaving your face, “I got you kid.”

Paterson

Paterson’s smile was enough to make this moment even more joyous than it already felt.

“It’s been 3 months,” you said, grinning up at him, “3 months on these things and I’m feeling… better.”

You turned your grin down to the three orange bottles of pills you’d gathered up into your hands. You both sat together at the dining table, finishing up a dinner that Paterson had lovingly cooked when he got home from work.

It was honestly a moment you never saw coming, your doctor had taken you through so many trail/error phases that you thought ‘better’ was a pipedream. You weren’t fixed but damn it you were finally getting better!

 “A long time coming,” Paterson said quietly, a man of few words but each one meant something. He made sure of it.

Reaching across the table he patted your hand before linking his fingers with yours, “You stuck with it, even when it was hard…”

“And it was a hard a lot!” You interrupted with a soft chuckle.

Paterson nodded knowingly, his smile still stretched up his cheeks, “But you did it, you persevered and you did it. I know it’s not what you wanted but this feels like… a future.”

It was your turn to nod, blinking out tears that dripped down your cheeks, “It’s not…” you hesitated with a heavy sigh, “I know this doesn’t fix anything, I know I’m still… sick… but I feel like I can live now. I can actually live! So yeah… a future. Our future.”

Paterson lowered his head with a low laugh, “Oh my love, it’s yours. I’m just happy to be along for the journey.”

[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

[mrs-gucci]

stocking stuffer blurbs!

just in time for the holidays, I figure I’ll open up my requests. no particular theme for this one, since I’m getting back into writing adam characters, but you’re more than welcome to submit winter/xmas ideas!!

here’s my REQUESTING FAQ, it covers everything you need to know about what I do and don’t write :) please give it a quick skim before requesting.  I’ll be writing blurbs only for this requesting period, so please keep that in mind when submitting, thanks!

I’ve also linked my ADAM DRIVER CHARACTER MASTERLIST as well for a little portfolio of my previous works!

** YES, I will take requests for Commander Mills from 65!! **

(I am not accepting any stranger things requests at this time)

[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?"

[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.”