#charlie barber smut

[strawberry-whorecake]

It Started With A Book | C.B.

pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader

summary: You were Henry’s babysitter. He employed you to watch his son. You were a pretty little thing, and he should’ve known better than to pursue you… but damn could he just not help himself.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is of age), dirty talk, praise, innocence kink, size kink, breeding kink (kind of??), PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of the book ‘Lolita’

A/N: the ‘Henry’s babysitter’ thing has been done before so full credit to everyone else who’s written one for the inspo !! i let my daddy issues run rampant with this one whoops

Charlie had known you since you were sixteen. He hired you for the first time when he was still with Nicole, before the entirely messy divorce had unfolded. 

You were bright eyed and eager to please, which he liked. He was even more gratified when Henry took an immediate liking to you, especially since Henry didn’t click with many others.

He adored the way that you adored Henry, how you indulged to him one time that you saw the job more like hanging out with a friend; that you didn’t see Henry as an obligation, but as someone you enjoyed being around.

He was especially thankful that following the divorce you still didn’t seem to mind in the slightest to keep babysitting for him when he had obligations he simply couldn’t get out of; or in simpler terms— him not wanting to bring Henry to the theater and keep him up past his bedtime. 

Charlie cursed himself for the way he took more notice of you the moment you turned eighteen— the way you interacted with Henry, the way your lashes would flutter when you wished him goodnight before you left, the way your soft lips would curl into a gentle smile when he’d walk in the door. 

He scrutinized the way he could recall every flick of color in your irises. The way your skin looked soft and supple. He damned the innocent air that surrounded you, the one he so desperately wanted to defile and tear into with his teeth. 

He knew it was wrong, and he hated himself for it. But goddamn could he not help himself when he got sight of you. 

He looked forward to the private moments when Henry was fast asleep that you two would share a small and admittedly polite conversation, typically about the books you were reading before he would unfortunately wish you goodnight and safe travels home. 

He cherished those moments because while you’d ramble on about everything you and Henry had done in the evening, he’d get to stare into your eyes— look over your gorgeous features— and if he was feeling particularly daring and depraved, sneak a glance down your body. 

Tonight was no exception. It was a little after ten pm when he pulled open the door. He watched as you perked up at his arrival and he selfishly relished in the attention.

“Hi, Charlie. How was everything at the theater?” you spoke in a hushed voice, same as you did every night. He watched as you shut the book in your hands, placing it in your lap as he pulled off his coat and set down his case. 

“Oh, you know…” he said with an airy chuckle, allowing his eyes to look over you again as they did when you first arrived earlier this evening. He looked forward to looking at you more so when he’d arrive home, in the privacy of just you and him.

“Henry’s asleep?” he asked, eyes looking over your chosen outfit. The shirt you wore from a band that he without a doubt believed you’d barely knew of their greatness as they came before your time. That pleated tennis skirt that stopped just at the beginning of your thighs. His eyes wandered farther, down to the ankles of your socks and that pair of utterly adorable mary janes.

You nodded curtly, and he watched those lips of yours pull up into the corners. “He had dinner- all he wanted was mac and cheese, so I gave in." you giggled sweetly, "Then we played board games for a while before he went to bed at eight, like you asked.”

‘Good girl’ had almost burst from his lips, but he quickly stifled it with a gentle clearing of his throat. “Perfect. What is it this time?” he nodded toward the book in your lap. You picked it up, outstretching it towards him. “It’s uh, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, are you familiar?” 

Charlie hummed as he turned the book over in his hands, he noticed the way your eyes followed his movements. “I am actually. Quite a controversial novel, but I’ll admit the writing is fantastic.” 

You nodded again, “I couldn’t agree more. It’s written beautifully considering…" Your gentle chuckle filled the room with such an air of purity, he couldn’t help but crack a soft smile as he handed you back the book.

He watched as you stood, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt— his sign the night was ending… tonight, he couldn’t let that happen. He held up a thick finger, “Hold that thought, will you?” 

He took notice to the confused look in your wide eyes, but you nodded once more, and with the okay he slipped into his bedroom momentarily, running his fingers along his vast collection of books until he found what he was looking for. 

Returning a moment later with a haste to his steps as he couldn’t wait to be facing you once more, he held out the book in your direction. “Here, this is for you.”

He watched your eyes look curiously to the book in his hand before you took it in both of yours. He watched as your eyes wandered the cover of his copy of Lolita, your lashes fluttered in astonishment and disbelief before those eyes of yours met his. “Charlie… you can’t be serious…” 

He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m partial to hardcovers myself,” he used a thick finger to tap the book now in your hands. “This is a first edition print, but it’s still in mint condition.” 

His words made your fingers loosen slightly on your grip, your eyes widening a bit more. “Charlie…”

He shook his head, “No, no, take it. I want you to have it.” 

Your brows knit lightly as you looked at him, trying to find any ounce that he wasn’t serious— but oh, was he. Just the idea of your small, nimble, perfectly manicured little fingers caressing the pages before you’d turn to the next one made him more than sure of what he was doing. He loved your hands, and how little they were in comparison to his— but then again, everything about him was huge in comparison to you. 

“I’m going to give you a hug for this, that’s your warning.” you giggled, making him smile again. His eyes followed you as you turned to carefully place the book on the couch before you turned to him again, practically colliding with him as your arms did their best to wrap around his broad frame. 

He easily entangled his arms around you, it only took one of his arms to encompass you, but he indulged himself in wrapping them both around your back, gently rubbing it with his hand. 

He felt you sigh softly, felt the rise and fall of your chest against him as his hands slowly tangled into your hair, playing with it around his fingers. 

You looked up at him— you looked like an angel. Your eyes wide, blinking softly as you looked up at him. Your cheeks tinged with color. 

His heart kicked up speed, he could feel his own cheeks growing pink with fluster. His hand trailed from your back, using his knuckles to caress their way up to your cheek until he took your face against his palm. You were utterly still under his touch as he drew you in closer— his longing to feel you against him was unbearable... 

“Would you maybe… let me kiss you?” Your breath hitched in your throat, your chest stuttering slightly in response as he held your gaze to be locked in on his. Your perfect lips parted, but they made no sound. His inquiry had rendered you speechless, forcing you to nod in response. 

He felt as his lips curled up into a smile, unable to stop himself. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek, urging your neck to crane further upward to meet his height as he leaned in, watching as your eyelids fluttered shut. He pressed his lips against your plush and plump awaiting lips. 

He could feel your heartbeat against his own body, and for a moment he couldn’t discern whose heart was beating faster with the thumping of his own heart ringing in his ears. 

He felt your arms snake around his body and press flat against his chest, he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. The feeling of your hands on him was like pure bliss— a sin he’d so often dreamt about. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand fall from your face as his arms encircled you, finding their way to the backs of your thighs, feeling just how plush and smooth the skin of your legs were against the pad of his fingers as he pulled you closer to him. He let his thumbs caress your flesh. 

He also couldn’t stop the gentle groan of pleasure that pulled from his lips. You were pure ecstasy to him. Your body against his, the gentility of your lips, the sweet and mild smell of your shampoo– all of it overwhelmed his senses and drew him into you, if he had half a mind he’d admit that all of this grew a kindling flame of obsession for you. 

Now that he was in, he was all in. All his cards in your basket. Previously he just loved the small things about you but now he felt he had a deeper knowledge of you that dove beyond the surface, and he was drowning in you.

He pulled away just slightly, his lips ghosting over yours not wanting to be apart from them for too long. “You taste so sweet.” he purred before diving back against your lips, catching your bottom between his teeth as he tugged at it gently. When you whimpered at his actions he felt like his brain was going into overdrive. He was dizzy, his head full of just you and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

Your voice was soft, slightly embarrassed, and stuttered as you spoke. “Ch-Charlie… I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time now.” 

He hummed at your words, fingers teasing shapes into the flesh on the back of your thighs, making your bottom lip quiver as he looked you over. He had you eating out of his palm and that’s exactly where he wanted you. He saw the embarrassment flicker through your eyes at your own admission and he pulled you impossibly closer again– if you were any further against his body you’d be inside his bones, and he wasn’t sure that he minded that idea all that much. Those perfect fingers of yours trailed up and down his chest pulling a deep sigh from within it. 

He buried his lips against your neck, tasting how sweet and soft and warm you were and he couldn’t help but imagine how you’d taste from between your thighs. He purred your name, “Jump…” he instructed. 

He saw the slight confusion flood over your expression, and he pinched at the back of your thighs again. To his relief, you obliged. Your arms tangled around his neck and with a leap he quickly grabbed hold of your waist as your legs wrapped around his hips.

It seemed you couldn’t control yourself just as he, and your lips immediately found his as he walked you backward before pinning you between him and the wall. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he hummed against your lips, his cock twitching in his slacks as you whimpered again. 

“J-Just don’t drop me, will you?” you piped up, a hint of nervousness in your tone and he chuckled darkly. “I would never, I’ve got you.” he assured, pushing you against the wall with his hips as his hands gripped your sides. His lips crashed into yours with intense fervor, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip before prodding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted like candy– so incredibly sweet it almost made his teeth ache but he couldn’t get enough. 

His fingers teased the hem of your shirt, feeling the fabric of your top against his skin. “Can I take this off?” his tone was as polite as he could manage, but there was a hint of order to it, like it wasn’t truly an inquiry but a warning that he was going to remove it anyway. His lips found your neck again and he was pleased when he felt you nod against him, adorable little whines and mewls gurgled in your throat in desperation. “Arms up, sweet girl.” he hummed. 

You didn’t seem to completely trust him to not drop you as you nervously lifted your arms— but just barely. But drop you, he would absolutely not. He dug his hips into yours, forcing a gentle groan to lurch past his lips as his imprisoned cock pressed against your concealed core. The action made your arms rise up as you gasped softly and he wasted no time to tug your shirt over your head. 

He pulled back a moment to admire you– your neck, your collar bones, the bulge of flesh that made up your ever-so-perfect and supple breasts and how they bubbled over the white and lacy confining fabric of your bra. 

His fingers trailed up your abdomen, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and onto the pads of his fingers and wandered farther, finding their way to the small pink rose embellishment in the center of your breasts. He flicked it gently, chuckling to himself as even your under layers held a breath of innocence.

He couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering as he compared you to the little pink rose, so small, soft and innocent— it was a simple rendition of how he saw you.

His attention was drawn back to your fingers pulling needily at his own top, fingering the buttons of his dress shirt. “Want me to take this off, pretty?” He watched as your teeth bit down on the plush of your lip and you nodded. 

He’d never known his fingers to work so fast, grazing from one button to the next with incredible ease as he worked up to the very top button. He couldn’t control his excitement as you assisted him in pulling the top off his arms. He watched as your eyes roamed across him, taking in the rise and fall of his broad chest. One of your arms fell from the grip around his neck, tracing down his pecs. 

He held onto your hips, fingers gently gripping at your flesh as he resisted every urge to dig his fingers in, bruise you beneath his touch. You were soft, too pure for that– but he desired with every ounce of himself to taint you.

His lips found your neck again, and he teased his tongue along your skin, before placing open mouthed kisses further down your neck, finding finality against your collar bones. He could feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest against his chin. “Charlie…” you whimpered.

God– he loved the sound of his name off your lips. It made his groin ache, longing to be buried deep in your cunt, begging to hear how it would sound as you screamed it, trembling around him. 

Your hips shifted beneath his hands as more whimpers fell from your lips. You grinded your core against his hardness in a desperate attempt for friction, drawing a groan from his throat. “You want something, little girl?” 

You whined in embarrassment again, your head finding its way to the crook of his neck as your arms tangled around it once more, holding yourself steady. He chuckled again, diving his hands between your bodies and dipped his thick fingers beneath the waistband of that oh-so incredibly short skirt you wore this evening. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers teased your clothed core. “This what you want? You need attention here?” 

Your pathetic mewl only made his cock twitch again— christ, was he impatient. But you were an angel, he intended on treating you like such... luring you in gently before truly defiling you. 

Your hips bucked against his hand, and his lip curled into a smirk again. He slid his fingers over your clothed slit again. “I’m gonna need to hear your words, sweet girl.” The pet name drove you crazy– he knew so from the way the heartbeat between your legs pounded against his awaiting fingers.

“P-Please…” you pleaded pathetically. He hummed again, “Of course, pretty.” His fingers pulled your panties aside and he finally achieved one of his deepest desires– getting to touch you between those pretty little thighs. You whimpered against his skin, tightening your arms ever so slightly around his neck as his fingers barely even touched you. 

He slid his fingers between your slit, gathering your wetness on the length of his fingers, and he teasingly sucked his teeth. “For such a good girl you’re so wet…” he purred, pressing his cheek against your forehead. The heat of your face burned in the crook of his neck and you mewled. It was so easy to fluster you. 

He stroked his fingers through your core a few times, letting them caress your sensitive nub every now and again to earn more whines of desperation out of you before his fingertip teased your entrance. “Mmm… I’m gonna make you feel so good, little girl.” You whimpered pathetically once more and he couldn’t stop himself from smirking.

He took his longest finger and slowly pushed it inside of you, feeling the way your velvet walls sucked him deeper and clenched around him. You felt like a glimpse of heaven, and he longed to bury his dick inside of you instead, but you were incredibly tight only around one finger. 

He teasingly sucked his teeth again. “Now, how am I ever going to fit my cock inside your perfect little pussy, hmm? I might split you in half.” His words made you clench around his finger, and you dragged your hips again. He took the hint, withdrawing his finger before prodding it back inside of you, earning a soft and stuttered sigh out of you. 

He let his eyes flutter shut as he rested his head against yours, fucking into you with his middle finger until he thought you were ready, then he eased his ring finger inside you, curling his hand and dragging his fingers as he seemed to pet you from the inside. 

He hummed in content at the way you immediately took him in, listening to the soft whimpers that bubbled in your throat as his fingers stroked you. He cupped his hand slightly, catching your clit with his thumb which he wasted no time to rub small circles against. He smirked as your hands gripped tighter around his neck. 

Your hips gently rocked against his hand as he held you steady between him and the wall, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Your walls seemed to suck him in deeper, desperate for his intrusive fingers. 

Just on his fingers you felt like a dream– warm, velvety, slick. He adored using his fingertips to explore every centimeter of your walls, poking and prodding every ounce of you he could find as he curled his fingers inside you.

His head pulled away from the top of your own and he cocked his head to bury his lips against your neck, needing to taste you again as you softly mewled at how his hands worked inside and against you. 

His tongue lapped at your skin before he gently sucked on your flesh, his teeth catching before he bit down earning a shocked gasp from you. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He felt like he was biting down into the soft and delicate flesh of a peach. He withdrew himself before grazing his teeth along another spot on your neck, biting down once again. He was gentle, like he made himself promise to be… but every soft gasp you made made him want to bite harder and harder. 

Every time he nibbled on your neck you clenched around his fingers and he couldn’t stop himself from working them faster— your sweet, kittenish sounds growing more incessant. 

When your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a particularly strained whine, his fingers seemed to act on their own accord, picking up more pace inside of you. “You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” 

You held tighter around his neck, burying your face deeper into his skin as you nodded feebly, more strained whines escaping from your throat. His thumb drew tighter, more meticulous circles around your clit. “Look at me, sweet girl…” 

This time your whine was in defiance, not wanting to draw your head away from the crook of his neck. “Don’t make me ask you again.” he warned. 

When you withdrew from his neck, he swore he’d died and was facing the great beyond. Your brows were knit perfectly in pleasure, your eyes barely open; drunk on the bliss he was providing you. Your lips were parted, soft pants leaking from between them as your chin trembled slightly. “Fuck... you’re gorgeous.” he groaned looking you over. Your expression was motivation enough for him to push you over the edge, and it didn’t take long with the calculated movements of his fingers for you to crumble in his hands. 

Your lips fell into a perfect little ‘o’ as your eyes rolled back before your lashes fluttered shut. Your walls constricted and stroked his fingers as your cunt flooded with warmth. He quickly buried his lips against yours, swallowing down the cries of your rapture to keep you quiet. As much as he wanted nothing more than to hear that sweet melodious pitch of your moans, he knew better than to risk being overheard. 

He drew a few more gentle circles over your clit as he worked you through your release before your eyes opened again and found their way to his. A sloppy smile tugged gently at the corner of your lips and he withdrew his hand.

“Open that pretty mouth.” he ordered, and you obeyed instantly. He plunged his thick, slick coated fingers against your tongue. “Suck.” 

You mewled pathetically as you followed instructions. He groaned as your tongue slid between his fingers, lapping up every ounce of your release. Your cheeks dented divinely as you sucked on his digits. 

He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop and quickly brought them to his own mouth, tasting your sweetness and saliva on his own tongue. He hummed against his fingers, the sensation making his cock twitch again and he couldn’t deprave himself any longer of the need to slide himself inside you. 

“Think you can take me now, sweet girl?” he purred, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip. When you nodded he sucked his teeth again, “Use your words.” 

You whined pathetically before you spoke, “P-Please, Charlie.” His lips pulled into a smirk at your obedience. “Such a good girl you are.” 

His hands found your waist as he pulled you away from the wall, your legs clinging to his hips to steady yourself as he carried you as silently as he could down the hall and into the bedroom. He used his shoulder to shut the door, only continuing to the bed when it clicked against the frame. 

He laid you on the bed gently as if too much pressure would cause you to shatter. He watched as your back arched upward to meet his hands. They curled into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down. 

His boyish excitement bubbled in his chest at the sight of your delightfully matching set of underwear. He couldn’t help himself from wondering if you always wore matching underwear or, if more self-indulgently, you knew by a greater power that he wouldn’t be able to help himself this evening and you wore them just for him. 

You were a divine sight as his eyes roamed over you. The way your thighs met at the top, the smooth skin of your stomach rising and falling as you breathed with anticipation. You were glorious, and you were all for him.

As his hands began to work at the clasps of his slacks your hands snaked under your back to unclasp your bra. He quickly grabbed at your wrist. “Let me.” he pleaded. He needed to be the one to strip you of your clothing. With a nod of verification he withdrew his hand and kicked off his shoes before he stepped out of his pants, pushing them with little care out of the way. 

He leaned over your perfect body, starting with an open mouthed kiss just above your pelvis before trailing them upward until he reached the underwire of your bra. His hands encircled around your frame, pushing between your skin and the sheets on the mattress to find the clasp against your back.

When his fingers made contact he fought against his haste to rip it off of you, instead delicately and teasingly unhooking one clasp, then the next, until the only support the bra had on your body was by the straps on your shoulders.

He pulled away from you, writhing his hands away from your back and to your shoulders as he dragged the straps down your arms, watching as your nipples immediately pebbled in the open air of his room. 

He oddly missed the sight of the little rose between your breasts, but the supple flesh of your chest made up for its departure. His hands traced down your sides before roaming up toward your breasts, pawing at them as he placed kisses between them– hearing your sweet little hums of pleasure returning as he flicked his thumb over your bud.

He looked up at you from between your breasts, as your hands tangled gently into his hair, combing it out of the way of his eyes. “You’re perfect.” he praised as he pulled his lips away from you. 

He stood to his full height, trailing his hands down your sides until his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties. This was it– this was the vision he was waiting for. Your body completely bare for him, every ounce of your flesh ready to be swallowed down by his eyes. 

His breath hitched in his throat as he sucked down his excitement. First he saw your hips and the beginning of your pelvis, then he dragged the fabric further, finally bearing witness to your perfect little mound. 

He dragged your panties all the way down your smooth legs before discarding them to the floor. He took hold of your knees and pushed them backward so you could display yourself for him.

Your whines of embarrassment as he gazed upon your idyllic cunt didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was swallowing up the vision of you– legs spread, completely stripped down for him. 

He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped past his lips. You were unparalleled. And right now, you were his. His cock twitched at the sight, and he palmed himself through his boxers, keeping one hand to caress up and down the side of your thigh. 

As soon as his hand met himself he groaned softly, the excitement coursing through his veins again that momentarily he’d be buried deep inside your sweet cunt. Your awaiting eyes, the slightly nervous expression on your face made you seem ethereal– like you were just a dream and he had to resist the urge to pinch himself to verify that you were in fact very real. 

He couldn’t take the wait any longer, it felt like it was eating him alive the longer he stared at the glistening evidence of your prior release still slick on your pussy. He tugged down his boxers with haste, kicking them to join his slacks off to the side. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of his size, making his eyes meet yours. 

A smirk pulled on his lips, “I know you can take it, sweet girl.” he cooed, taking himself in his hand and giving him a few strokes. He smeared the precum across his length, circling his hand around his girth. His tip was angry, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and his veins pulsed in agreement. In just a moment he’d be able to feel his cock against your velveteen walls. 

He kneeled on the edge bed, running his tip through your folds, making you whimper again. He shushed you gently, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

He coated himself with your slick as he aligned himself with your entrance. He slowly, using all the restraint he had to not just completely sheathe himself inside you, pushed into you. Your cunt immediately clenched, tightening around what little he’d put in.

He groaned, working more of himself inside you as you strained out moans, struggling against his size. 

The feeling was beyond what he thought he was prepared for. You were beyond perfect. His fingers did little to prepare him for this. Your cunt squeezed against him while simultaneously trying to draw him in, plush walls fluttering around his length. 

He couldn’t stop himself, he pushed all the way into you as far as his cock would go, letting out a guttural groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck- you take me so good… you feel incredible.” he praised. You were reduced to only whines and whimpers as you fought to adjust to him, but he didn’t care. 

His fingers drifted from your thighs to your tummy, his eyes widening in admiration as he caressed and admired the bulge in your belly where his dick resided from inside.

Christ, he wanted to fuck you dumb, fuck you so hard that you’d forget your own name, only babbling cock-drunken mumbles. 

He pulled out of you, no longer interested if you were adjusted or not before he plunged back inside of you, his head lurching forward as his eyes shut at the feeling. You clearly weren’t fully adjusted yet from your feeble cry, but not to worry, you’d be there soon enough. 

He dragged his hips back, his hands finding their way to your hips again as he pulled you down onto him– another cry pouring from your lips. He indulged himself with the unrealistic idea that a pretty little thing like you had never been touched before, that you were all encompassingly his. 

He hissed through his teeth, his own brows knitting over the idea. “F-Fuck…” he groaned. He found a rhythm, fucking into you as gently as he could but his need was quickly winning him over as he increased the pace of his hips. 

The way you whimpered his name drove him wild. Your chest rose and fell heavily, your fingers clutching tightly at his bedsheets. 

He leaned over you, pressing his lips to your neck again as he gently nibbled and sucked at the skin, your hands wrapping under his arms stabilized by your head– fingernails scratching down his back as he bucked his hips into you. His cock slid between your plush walls, he hissed curses as he sank down into you, pressing them against the skin of your throat. 

“Fuck-” he purred your name, “You’re amazing.” he praised, making you whimper again. 

You pressed your hips to his with every withdrawal, as if you couldn’t stand the idea of him pulling out of you, as if you couldn’t wait for him to fill you again. 

He bit down onto your neck, a little harsher than he’d admittedly meant to, making you mewl out. He withdrew from your body and grabbed tightly onto your thighs, dragging you toward him as he moved to stand at the edge of the bed. He pulled your legs to either side of his shoulders, desperate to breach as much of you as he could– and he was instantly gratified when his cockhead prodded against the silky, firm makings of your cervix. A groan of your name pulled from his throat as he sheathed himself against it.

Every pound of his hips to yours, every ram against your insides, made you cry out. He looked at the angelic expression of your pleasure before he leaned forward and pressed his hand over your mouth. As desperate as he was for you, he was even more so to not wake Henry– he wanted this moment to last forever, uninterrupted by anyone or anything. 

With your noises muffled by his strong palm his movements grew fervid, his teeth gritting together to stifle his own sounds of pleasure. Your walls stroked him effortlessly, it drove him wild– borderline animalistic. 

Your hands wrapped and gripped around his wrist as he looked over you, your brows knit together, your eyes pinched tightly shut as he fucked into you, each harsh thrust making your tits bounce as skin slapped against skin. 

It was filthy, you were such an innocent and delicate thing, yet you let him fill you up with his cock like a whore. 

That familiar clench he felt around his fingers now overwhelmed his length. His hand clutched tighter over your mouth as your whimpers grew incessant. You were unraveling right around him. 

“Gonna-cum-on-my-cock-like-a-good-girl?” he emphasized his words with thrusts of his hips making you cry out against his palm. Your walls continued to clench, fluttering around him as he fucked into you. 

Hitting again and again against the firm, slick surface of your cervix, the noises he worked so hard on muffling– he was nearing bliss himself. You nodded against his hand, muttering stuttered pleas against the skin of his palm.

“Then cum, sweet girl.” His hips slammed against yours again and as if he’d said the magic-fucking-word, your cunt fluttered causing his tip to twitch as your walls stroked him, your second release unraveling. 

His hand dug harsher against your mouth as he watched you reach your peak– your eyes rolled before your lashes fluttered, pinching tightly shut. You cried out curses against his hand as you came on his dick.

He groaned as you milked his cock. White hot euphoria blurred his eyes as he leaned his head back, hips stuttering only for a moment before he shot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.

You whimpered against his palm, your walls fluttering around him as he twitched, still thrusting into you but at a much slower fervency now. He opened his eyes and huffed harshly, looking down into your fucked out expression as he withdrew his hand. 

He shoved your legs off his shoulders, closing in the distance between yours and his body as he crashed his lips against yours hungrily, clashing teeth against lips in the haste. 

You moaned into his mouth and he happily swallowed them down, panting into your own, still dragging his hips through the end of his orgasm.

You were fucking perfect. He couldn’t say it enough, you were a gift from the heavens above; an angel. He often fantasized about the idea of fucking you– but he found his fantasies were not nearly as incredible as the genuine thing. 

Fucks sake– he would happily stay buried in your cunt til the end of time. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you to whine in the loss of contact as he stood up to his full height and took himself in his hand, withdrawing from you. 

As he unsheathed himself he watched as the combination of your releases slid from your hole… he couldn’t have that. He needed it to stay deep inside of you. Needed a part of him to remain in your cunt as a reminder of what he did to you, how he soiled your sweet air of innocence. 

He dragged his tip along your folds, gathering up as much of it as he could before he gently shoved his cock back inside of you, making you whimper pathetically in overstimulation. He buried himself up inside you, bucking his hips gently as you tightened around him, making him hiss between his teeth. 

You whimpered his name and he huffed softly, “Okay, sweet girl.” he cooed, curling over you again, and writhed a hand through your hair consolingly as he unsheathed from your sweet cunt. 

Fucked out, skin tainted stickily with sweat, eyes heavy and tired… you were still nothing less than perfect to him– perhaps in this state even more so. 

He was filled to the brim with desire for you, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a soft and gentle kiss to your lips. One of love rather than lust. He adored the way you hummed against his lips. His hands trailed gently up and down your sides. 

He pulled away from your lips, looking down over your face as he gently caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles. Perfect, he told himself again.

He helped you redress, as you were relentlessly unsteady on your own legs, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He savored the way your fingers clutched his shoulders for stabilization as he helped you step into your underwear. He relished the way your head lolled softly against his chest as he pulled on your bra, clasping it in the back. 

It was admittedly a walk of shame back to the living room for your shirt, but he’d do it a million times over just for you, for the way you depended on him for his assistance.

The two of you stood for a moment, neither one of you knowing exactly what to say as your eyes roamed each other. You were both, however, in a silent agreement that nobody could ever know what had happened… though Charlie selfishly hoped it would happen again. 

“Let me help you.” he murmured, rushing to help you gather your bag, assisting you to pull it over your shoulder before you spun to look at him again. 

He couldn’t help but smile as the fucked out expression still tainted your features. “Well… thank you for the book.” you mumbled softly. 

After all that, he’d admittedly forgotten all about the book. His lips parted momentarily before they reconnected into a smile, and he softly shook his head. “I know it’s in good hands.” 

He watched as your lips curled up into a gentle and innocent smile. “You’ll call me next time you need a sitter, right?” He noted your eyes nervously looking between his own, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, “You don’t think I’m getting rid of you any time soon, do you? Quite the opposite actually, sweet girl.” 

You hummed softly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, making his heart beat a little harder in his chest. 

He was rather saddened to watch you pull away from him, making your way to the front door– he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and carry you to his bed to rest your tired body, but he knew he couldn’t do that. 

So, he swallowed down his disappointment and unlocked the door for you, pulling it open.

You began to walk out, and he let himself indulge in the gentle sway of your hips as you walked past him, before you stopped, one hand on the frame of the door as you turned to face him.

He watched as your adorable wide eyes stared back into his. “Good night, Charlie.” 

He beamed, “Good night,” he purred your name. You lingered a moment longer, and he resisted the urge to raise a questioning brow, until your hand met his chest and your lips met his for one last kiss– you pulled away after a moment, and with an air of excitement you quickly turned on your heel and made your way out the door. 

He watched you glance back at him with that girlishly playful smile and he couldn’t help but chuckle. When you were out of sight he shut the door behind you, letting himself collapse against it as he writhed a hand through his hair, selfishly recalling tonight’s memories which were still, and would remain fresh in his mind for quite a while… surely until he saw you again, which he quickly made mental note to need you to watch Henry again soon.

You were a dangerous game, but Charlie wanted nothing more than to play.

[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

[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

[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.

[heartshapedbabydolls]

Charlie’s dirty little secret💋

[jynzandtonic]

YOURE BACK!! omg for the first time in months i have stuff to catch up on 🥹 do you have any active adam driver accounts to follow?? everyone i follow is either inactive or left and i need more content!! <3

I'M BACK!! I've missed writing and simping and connecting with other Adam peeps on here.

ALRIGHT LET'S DO A ROLL CALL! If you're still on here and posting Adam content drop your blog in the comments and we can get a list going!

[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.

[adamdriverscereal]

Don’t Let Me Be • Charlie Barber x Reader

You are desperate and you need Charlie to make you feel better - and that may or may not include, riding his thighs.

MATURE CONTENT!!! smut, fluff, explicit content. Minors DNI

It was your usual, busy New York Saturday. Evening lights painting the city as the night slowly creeps in. Things are awfully quieter than usual, probably due to the slightest bit of snow dazzling the streets. Calm. Not the first word that comes to mind for describing The Big Apple but for tonight, it was calm.

You on the other hand were absolutely restless in your bed. Twisting and turning between the sheets. You let out a frustrated groan as you throw your purple vibrator onto the floor. Your breathing is laboured, you are so so horny but you just can’t get yourself off. You are so frustrated you think you could cry. You just wanted the edge off… actually you were in the middle of getting the edge of. Your fiance, Charlie was finger fucking you really hard, you were near the brink of your third orgasm of the evening, moaning his name as you grabbed onto his shoulders. The two of you were rudely interrupted for the third time by Charlie’s phone ringing. He gave up and answered, shooting you an apologetic glare as you huffed under him. You couldn't hear what the mysterious cock-blocker was saying but looking at Charlie’s face you realised pretty quickly that this night was not going to shape up to your liking. He cuts the call with a sigh before looking back at you and sweetly calling your name as he pressed sweet kisses to your face.

“That was Trina she-”

“What is the problem?” you cut him off

“Some mess up with the actor and the understudy. Apparently I need to go in”

“How long?”

“It shouldn't be that long sweetheart. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better Barber!” you swat his chest lightly as he kisses you.

He pecks your lips one last time before hastily putting on his favourite maroon sweater, “I love you honey!” and leaves the apartment.

So now here you were , a half an hour later - externally sexually frustrated. Maybe you would just have to take matters into your own hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rushed into the theatre to escape from the cold. It was so dark here. You saw a few of the actors on stage rehearsing their lines. You scanned around for Charlie, his usual director’s chair was empty. He must be in his office, you thought to yourself as you slowly crept up to the office.

You slightly opened the door to his office and were greeted by a very stressed and sleepy looking Charlie typing furiously on his laptop. He looked so fucking sexy. His crisp yellow sweater, his wavy fluffy hair slightly unruly and his soft soft pink lips just asking to be kissed. He was laser focused on his task and didn’t even notice you until he heard the sound of you locking the door.

“Sweetheart!” The excitement upon seeing you was evident in his voice as he stood up and walked towards you. “What are you doing here?” he asks as he pulls you to him by your waist.

“I’m so wet Daddy.” you waste zero time. You immediately see his eyes darken. “I’m so horny and I tried to get myself off after you left but nothing’s working!”

“Oh sweetheart…” he whispered slowly, his voice a bit raspier than before.

“I can’t do it without you Daddy. I need your fingers or your cock or somethingg! I need you Daddy. Please!” you practically whine as you push yourself plush against his chest.

That did it for him, because the next thing you knew was that he pulled you into a hot, searing kiss. Your teeth were clashing and he sucked on your lips. You were so desperate as you melted into him.

“Oh my little slut. Couldn't cum without my help? Need daddy to fill that pretty little cunt of yours? ” his words make you shudder, you are absolutley dripping now and if he does’nt fuck you in the next minute you are positive that you will die. You have no gap to voice your thoughts however as Charlie scoops you up and yanks you down on his lap, hard.

Your cunt lands right on his muscular thigh and you whine. The look in Charlie’s eyes is something you can’t look away from. Pupils blown wide from lust, his hair perfectly framing his chiselled face. You were lost in your trance as you felt his arms secure around your waist.

“Move.” a simple command, getting you flooding. Not wasting another second, you began grinding down on him, moaning with pleasure at the relief you finally felt.

“Fuck Charlie. Oh God!”

“He isn’t going to help you out honey. Are you feeling better sweetheart? I can feel that little pussy making a mess on my pants. You want to make a mess on daddy’s pants?” he asks you menacingly, taunting you to answer.

You could not even form a coherent thought. All you knew was Charlie. Charlie. Daddy.

Charlie scoffs at you as he moves his fingers you love oh so much to your cunt. You shudder as he gently pats your clit, slightly adding pressure. “This isn’t even your pussy baby, it's a scrap of lace. You gonna come in your underwear like a whore? Go on. Soak it baby.”

It's too much. His voice, his rich, deep voice, talking down to you as he mercilessly brought you closer to orgasm. Your thighs are shaking and you’re a babbling mess, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth.

“Goddam whata sight…look at how wet my cunt is. You keepin my cunt nice and wet for me?” Charlie whispers as licks and nips at your neck.

“Daddy! Want to, want to-” fuck you were so out of it.

“What was the honey? Did you want to come? Can’t even ask to come properly! Did daddy fuck you dumb sweetheart? Poor baby” he consoles you condescendingly.

“Please! Please! Cum! Wanna come- foy y-you!” you whine and yell.

“Go ahead my cockdumb whore. Come for me.” Charlie spits as he pinches your clit and you cum. Hard. You're shivering with pleasure and desire as you cry and wail out. You're sobbing his name into his shirt as you slink against him.

“Oh sweetheart. My pretty baby. You did so well for me.” your finance says sweetly as he rubs your hair and lets you calm down from your high.

He presses a kiss to your head, a quite declaration of “I love you sweetheart.” and pulls you in closer.

Needless to say when the two of you walk out of his office to continue the depraved festivities for the night, you are met by some stares and smirks from his staff.

You should be embarrassed. They probably heard you cry and whine for their boss but you really could not bring yourself too. All you knew is that you got your fix of Charlie and you could not wait to get back home and choke on his cock.

After all, you never wanted him to let you be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!! Hope you enjoyed this!!

(sorry for any errors, oops)

Also posted on ao3 - adamdrivers_hole

[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

[vintagevict0ria]

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Chapter 3 "But what would you do if I went to touch you now?"

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader content: Alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, close proximity trope, smut, MDNI!! a/n: omg- all time my favorite chapter ive written so far. I've also planned to have around 6-7 chapters!! Its been so fun to write this and sometimes I can never stop. When i said this would come out on saturday- I was fully convinced I would have it done by friday and have it out this morning. BUT last night I was at a party and didn't get back till midnight. So this morning i cranked out this chapter on dunkin coffee and a donut. ALSO first sex chapter??!!! IDK if its too soon but who cares! we love a good close proximity trope!!!! I am so excited for yall to read this!! The love and support for this series has been amazing and Im so grateful!! LOVE YOU ALL!! xoxo

“It was mine.”

The wine glass, suddenly and slowly, was taken away and set back down on the table. Your heart was jumping out of your chest but Adam could be far from affected. His eyes were locked in on the menu in front of him. “What do you think you're going to get?” He glanced up at you. You were captivated by him. His eyes. His nose. His smile. It was all beautiful. You wondered if he thought about you as much as you did him. The call of your name shook you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh yeah um- I was thinking of the Ribeye with a lobster tail aaand a side salad.” You placed your menu back down and grabbed your glass. Adam nodded, looking back down at the menu. 

“Are we ready to order?” The waiter walked back over and Adam gestured for you to go ahead. After a while of Adam going back and forth on what to get, he finally ordered. 

It didn't take long for the food to arrive, but you had already drank half a bottle of wine and had no appetite. In order to push away your feelings for the man in front of you, you stupidly assumed alcohol was the answer. “Yeah an’ then he kiss her!” Your mind was a blur. Words slurring together as you spoke. Adam had eaten his food and ordered for yours to be taken to-go. Laughing, you poured yourself another glass but Adam grabbed the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet before you could finish. “Heyyyyyy!” Your attempt to fight back was useless as he pulled back and placed it out of your reach. “Here, let's get you some water, okay?” Adam raises his eyebrow at the passing waiter- he knew instantly when he looked quickly at you- taking a heavy sip of what you did pour into your glass- and then at Adam who had the expression of ’help.’ all over him. This is the last thing you remember- that was until your vision was black.

———————————————

You weren't sure what time it was. Your head pounded and your world was spinning around you. Slowly, you sat up. You squeezed your eyes shut before rubbing them open with the palms of your hands. Setting your hands beside you, you realized something- you aren't in your bed. Or your room. At this realization, you jumped off the bed and stood in the middle of the room. You looked around the dark, monochromatic, room around you. You listened closely to see if you could hear anything that gave you clues to where you were. Then you heard the faint sound of water running in the room adjacent to you. But for some reason, something still felt off. You went to adjust your dress when you realized that you weren't wearing the red dress you had put on. At this point, panic set in. Not only were you in a random ass room, but your kidnapper had taken off your dress and replaced it with an oversize ‘budweiser’ t-shirt. Then the sound of water stopped. Glancing around the room, you tried to find somewhere to hide but it was too late. The bathroom door swong open. A dark mysterious figure stood there, a white towel around its waist. You weren't sure if it was the hangover, but you couldn't make out the face of your abductor. The figure then turned on the light, revealing themselves. It was Adam. You immediately found comfort in knowing you indeed had not been kidnapped. His towel was loosely tied around his hips, his full chest and abs on full display. “Good morning.” Adam spoke as he grabbed a smaller towel to dry his dark locks. “Good morning.” You were now back on the bed. You laid down and hit the bed with a groan. “So, how bad was I?” Adam let out a chuckle, turning to you.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Well, you had about a bottle and a half of wine, passed out at the restaurant. Carried you to the cab and back here. I wasn't really sure what to do so I put you on the couch. Then you threw up all over your dress, and I gave you a spare shirt I had.” You couldn't help but laugh. As you sat up, you continued to laugh but the uncomfortableness sat in and the laughing turned to tears- you were sobbing-. At Adam's realization, he ran over to you, squatting down. “Hey hey hey, it's okay! What's wrong?” You were on the edge of his bed, head in your hands. Adam, who was in front of you, placed a hand on your knee and said your name. “God, I'm so sorry! This is so embarrassing! It was just supposed to be a nice dinner but I had to be stupid and now I'm here! In your bed! In your clothes! God what is wrong with me!” Adam- who mind you, was shirtless, and with wet hair, had this look of deep concern on his face. “There's nothing to be embarrassed about.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Here, let's get you in the shower and I’ll get Carolina to pick you up. Sounds good?” Wiping the remainder of your tears, you nodded. Adam smiled. Taking your hand and guiding you go to the bathroom. His bathroom was modern but mostly dark. Black and white tiles plastered the shower walls.Once you had gotten out of the shower, you put  Adam's shirt back on. It smelled like Sauvage by Dior. Adams' scent was surrounding you and it was intoxicating. Adam walked you to the door but grabbed your wrist before you walked out and spun you around to face him. You both held eye contact for at least 5 seconds before clashing into each other with a kiss. It was a slight peck but it drove this euphoric feeling to your core. When Adam pulled back, his face was flushed and quietly whispered “God i'm so sorry i just-” You shushed him “No it's okay, I’ll see you tomorrow Driver.” A few minutes later, Carolina came to pick you up. Entering the car you gave her a stern look “No questions. Nothing. Do you hear me?” She laughed, “Okay okay” Before the car drove off you realized you had left your wallet and keys in Adam's room.

You jumped out of the car and ran inside. “Hey sorry! I left my wal-” You didn't get to finish your sentence because Adam's mouth was on yours. Then his hands grabbed ahold of your waist, bringing you closer to him. Your hands followed but went up to his beautiful hair. His mouth was intoxicating and this feeling was new to you. “Fuck im so sorry Ive just been wanting to do that for a while.” You shut him up by kissing him. “Shut up Driver” Adam moaned into your mouth, the grip on your waist tightened as he pushed you into the living room and laid you on the couch. A million thoughts were running through your mind- was this really happening? You were on Adam Driver's couch and he was on top of you???!?!?!??! But there was no time for thinking- His hands were already in your pants- well your underwear because the only thing you had on was his shirt. “Wait wait wait” Adam pulled back- face flushed red. “Are you sure you want to do this Adam?” He paused before replying, “I mean we have to practice for the scene in the movie, don't we?” His words were echoing in your head and all you could do was nod your head. When he started to kiss you again, his rough and large fingers started to linger over your sex. When two of his fingers entered your shopping hole, your back arched against the couch. “oh my-'' you let out a moan of his name as he began to curl and pulse his fingers against the spongy spot that made your vision go blurry. Your free hand that wasn't tangled in his hair- traveled down his chest and down to his sweats where he was rock solid. The second your hand started to brush against him, his body contracted and shivered under your touch. The mix of a moan and a whisper of your name left his mouth. His fingers were speeding up and you weren't sure how much longer he would last. Your hand, finally in his pants, started stroking him and matched the pace of his fingers inside you. “Shit- Adam im-” He was now going faster than before, attending to get you to reach you high as soon as possible. His thumb began to rub slow and hard circles on your clit and you were gone. Your hips matched bucked against him and loud moans and whines left your voice. “C’mon, you can do it. Cum for me.” His soft spoken words took you over the edge. The living room reverberated the sounds of both you and Adams moans as you both reached your climax.

Now panting, you realized Carolina was still waiting on you. “Shit shit I have to go! Where are my keys?” You maneuvered yourself out from under Adam and adjusted yourself. “On the table-” Once you saw them you grabbed them and were out of the house before Adam could say anything else.You appoligized to Carolina when you sat in the passenger seat. “Sorry, me and Adam were uh… talking. Got distracted.” Your friend raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh that makes sense. So how did your hair get messy and why are you painting and sweating?”

----------

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[strawberry-whorecake]

One Hell of a Star | C.B.

pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader

summary: Being an aspiring actress, fresh off the press of Julliard, Charlie Barber’s theater company was the first place you put your bets on into making it. However, your audition doesn’t go quite how you’re used to, not that you’re complaining.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: swearing, power dynamic, abuse of power, PinV sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, slight dubcon

A/N: i’ve been writing so much Kylo, i decided to take a break with Charlie

Charlie Barber was the most sought after director in New York. His theater company, Exit Ghost, was exactly where you found yourself being a young, aspiring actress. It was the first place you figured you had a real shot, and after hearing nothing but good about Charlie Barber, it was worth that shot.

The halls glowed a soft orange as your shoes echoed against the linoleum with every step you took. It was mostly empty, only passing about two other people who paid you no mind as you walked along.

Reaching the main theater doors, you took a reaffirming breath as you pulled them open, the doors groaning in response. The theater was dimly lit and barren of anyone except for the back of a head containing raven colored soft waves.

Upon the doors' announcement of your arrival he smoothly turned his head and peered over his shoulder. "Can I help you?"

You'd recognized him in local papers and from website articles critiquing him with high praise for his work. "Oh, I'm so sorry to disturb you," your eyes flashed to the notebook he'd previously been scrawling his thoughts away in. "Uh, hi, are you Charlie Barber?" you asked, taking a few steps into the theater. He set his preoccupations aside and stood, swelling to his full 6'2 height.

"I am, and you are?" He looked you over as you two approached one another, taking in every aspect of your appearance while you introduced yourself. He stuck out his hand, giving yours a shake. His grip was firm, confident, and your handshake in comparison felt weak. Just as weak as you felt in the knees taking in the sight of the handsome man.

"I've heard all about your theater company–I saw your play on Broadway, Electra, it was excellent." He smiled at your praise and nodded his head in thanks. "I'm an actress–er, I'd like to be." You lowered your gaze, holding out your makeshift resume of previous productions you'd been a part of. He took it from your grip, letting his eyes graze over the paper.

His brows furrowed softly as he made mental note of everything you've done thus far. "You've never been a part of a proper play?" His tone was gentle despite his words being vaguely critical. "No sir, Mr. Barber, I've just graduated from Julliard, I've only done college productions..."

He raised a brow, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Julliard, huh? They're tough to get into." You nodded, but he spoke again before you could get a word out. "And please, call me Charlie, Mr. Barber was my father and makes me feel much older than I am." he chuckled softly, easing you into a gentle smile.

"Charlie," you familiarized yourself with the feeling of his name on your lips. "I know I'm asking a great deal from you, being rather inexperienced, but I'd like to ask you to take a chance on me."

He considered you, his eyes grazing over your appearance again. His gaze drifted across your features for a few moments before he allowed himself to peer at your frame only for a second–meeting your eyes again.

"So you're looking to audition then?" You nodded, "Truth is, I'd be honored to be a part of your company, even if I'm not on the stage, just being a part of Exit Ghost would be an incredible privilege."

"You've brought a piece to audition with?" You nodded once more, shuffling through the papers you'd held in your hand and outstretched another one toward him, which he immediately looked over. "Ah, Juliet's most famous monologue from Act 2, Scene 2." his words were butter-smooth, and you suddenly flushed.

"It's not too stereotypical, is it?" you chewed at the inside of your lip in nervousness, immediately second guessing your monologue decision–out of every monologue to ever exist you went with perhaps the most well known.

Charlie immediately took note of your sudden nerves and bid you a sweet, consoling smile. "No, no. It's good to play to your strengths, Romeo and Juliet is a classic for a reason, is it not? It's, uh, timeless."

You smiled, relief washing over you in waves. Charlie's gaze lingered to the stage for a moment before his lip curled slightly in the corner. "We can take this to my office, the stage's just been polished–it might be too slick to stand on currently." His hand lightly pressed against your lower back, guiding you back out the doors of the theater.

Following behind him, you made your way through the hall coming to a stop at a door that had a golden plaque hanging dead-center labeled, 'Director'. He pushed open the door, gesturing you in with his strong hand.

You took a few steps in, looking around at the office as Charlie followed in after you, shutting the door, making you look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry–would you prefer I left it open?" His brows raised softly as he spoke. "No, that's okay. It's your office."

He chuckled, his tone was mellifluous, a slight playfulness hung on his voice when he spoke. "It's your audition." You bid him a smile as he bypassed you, rearing around his desk and taking a seat in his chair, folding his hands together.

"Whenever you're ready to begin, you can." He gestured to you once more with a roll of his hand as he crossed his leg over his thigh and placed his hold onto his calf with one hand–effortlessly draping his other atop his opposite arm. You took a deep breath, and softly cleared your throat, mustering up your stage persona.

You lifted your head confidently, swelling your chest, and feigned your best love-stricken look–though in the presence of this admittedly handsome man, looking lovestruck was nowhere near impossible.

"O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Your voice was desperate, calling out. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Charlie's voice was gentle, taking you slightly off-guard as you hadn't expected him to take Romeo's lines, but you were oddly relieved he had–filling the silence between Juliet's monologue. He ran his hand through his hair, cocking his head slightly as he looked at you.

You wet your lips, keeping your gaze on him because you just couldn't help yourself, he was elegantly handsome.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art myself, though not a Montague–" you began the following part of Juliet's monologue, performing with great ease as it came naturally for you, while simultaneously watching Charlie's reactions to your audition.

As your chest would swell with confidence, he'd gently lean his head back, his eyes drifting over your frame, likely judging your stage presence. "What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot," you took a step forward, contemplatively. "Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man."

Another step forward, your fingers clutched the edge of his desk as you cried out desperately, "O, be some other name!"

Charlie's eyes studied you the entire time, your expressions were one he lingered on the longest. You pulled away from his desk, wrapping your arms around your own shoulders. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other word would smell as sweet."

Continuing the monologue you watched as Charlie stood, breezing around the side of his desk as he placed himself upon the corner, closing more distance between you two as he studied you. You took a great chance and pulled yourself closer to him, closing in more distance as your heart beat faster.

"-take all myself." the final line of the monologue ghosted off your lips, your voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. Your eyes interlocked with his. You didn't speak, awaiting your feedback and criticisms, and the silence that echoed throughout the room as you two both beheld each other.

His hand snaked up, fingertips gently caressing your cheek as he drew your face nearer to his. "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth. I will never be Romeo." he muttered, words gliding off his tongue with ease.

His thumb traced up to your lips, your face burned with heat as he stroked your bottom lip with his thumb, your chin resting in the crook between his index finger and thumb as he held your gaze firm to his.

His thumb edged deeper into your lips, splitting them apart. You allowed his action, intoxicated with his touch and his attention, but you gently nipped at the tip of his thumb with your teeth, watching as his lip curled into a soft smirk.

Your heart skipped a beat–this was surely never the way any previous audition had gone down, and you convinced yourself if any other director had done this to you, you would've kicked him where it hurt... but Charlie...

Charlie had you enamored. You craved nothing more than his recognition, his touch. You were putty in his hands, and little did you know he planned to shape you into the budding star he saw you as.

"Quite the little Juliet you are." his words came out as a breath as he gently pulled your face closer to his. His nose touched your skin first, dug delicately into the plush of your cheeks before his lips made contact with your jaw–his thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to keep your face close to his.

"Tell me..." he whispered against your flesh, "How good do you think Romeo made Juliet feel?" You couldn't stop your breath from hitching in your throat as he spoke. Your hand inadvertently grabbed hold of his leg as your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled breathily as he watched your desperate attempt for friction, but he was in the lead, diving his knee between your legs and drove them apart. He took the opportunity to let his free hand snake around your waist, resting against the small of your back as he pulled you closer to him.

The smell of Charlie's cologne filled your senses, it was robust and masculine with undertones of leathers and wood, while being incredibly elegant and lavish. The scent alone made desire burn through your core.

His hand teased lower, cupping your ass and shoving you flush against him. "Charlie-!" you squeaked out in surprise. His fingers squeezed your chin, making you look up into his eyes through your lashes.

"How badly do you want to be an actress?" he purred, drawing his thumb back to your bottom lip again as he gripped your chin against his palm.

"M-more than anything..." you squeaked again, using all your control to not whine. His face zeroed in on yours, his eyes narrowing and darkening slightly. "Prove it."

He shoved his thumb into your mouth and you closed your lips around it, drawing in your cheeks and sucking on his digit. His eyes locked in on the sight of your mouth around his thumb, watching the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked–his own lips parting in awe. He pulled it free with an obscene pop before smearing your saliva across your bottom lip.

His hand trailed down your body, his eyes following the movements of his hand. "We need to take these off. I need to study you."

His hands clutched at the fabric of your shirt and despite your embarrassment you raised your arms, allowing him to pull your top over your head. You were taken aback as he folded your shirt in half and placed it with care on his knee. He wasted no time to begin fidgeting with the clasp of your jeans, working with his thick fingers to unbutton them.

The craving in your core forced your own fingers to assist him, kicking off your shoes before sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans, dragging them down the plush of your hips, then your thighs, until you pulled them all the way off.

He took the pants from your hands, folding them with the same care and placed them on top of your shirt. He stood to his full height making you raise your head to keep your eyes on his. He placed your clothes in the chair that sat kitty-cornered to his desk, using his foot to sweep your shoes in that direction.

He swept around you, leaving your back vulnerable to him as you peered over your shoulder as he took you in. His brows furrowed softly, "No, not good enough. I need to really see you." Big warm hands grazed the small of your back again before tracing up and unclasping the hooks of your bra. He then grabbed onto your side, spinning you rather harshly to face him.

His eyes draped over your chest before meeting your eyes–locking in on your wide-eyed expression as he pulled your bra off your body, your nipples pebbling in the open air of his office. He draped it over his forearm as he indulged himself in looking at your breasts, his tongue darting along his bottom lip as he took in the sight of you.

"Almost." he hummed, looping his fingers into the waistband of your panties. His thick fingers pressing against your pelvis made your body burn with a mix of need and embarrassment.

This was definitely not how any other audition played out.

With an easy tug, he pulled the fabric down your hips, offering you his other arm to steady yourself as you stepped out of them. He placed the two articles in the chair with the rest of your clothing before returning his attention to you.

You bit your lip to silence the whimpers that leeched in your throat at the sight of him observing you fully bared for him, before he caught wind of your nerves and met your eyes again. "Stunning." he purred.

Your cheeks flooded with warmth the second his fingers reached out and trailed down your side, starting just below your ribs before stopping at your hip. He drew you closer to him, pressing you flush against him and you felt the tent in his pants from his half-hard cock prod against your lower belly.

"Let me spoil you like a real star." his words fell off his lips in a breathy grunt. His eyes searched yours for a moment and when you nervously nodded your head he dove his lips into yours.

The feeling of his plush pink lips against yours shot shockwaves through your nerve endings. It was hot–full of fervor–the way his lips worked. His chest fell as he exhaled against your lips, his thick fingers trailing around your waist, and he squeezed at the plush of your ass.

He kissed you heavily, pressing his hips firmly to your body as your hands rose up to his chest, gently dragging your fingernails down his shirt. You desperately wanted him to remove his clothing too–if anything, just to ease your nerves over being the only one so exposed, but you knew you were in no position to ask, forcing you to swallow down the thought.

The hand not fondling your ass rose between your breasts, circling itself around your throat before gently squeezing at the sides. You didn't have the time to stifle the breathy moan you pressed against his lips.

He smirked as he pulled away from you. He took in the sight of you once more before he grabbed hold of your waist and spun you around so your back was to him.

He trailed his thick fingers down your flesh, following the line starting at your shoulder blades and ending at the dimples in your waist. His hips rutted against yours forcefully, making you gasp and stick out your hands to his desk to balance yourself.

"You're perfect." he hummed, diving his hand around your waist as he reached between your thighs, his thick fingers sliding though your slit. Feeling how wet you were for him pulled a breathy chuckle from his throat.

"Oh you're quite the little star already, aren't you?" his words felt slightly jeering, making you whimper in protest. His fingers worked at your core, drawing meticulous circles around your clit. His hips rutted into yours again, pressing his hardness against your ass, and eliciting a moan from your throat.

He pulled his hand away from your folds and you bit down on your lip at the loss of contact, missing the feeling of his thick fingers on you until you heard the clack of his belt coming undone.

You peered over your shoulder to look at him, watching as he unbuttoned his slacks and pulled them down just enough to free himself from his boxers.

You gaped at the sight of him–his cock was much bigger than you'd anticipated, the vision of it made your thighs tremble and your cunt clench around nothing.

He caught sight of you looking, seeing your knees wobble softly and he chuckled again, "Don't worry, you can take it." He stroked himself a few times, swirling his precum along his length. He grunted softly as his fist worked him for a moment, before he grabbed hold of your hips again.

His hand trailed up your back, gently shoving your body downward and urging you to arch your back. You swallowed down a whimper as his tip slid between your slit, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock.

He teased you a few times by thrusting through your folds, making you whimper out and clench around nothing again. Another mocking chuckle escaped his throat. "Okay, I'm done teasing."

His tip aligned with your entrance, and you bit down on your lip as he dug his fingers into the plump flesh of your hip, easing himself inside of you.

"Fuck–" he huffed, "You are tight."

His explicit words made you moan out as your cunt throbbed, pulling him deeper into you. He withdrew slightly, making you whimper. "C-Charlie... p-please..." you pleaded.

He hummed in response before slamming his hips into yours, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion that seared between your legs. He repeated the action, groaning as you whined again.

Once he bottomed out inside of you he gripped your hips, pulling you against his length as he thrust in and out of you.

"Sh-Shit-!" you panted.

He filled you up so well, his cock nestled itself perfectly in your pussy, taking up all the room you offered him–which compared to his size–wasn't much.

"Language." he hissed through his teeth, ramming his hips sharply into yours again, making you cry out at the force.

He found rhythm, methodically unsheathing from you before thrusting in again. "God–you feel so good." he praised, squeezing at your hips.

Your brows knit as he hit spots of you no guy ever had before, all thanks to the sheer size of him. His cockhead nestled itself against your cervix, prodding it insistently.

His hands wrapped around your waist, moving toward your lower tummy where he felt himself inside you. "Filling you up so good, aren't I?" he hummed.

"F-Fuck... Charlie..." you moaned, earning another hiss through his teeth as a response. "I need to fill that filthy mouth of yours."

He hastily shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth, making you gag at the intrusion before humming against them. "There... isn't that better?"

You whined in reply, sucking on his digits as you rocked your hips in pace with his, your brows knitting again in pleasure.

The drag of his hips was agonizing, and every time he withdrew your cunt clamped down around him, not wanting him to leave you. He groaned every time you pulled him back in, driving his fingers deeper into your mouth again making you gag once more.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, quickly placing them on your waist, "Turn around, I need to see that pretty face." He simultaneously pulled out of you, making you whine as a brief emptiness settled over your insides. He spun you around so you now faced him, leaning against your arms for leverage, and he wasted no time to bury his cock deep inside you again.

He watched as your eyes nearly shut and your brows furrowed together, absolutely drunk on his dick. He leaned forward, placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses on your breast, keeping one hand on your hip as the other kneaded at your opposite. He groaned against your flesh, his hot breath exhaling from his nose as it dug softly against you.

He pulled away from your chest, moving his lips up to your neck as he fucked into you. "You're absolutely gorgeous like this–" he panted against your skin. You could only moan in response. "You take me so, so well."

You were already teetering on the edge of ecstasy, which you hardly ever did off pure penetration, but he hit every fucking mark.

You looked up at him rather pathetically, the knot in your core tightening incredibly as you looked at him. His brows were furrowed in focus, his forehead had a soft sheen of sweat, and his lips parted as he breathed heavily.

His already dark eyes looked black from being blown with lust as they caught yours and his lips curled into another smirk, eliciting a whimper from your throat. "You want to cum, is that it?"

Your mind was fuzzy from your impending orgasm and the sheer sight of him. You whimpered as a response. "No–use your words."

"P-Please!" you cried out, cheeks burning in embarrassment at your haste. He chuckled breathily, "Good…good girl."

Catching you by surprise he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before diving into your lips again. His thick fingers snaked between your legs, pads finding your clit again. You moaned against his lips, making him swallow down your noises as he drew tight organized circles against your bundle of nerves.

Your thighs trembled at the added pleasure. "Fuck! Charlie!"

His grip on your waist spared, still using his other hand to tease your clit, his fingers dove into your mouth again. "What did I say about that mouth, hmm?" His digits pressed against your tongue, gently pulling your mouth open as you panted around them.

Your walls clenched, the knot in your core unbearably tight. "C-Charlie-" you attempted to speak around his fingers but it came out all muddled. His eyes met yours beneath his heavy brow. "You gonna cum, gorgeous?"

You nodded, feeling his thrusts and fingers around your clit pick up pace–moving frantically–the fingers in your mouth prodding against your tongue as you moved your head. "Cum on my cock, pretty girl." he purred, his eyes hungrily staring into yours.

As if he'd uttered the magic words, the knot in your core unraveled and your arms that held you up shook as your vision blurred, waves of white flooding your brain as your crescendo hit.

You cried out, trembling in intensity as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, steadying you with his grip again. Your cunt throbbed against him, as he continued pace, chasing his own orgasm. You listened as his breath hitched in his throat, grunting between breaths and he quickly withdrew his fingers and pulled out of you, frantically taking himself in his hand as he stroked himself off.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and harshly pushed you to your knees, groans and expletives pouring past his lips. "Open." he ordered. You obliged, propping open your jaw as you looked up at him from your knees, looking between his hand pumping his cock and his face.

You watched as his chest stuttered, his tip twitching and he quickly used the grip on your hair to bury himself into your mouth–making you gag again and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You could barely close your lips around his girth, but did you surely try your damnedest.

His essence flooded your tongue, overwhelming your tastebuds with sweet saltiness as he let out a strangled groan. You swallowed as best you could around him, which he bid you the courtesy of pulling from your mouth as you struggled against his size, but not for long before he pressed his tip to your lips again, making you clean him off.

You pulled him from your mouth with an obscene pop, before taking him in your hand and lapping your tongue along the underside of his cock, eyes looking up to him. He groaned at the feeling, prying open his eyes to peer down at you.

He released your hair, grabbing for your hand as he helped you to your feet before immediately smashing his lips against yours, tasting himself off your tongue. His hand smoothed over your ass again, reveling in the softness of your flesh before he pulled away.

"Rehearsals start Thursday at noon. Be there on time." he huffed as he shoved himself back in his pants. You stood speechlessly for a moment–recounting what just happened in your head. His eyes met yours, his brows raising slightly, "Do you understand?"

You quickly nodded your head, "Yes. Thursday, noon sharp." He smirked softly. "Good." He turned, grabbing ahold of your clothes and outstretched them to you.

You redressed, your skin burning in embarrassment as his eyes kept their focus on you. He only stopped looking at you once you pulled your jeans back up your waist, rebuttoning them.

He reared around his desk, grabbing the papers you'd given to him when you first arrived in the theater room, and he outstretched those to you too.

"I'm gonna make you one hell of a star." he hummed, shamelessly running his hand along your backside again as he saw you out of his office.

You bit your lip nervously, begging you weren't walking funny from your 'audition'.

"What time Thursday?" he called after you, making you spin on your heel. "Noon."

He grinned. "Perfect."

You bid him a smile as you spun back around, your mind racing as you left the building. If your audition consisted of Charlie burying his cock in you, you couldn't wait to find out what was in store for you during rehearsals.

[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.”

[justagirlwholikesadam]

An Affair

Summary: He knew it was wrong.You knew it was wrong too.That didn't stop you guys from being with each other. He wished things were different. He wished he would have met you first and he wished you would have met him first as well.

Charlie Barber x Reader Slight Armitage Hux x Reader

Charlie stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants as he stared ahead. People sitting in the subway looked at Charlie in the corner of their eyes. Honestly they were a bit scared at the tall man standing in the subway staring into space with a pout. His eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

He felt a warm sensation fill his chest as he remembered you.

He could hear your laughter and your voice in the subway. Three days ago Charlie and you took the same train and were talking about a few shows he was thinking of directing.

He stood in front of you as you leaned against the closed doors of the subway. Both of you ignored the people around you that night. Charlie could taste the wine from your mouth as he kissed you deeply. He moaned softly when you pulled away. Your fingers ran through his dark locks as you kissed him again. He had invited you to a nice Italian restaurant uptown after work. Afterwards you walked with him to Skywalker's Bar. He stood near you and he held you tightly so you wouldn't fall over whenever the subway would hit a bump or make a stop.

The tip of his ears turned pink when he felt you lean against him. Your face pressed against his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He smiled and kissed the top of your head. He was happy, you gave him physical contact. Something he was missing, something he was craving for so long.

His memory faded away as the doors opened and new passengers walked inside. Charlie heavily sighs as the train begins to move again. He stared out of the subway window. The skies were dark and the grey clouds were covering over the city matching his mood. He looked away when the subway went underground. He stared at his own reflection for a moment before staring on top of the half rip ads that were marked with graffiti.

He's so tired. So angry.

Charlie ignored the people around him as they passed by him to get off at their stop.

He came home that afternoon after working late in the theater. He was tired and just wanted to sleep on the couch. That's where he was currently sleeping. It's been months since Charlie and Nicole were having problems. Charlie slept on the couch, he wanted Nicole to be more comfortable so he gave her the bed. He made it home and was about to go to the living room when Nicole started to scream her head off at him. It's always the same thing. Apparently he never made time for her or Henry. He stared at her for a moment before screaming at her.

"You left us for two fucking months to go to LA for a show" He yelled pointing a finger at her.

"How dare you say that I don't have any time for my own son." Charlie yelled. It was true, Nicole left for a short tv show months ago. She left Henry with Charlie all by themselves.

The sudden halt of the train caused Charlie to get out of his haze and look out the window.

He was here.

He quickly made his way out of the subway to the staircase that led up to the streets of upstate New York. He walked down the streets as he stuffed his hands in his coat pocket. He sighed happily as he found his lighter. Quickly going to the corner store to buy a pack of Marlboro. He lit a cigarette up at the red light, he inhaled the nicotine deep into his lungs.

"Fuck off." Nicole yelled at him pushing him out of the apartment.

That's when he decided to go to you. He knew he should have called you first. If you were busy then he would just go to a bar and drink his sorrows away but you were the first person he thought of.

You were always the first person he thought of.

Charlie across the street and stopped when he saw you. He threw the bud of his cigarette to the ground and looked ahead at you. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you.

He knew you had just come out of work. You wore a pair of black jeans with black chelsea boots. The green pea coat he bought you for your birthday was wrapped around you. He saw you raising your laptop bag up to your right shoulder as you opened your mailbox in front of the building complex. He softly frowned at the sight of your wedding ring.

He knew it was wrong.

You knew it was wrong too.

That didn't stop you guys from being with each other. He wished things were different. He wished he would have met you first and he wished you would have met him first as well.

He watched you go inside the building and leaned against the light post on the street corner. He took his phone out of his back pocket and rang you up.

He lit another cigarette as the phone rang.

"Hello, love." He smiled as he heard your voice.

"Hey, hun. How are you?" He said softly, taking a drag.

"I'm alright. Just came home from work. I'm a bit tired. What about you, love? Working late again?" You asked him. He couldn't help but enjoy the warmth feeling fluttering in his stomach as you asked him about his day and his well-being.

"I'm ok." Charlie answered softly. He mentally groaned at his weak response.

"You sure, love?" You asked him. Charlie bit his tongue at your question. He threw his cigarette to the ground and cleared his throat

'You sure, love?' Your question repeats in his mind.

My god, how much he loved that. He loved when you called him love, or baby. Or any nickname you gave him.

"Charlie?" You called out. Charlie shook his head at himself. He gets so into his head when thinking about you.

"Yeah. I just got into a fight with Nicole and she threw me out." He told you.

"Do you want to spend the night? Where's Henry?" You asked him.

"He's spending the weekend with his friend, sleepover." Charlie answered you.

"That's good, love. Do have a place to stay or you want to come.."

"I miss you." Charlie blurted out as he held the phone tightly over his ear. He shivered when the cold breeze ran over him.

He heard you laugh softly and replied. "I miss you too. Armitage isn't here. He left today to Ireland for work."

"That's good." Charlie said with a smile. Your husband wasn't here.

"Where are you?" You asked him. Charlie looked down at his feet at your question.

"Outside." He said shyly. He heard your door open through the phone and the call ended. He looked ahead again and saw you standing outside near the door.

"Hey." You said smiling as you pulled the sleeves of your sweater to your hands, trying your best to stay warm in the cold weather. Charlie gave you a smile and jogged up the steps. He slipped the phone in his coat pocket.

He happily welcomed your hug you gave him. He instantly wraps his arms around you.

"Let's get inside." He said trying to block you from the cold. You nodded and grabbed his hand pulling him inside to your apartment.

"Beer?" You asked him as you walked into the kitchen. You heard him shut the front door of your apartment.

"Yeah." He called out as he took his coat off and hung it next to yours on the coat rack. He looked around and saw your apartment. He didn't know how you made your apartment so homey.

Meow

Charlie looked down and saw Millicent. He smiled at the cat as he bent down. The fluffy orange cat happily purred against Charlie's hand.

"Hey, Mill." Charlie whispered while scratching behind the cat's ear.

"I swear to god, you love that cat more than me." Charlie looked up and saw you leaning against the door frame of the living room with a beer in your hand.

"Definitely not true." Charlie told you as he stood up and walked towards you. He took the beer bottle from your hands and placed it on the coffee table by the couch.

He looked down at you as he walked closer to you.

"Are you ok?" You asked him softly as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Charlie hummed as he nodded at you. He slips his arms over your shoulders tugging you closer to him.

"Don't lie to me." You told him staring into his warm brown eyes.

You knew when he was lying to you. His eyes were bloodshot, he smelled like cigarettes. Charlie only smoked when he was horribly stressed.

"I'm just tired." He said softly as you rubbed his back. Charlie brought his left hand to your cheek.

"I'm tired. I just wish we could..." He said but stopped when he saw his wedding ring. You knew what he saw. You felt the cold metal band of his ring against your cheek. You pulled away from him and walked to the kitchen.

Charlie frowned when you walked away from him.

"Are you hungry? I'm sure you didn't eat anything today." You called out from the kitchen. You took the cold cuts from the fridge and placed them on the kitchen counter. You stopped and braced yourself over the counter. You looked down at your hands and saw your own wedding ring.

You always ignored the guilt every time you were with Charlie.

'How can something be so wrong, feel so good?!.' You thought to yourself.

Truth be told you love Armitage, you did but you didn't love him like you love with Charlie.

You were young when you married Armitage. You were in love with how much of a gentleman he was, his accent. You adored his red hair and his interests in cats but when he started working for a new company, The First Order. You started seeing less and less of him. His temper was now violent. If there was any bad news at work, a book or a cup would be thrown across the room.

He never hurt you but he yelled at you and you were never the one to stand quiet. You would never let a man speak that way to you. That's when the fights would start. Screaming matches. Objects were being thrown. Doors being slam shut. When the fights would be too much, you would leave him during his rant and go on a walk. You knew you had to do that because if you didn't you were going to jail for killing the ginger man.

You remember the night you met Charlie. It was one of the nights that the fight you had with Armitage was just nasty. Names were being called and the fight ended with you slapping him across the face. You ran to the train station with tears rolling down your face. You needed to get out.

When you got off the subway you were near where you worked. You knew Armitage would never get into the subway due to it being in his word 'unsanitary' so you were safe. You walked down the streets of New York and made your way to the nearest bar.

Skywalker's Bar was written in red font on the banner.

You enter the bar with a frown. You never see a bar so empty on a Friday night. The smell of cigarettes and stale beers filled the bar. Not really wanting to walk more, you decided to stay. You sat on the nearest bar stool.

In the corner of your eye you saw a tall man sitting four bar stool away. You looked ahead and saw your reflection in the mirror that they had hanging in front of the bar, quickly fixing yourself up. You looked away when the bartender made his way towards you.

"What can I get you, darling?" The bartender said with a flirty smile.

You ignored the flirty smile and told him. "Double whiskey. On the rocks."

You noticed the bartender froze at your request. He looked surprised at your choice of drink. You also noticed the tall man glance at you but quickly looked away when you made eye contact with him.

"Coming right up, darling." The bartender told you with a wink.

You looked away and grabbed your phone from your bag. You looked at your phone and saw Armitage had been blowing up your phone non stop.

'I'm sorry. Ok.'

'Pick up the phone. Y/n! Pick up the phone.'

'I'm sorry for what I said. Just come back home.'

You rolled your eyes at his messages. You shut your phone when the bartender brought your drink and left to attend the new people that just came in.

You took a gulp from the drink and let out a small wince as you felt the whiskey burn your throat.

"Rough night?" You heard a deep voice ask.

You looked at your right and saw the tall man looking at you. He was oddly attractive. He had dark locks that stopped at his broad shoulders. His lips were a nice color of pink and large. His nose stood out proud. He wore a dark suit with a white button down shirt. You noticed the top buttons on his white shirt were undone showing his pale skin. You noticed his eyes were a lovely shade of honey. You also noticed his eyes were bloodshot as well.

'Has he been crying too?' You thought to yourself.

"Is it that obvious?" You said as you took another gulp from your glass. The man chuckled as he bought his drink up to his mouth.

He leaned back in his seat and looked at you again.

"Charlie."

You nodded and answered "Y/n."

"Rough night too?" You asked him as you held your glass in your hands.

He took a deep breath loudly and gave you a nod.

"Yeah, you can say that." Charlie said as he looked away from you.

He didn't know what caused him to get this much confidence to talk to you. The moment he saw you entering the bar, he saw you from the mirror ahead of him. You looked beautiful. He saw how flushed your cheeks looked. He definitely noticed your eyes too. He knew you were crying. He's been crying alot too. He saw you take off your jacket and placed it in the stool. His eyes rank up and down your body and quickly looked away as he felt something stirred in his pants.

He saw the curly haired bartender flirting with you and giving you googling eyes but you completely ignored him. He wasn't going to say anything to you until he heard your drink order. Never in his life had he heard a girl order such a drink. He looked over at you and saw you were being serious. He looked away when you glanced at him.

He heard the bartender call you darling and walk away to make your drink. In the corner of his eyes he saw when you grabbed your phone from your shoulder bag. He heard you sighed as you scrolled through your phone.

He took a sip from drink and looked towards you.

'Fuck it' he thought to himself.

He wanted to make conversation with you. He honestly never made small talk with any woman since he was married. He always works at the theater and when he was at the bar, it was always with his coworkers and Nicole. This was the first time in years he was at a bar by himself.

When he asked you 'Rough Night?' He wanted to smack himself in the face for such a short sentence. He was surprised when you answered back at him.

Just like that the conversation started between you and him. Around midnight and five whisky doubles both of you sat next to each other and talked. He told you that he was a theater director and lived just a few blocks away from the bar. Both of you found it easy to talk amongst each other. When the topic came up about relationship. Both of you stood quiet because both of you saw each other's wedding ring. You saw his silver band on his left hand just as he saw yours. He couldn't stop staring at it every time you grabbed the glass cup with your left hand.

"Where's your husband?" Charlie asked you quietly after the bartender left another pair of drinks on the counter. You drowned the drink you had in your hand quickly.

"Home." You told him looking over at him as you placed the empty glass on the bar.

"Your wife?" You asked him.

"Home too." He said and took a drink.

"Kicked me out. Not the first time, she has done it." He told you as he placed the drink on the counter next to yours.

"I walked out. Not the first time as well but I slapped him for the first time ever." Charlie raised his eyebrows at you and nodded. You bit your bottom lip as you felt your cheeks blushed around. You were a bit embarrassed that you told Charlie that. You knew it was the liquor making you talk.

"Did he deserve it?" He asked you.

"Yes." You answered quickly with a sigh.

"He called me a fucking cunt." You told him as you stared down at the amber drink from the new glass you got. Charlie cleared his throat as he frowned at your words. He could see your eyes staring sadly down at your drink.

"He absolutely deserves it then." You looked over at Charlie when he spoke. You smiled at his response. He gave you a smile and you just couldn't help smile wider at the sight of his dimples.

That night was the first time you cheated on your husband as well for Charlie. He told you later that night that he almost slept with one of his coworker but he just couldn't do it. Charlie got a hotel room that night after the curly bartender yelled out last call. Both of you were extremely drunk and it happened when both of you stepped outside. You shriek as you felt the cold New York air.

"Shit!" Charlie yelled buttoning his coat as he shivered next to you. He immediately tugged you closer to him and without a thought you wrapped your arms around him. He looked down at you for a moment. His cock twitched at the sight of you licking your lips. He was staring at your lips the whole night. He was quite jealous at the whiskey that touched your lips all night. The tip of your nose was pink. Your cheeks were a bit red from the harsh cold winds. He leaned down and kissed you in front of the bar. When he pulled away, Charlie was about to apologize but you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him for another kiss. The night ended with both of you moaning and panting against each other. Charlie woke up alone the next morning, he saw a handwritten note you placed on the nightstand.

Thank you for the drinks. In the corner of the paper, he saw your number.

It was a few days later when Charlie decided to call you. The memory of you smiling and laughing filled his mind during work and on his way home. He had to admit you absolutely bewitched him. He hasn't felt this feeling in so long. You were so different, so refreshing.

He called you and asked you out for dinner. You accepted it and met him later that day. Night ended with the same hotel room.

A year has passed and honestly it's been the best. Both of you didn't say anything about feelings for a while. It was mostly both you hanging out and sleeping with each other but Charlie fell head over heels for you. Coffee dates, dinner dates, and long walks in Central park. Reading a few plays that Charlie was thinking about working with. Charlie had even gone far to introduce you to his friends at the theater but of course he told them that you were just friends. You did the same when you were invited to a dinner at work. Charlie watched you as you talked among your friends and coworkers. He watched with awed as you laughed and talked. He liked that you always got him into the conversation with your friends and coworkers. You didn't make him feel like an outcast. You never made him feel like he was doing something wrong or if he was falling short. The moment he knew that he loved you, truly loved you was when you gave him a small present. Charlie stared at the Spiderman wrapping paper in his hand. His eyes widened when he saw Henry's name on the corner of the gift.

"I remembered you told me he likes Spiderman and that his birthday is this weekend. Just a little something for him." You told him and he could see you were a bit nervous it made him smile.

Charlie told you about Henry when you first met him. He had shown you the small pictures he had in his wallet. Henry's school pictures and school trips were safely kept in his leather wallet.

"Thank you. He's gonna love it." Charlie said giving you a kiss.

One of the things Charlie didn't regret was his son. He loves his son. When he saw the gift you got for his son. His heart soared. You meet Henry later that weekend. You smiled at the boy who held his Spiderman action figure in one hand and the other he was holding a small plate of ice cream cake. Charlie told you that Henry saved you a piece and wanted to give it to you himself.

When Henry entered your apartment, he fell in love with the big, fluffy orange cat. Millicent happily rolled over on her back and let the little boy rub her belly. Charlie watched you with a smile as you kneeled down next to Henry. You looked up and saw Charlie with watery eyes.

"Have you heard anything of her?" You whispered to him when you got up.

"She called for his birthday. Two months is almost gone. She said she'll be coming back next week." Charlie said as he looked at his son then at you. You felt him grab your hand pulling you near him.

"Who's that?" Henry said, pointing at a picture hanging from the wall above the couch. Charlie looked at the picture and frowned.

You pulled away from Charlie and followed Henry who walked towards it and looked at it with wide eyes.

"That's my husband, Armitage. The picture was taken the day of our wedding." You told Henry.

Charlie listened as Henry asked you more about your husband. He was a bit jealous as he saw the pictures that Henry pointed out in the apartment. His brown eyes stared at the pictures of you with Armitage. Some were of him hugging you, others were you at a dinner with Armitage. He looked at your wedding picture and just for a second he imagined himself in Armitage place.

The day that you told Charlie that Armitage was a bit violent. He wanted to kill him and he was so upset about how so nonchalant you said. You told him while Charlie was cuddling with you, naked bodies against each other. Charlie stopped kissing your shoulder when he heard you and sat up to look at you.

You never seen Charlie so serious before. He came closer to you and asked you if Armitage had ever hit you. You shook your head and Charlie stood silent. Charlie told you that night about his parents and how his childhood was filled with the abuse of alcohol and screaming. You could imagine young Charlie Barber under his bedsheet at night covering his ears as his parents yelled in the other room. Both of you held each other close that night.

Charlie followed you to the kitchen and saw you leaning over the counter. He walked behind you and hugged you close to his chest. You instantly held his arms that rested in front of you.

"I've been thinking a lot." He told you.

"That's never a good thing." You joked trying to ease your anxiety that was caused by his words. You dreaded what was going to happen next. The first thing that popped in your head was that he wanted to end things. Maybe he got tired of you.

Charlie laughs as he tugs you closer to his chest.

"I'm thinking about divorcing Nicole."

You froze at his words. When Charlie didn't get a response from you. He turned you around to face him. He looks down at you with a worried face.

"I don't love her anymore. I haven't loved her for a year. I'm not happy with her. I'm not happy." He said softly.

You placed your hands on his chest.

"Please say something." Charlie begged.

"You should do whatever makes you happy." You tell him as he tugs on the belt hoops of your jeans. He nods and tells you.

"I want to be with you. You make me happy." You smile at him.

"I want to be with you too." You tell him truthfully.

"Divorce Armitage, Y/n. I know you don't love him. Be with me. Tell me you don't love him." Charlie tells you. You were thinking about it for months, divorcing Armitage. Charlie telling you this was the push you needed to make it happen.

"I don't love him." You said.

You nod at him. "Ok. I'll do it. We can be together."

Charlie smiles widely. "Together. I want to show you off. Bring you everywhere."

"Is that so?" You ask with a smirk.

"Yes, kitten." Charlie whispered as he leaned down to kiss you.

You grin against his lips wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him to you.

Kissing Charlie was something you never experienced. He gave so much. He kissed you like it would be his last kiss.

You giggled when Charlie picks you and places you on the kitchen counter. He pulls away from you and parts your legs so he gets in between.

"Say it." He whispers to you leaning his forehead against yours. You push his hair from his face as he holds you.

"I'm yours. All yours." His eyes lit up at your words.

Your hands find their way to his shirt. Unbutton them, wanting to feel him. He bits his bottom lip as he feels your nails run up and down his bare chest leaving light red marks. He kisses your neck as you unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

"Mine." You whispered as you held his hard thick cock in your hands. He groans as you jerk him off gently.

"Yours, Kitten." He said out of breath as you jerked him off. His cock was hot, you rub your thumb over the head of his cock with his precum.

"I want to do something." He tells you, making you look up at him.

He stood up straight and took a deep breath. He looks down at his hands and takes his wedding ring off. He places it on the counter next to you. You watch the look of relief wash over him.

He was free. Not physically yet, or on paper but he is emotionally and mentally free now. He was free from the guilt and drama because he was going to be with you now.

You take your hand away from him and do the same. Charlie lets out a wide smile when you drop your rings next to his. You both share a look and let out a laugh.

Both of you are free now.

He leans down to kiss you again. Both of you mumbled the future together as you continued to jerk him off. You told him how you were going to leave your husband. He told you how he would do the same with Nicole. He promised you a new life. A happy life. He carries you to the kitchen table. Quickly removing your sweater, you leaned down backwards pushing the place mat off the table. You feel Charlie's hand taking your jeans off frantically. He throws them over his shoulders and pulls you closer to him. He pushes his pants down to his ankles not even bothering to take it off.

His eyes stare at your breasts, the lacy bra holding your breasts up together. He couldn't help out but lean down to pop one of them out. He latches on to your breasts. He groans against your chest, he pulls your breasts out of the bra. He moans against your hardened nipples when he pushes your panties to the side and feels your wet cunt.

"So wet, kitten." He mumbles against your nipples then kisses your cheeks to your neck. You moan as he bites your neck softly as he thrust two fingers into you.

"Kitten, I need you now. Please. Please." He whines as he fucks you with his fingers.

You lean backward and spread your legs to him. His thumb circling your throbbing clit as he looked up and down at you.

"Give it to me." You tell him.

Before he can say anything you pull him down for another kiss. He grabs your thighs to pull you closer to the edge of the table. You let out a moan as you feel the head of his cock part your wet lips.

He throws his head back as he splits you in half.

"Always so fucking tight." He groans as he thrusts hard, burying himself fully inside of you.

"Always tight for me, kitten."

"Yes." You moaned at him looking up at him.

Charlie's gives you a few lazy thrust into you. He couldn't help but stare down as he watched his cock thrust into your cunt. You were so wet. You clit stood out as he fucked you. He loves how you pussy held on him as he fucks you. He loves how you were always wet for him.

"Faster baby." He hears you cry out.

Charlie doesn't give you any warning. He just started to pound into you relentlessly. He pulled you closer to him making you moan loudly. The wooden kitchen table screeched and wobbled by Charlie's hard thrusts.

"Fuck kitten!" He yells as he rams into you. You cry out as you feel his nails cutting into your hips as he holds you into place. His tights hitting the back of your legs. You gripped with one hand on the side of the table trying to hold on.

Charlie grunts as one of his hands lets go of your hip. You immediately feel his large fingers rubbing your clit as he pounded into you. You are so close to cumming, moaning as your pussy tightens around his thick cock. You look up to see Charlie looking down at you with his lips parted slightly. He's breathing heavily, his eyes were dark.

Your legs were practically shaking as he continued to pound into you. You wonder how the hell the table hasn't broken yet.

The sound of your sopping pussy and skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the kitchen. Charlie growls with a hard thrust. You can feel his balls hitting against your ass as he fucks you.

You were about to come. The feeling of his fat cock deep inside of you and his thick fingers rubbing your clit was too much, too good. Charlie moans at you loudly as he feels your pussy clenched down on his cock. Both of you didn't hear the front door open. You didn't hear the sound of Millicent's collar bell jiggling as she ran to the front door. You certainly didn't hear the footsteps coming to the kitchen.

"Y/n!"

You were looking up at Charlie and frowned when you heard a familiar scottish accent. You let out a gasp when you looked over and saw Armitage on the doorway of the kitchen. You let out a soft moan still looking at Armitage. You felt Charlie's dick ram deep inside of you. Your legs shook as you were being filled by his cum.

Charlie grunted loudly as he slammed his hand down to the table. Charlie throws his head back and pulls you closer to him by your hips.

"Kitten." He groans as he fills you up and looks down at you. His sweaty brows knitted together when he saw you were looking to the right side of the kitchen. You looked scared. He followed your graze and saw your husband.

Armitage saw the tall man between your legs then looked at you. He saw how red your cheeks were. You were almost completely naked on the table with your legs wrapped around him. Your breasts were over your bra, Armitage can see the hickeys starting to form on your breasts and neck. Armitage looked back at the man who was between your legs gripping your hips and the table. His shirt was open, pants down to his ankles.

You didn't know what to do. All you can feel and think at the moment was Charlie's hot thick cum dripping out of you when he pulled out. Charlie stood up straight and pulled you to his chest wrapping an arm around you to cover you. You can feel his chest tense up while he was catching his breath. Charlie stared hard at Armitage as he held you.

[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

[jameskellysgirl]

FORM!!

Hey Guys, so i really wanna start writing stuff but i need some inspo. it would be really helpful if you would fill it out. i made both haydenverse and adamverse required even though some might not be a fan of both so in that case just pick a random one lol.

thank you for all of the support and i look forward to responses :)