#charlie barber smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberry-whorecake · 9 months

Text

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.

#adcu #adcu smut #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber smut #adcu x reader #adam driver #smut #whorecake fics

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year

Text

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: 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

Alan Rickman Character's

Severus Snape - (Harry Potter)

"How can I prove it?"

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

Communication

Best Friend's Little Sister

Queen Bee - W/ Sirius Black

Bad Day

Birthday Boy

Their Favorite Show

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eddiesfaerie · 2 years

Text

ADCU Masterlist

(Adam Driver Character Universe)

most works are NSFW and contain 18+ content, minors do not interact!

Softer | Part 2 *

Kylo Ren whisks you away to a remote planet to be sweeter with you. He finds it much more difficult than initially planned.

Fructus Tenebris (series) 1. Eripio

You have a bit of a run-in with a hunter in the garden. Gladly, Kylo is around to mediate.

Pet *

You accompany the Supreme Leader to one of his meetings. Unsurprisingly, you become desperate for attention.

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

Kylo and Sleep

So Pretty Like This *

Mirrorball * | Part 2 *

Your first time meeting detective Flip Zimmerman is out on the dance floor.

Going Under

You struggle to figure out why Flip Zimmerman wants to help you out.

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

Losing You

Stitches

Flip and Sleep

Gingerbread

Long Sleeves * | Part 2 *

A two part, chaotic summary of the trials and tribulations of you and Charlie’s blossoming relationship as it’s pushed to its absolute limits.

On Our Way Home

On a late Friday night, you take the subway home with Charlie after spending the day with him at his rehearsals.

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

Date Night

Stay

August *

On a humid, late summer afternoon, Clyde makes you a couple of promises.

Shooting Stars *

Clyde takes you on a drive up the mountain to admire the stars, you see more than you were expecting.

Look At You *

sub!Clyde needs help voicing his needs.

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

Laundry

In The Morning *

More Than Friends

Sick

In The Rain

Snacks

Surprises

Family

Being a Brat *

Horny and Annoyed *

Soft!Dom Clyde *

Tippy Toes

Midnight Snack

You get hungry at 4am. Sackler makes you something to eat.

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

I See You (nsfw-ish)

Double Date

Kiss It Better

Sackler and Sleep

Types of Kisses

Morning Sex *

Caught *

Nasty But Sweet *

Confessions *

Sleepy (nsfw-ish)

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

Sunshine

Home

Bent *

Blowing Bubbles *

DRABBLES / REQUESTS

At Gas Stations

Brat *

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shesjustanothergeek · 8 months

Text

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

#adam driver fanfic #adam driver #adam driver fanfiction #charlie barber x you #charlie barber fanfiction #charlie barber smut #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber #marriage story #marriage story fanfic #wattpad fanfic #wattpad fanfiction #books #fanfic #wattpad

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weareallstoriesintheend · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 9: Facesitting (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Warning: Facesitting, oral sex (f receiving)

Notes: The next few days will be sparse I'm afraid, I'm away on holiday at the moment and didn't have the time to prep properly. But wanted to get a couple out all the same.

His forearms were hooked around your thighs so tightly the only motion you had was to rock.

Your body craved him, so you rutted against his lips and tongue like you were possessed. Captured by the need to feel him everywhere.

The underside of his nose rubs gently across your throbbing clit with every roll of your hips, the motion only encouraging you to roll your hips faster.

Your body visibly shook from the effort and the building tension that was rising up from your core.

He chose that moment to hum quietly against your cunt, sending a tingling shockwave up your spine. Your desperate hands clutched the headboard in front of you, looking down between your legs to see the most beautiful sight.

His thick dak hair was splayed out around him on the pillow, his eyes were tightly closed, eyebrows furrowed in bliss. Charlie loved this.

It was something he’d always wanted, to feel both the ultimate power of guiding you across his tongue but to be at the mercy of your thighs all the same. Nicole had always said she was ‘never brave enough’ and Charlie had been left wanting.

But despite your initial hesitation your eagerness after the fact had only fueled him on. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as he felt the roll of your hips become staggered.

Your begging and whimpers made his cock throb, desperate for attention but Charlie was disciplined and as he looked up and saw the way your head rolled back in bliss right before the shockwave of orgasm rattled your body, he knew there was no one else he’d rather find himself.

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber smut #adcu #adcu smut

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artemisthewh0re · 1 year

Text

BRO IVE BEEN LOOKING FOR THIS!!! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW SHE MAKES IT SO REAL!!

@vividlittlevox

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roanniom · 2 years

Note

Ummmmmm tell us more about Professor!Charlie getting handsy after hours helping you with your TA lesson plan pls & thank you

Lesson Planning

Professor!Charlie Barber x Reader

The previous semester you had been the TA for his class, Advanced Theatrical Production 411, but this semester you were granted a 50% TAship. This means more money for you, but also more responsibility. You’re teaching Intro to Theater all by yourself to a class of 50 undergrad students who have no idea that their lecturer will be a suffering grad student, not a capable tenured professor.

So the capable tenured professor who’s mentored you has kindly offered his services in prepping you for this daunting endeavor. You’d barely voiced half of your concerns before the sweet man had set time aside on his calendar for this meeting. And now it is 7pm on a Friday. The wing of the theater department which houses the professors’ offices has been long abandoned. Charlie had apologized for the unorthodox timing but had clarified that this was his first availability, having had his son visiting all week up until that morning and wishing to dive in as soon as he was free.

You’ve been at it for an hour and a half now and your eyes are starting to glaze. Not because you are bored. On the contrary, you’re riveted. Charlie is an excellent educator – excellent at conveying information and knowledge. That’s how he became your mentor in the first place. You’d darkened his office door countless times during office hours, desperate to benefit from even more of his insight. Eventually you’d reached friendly terms, and when he’d asked you to be his TA the previous semester you’d jumped at the opportunity.

TAing for Charlie had been fast paced and nerve-wracking. You’d known his class was intense – you’d taken it twice by the time you became his support – but it was a different situation entirely being his right hand. He treated you with an immense amount of respect, asking your opinion in class, having you demonstrate different disciplines in front of everyone, and even having you lead several lessons as he watches, a small smile on his lips.

Now, however, all the pressure is on you and you alone. But then again…not really. Not as Charlie Barber hunches over your binder as if his life depends on it as well. He’s helped you hammer out a syllabus and has moved on drafting outlines for assignments. You can’t help but note the way he keeps running his hands distractedly through his hair. It has made it more unruly than it was before. You laugh as his waves flop out of control after another swipe of his hand.

“What?” he asks you, glancing up quickly. You bite your lip and shake your head.

“Nothing,” you say, measuring your words. “It’s just…your hair looks so disheveled somebody might think this is your lesson plan you’re working on, not a shitty ex-student’s.”

“Hey, don’t you call my favorite ex-student shitty,” he reprimands with a grin.

It has been like this all night.

It has been like this the whole last semester, if you’re being honest.

In both of your defense, things were perfectly professional when he was your direct professor and you were in his class. It wasn’t until you were his TA – assisting him in the hustle and bustle of every day and functioning as more of an equal – that things became flirty.

It started with a cheeky comment here or there. You’re not sure who made the first one. But things have escalated over the last few months, and now the line between propriety and indecency is lightly blurred. Not that you have any plans to reign things in yourself.

“You alright, love?” Charlie asks as you settle back into your work, frowning down at your notes. “Love.” Not a typical endearment a professor gives to a student, but you certainly won’t be correcting him.

“I’m just worried that they won’t like me. That I’ll seem like little more than a fellow student and they won’t respect me enough to listen,” you admit, looking up at him in earnest. Charlie drops the paper he’s holding and comes around the desk to stand behind you. His hands drop on your shoulders, comforting.

“Did you have any trouble with that when you taught my students this past semester?”

“No, but…”

“But nothing. They loved you, and your own students will love you.” Charlie’s fingers dig into the muscles of your shoulders in a light massage. You feel your eyes threaten to roll back in your head but you school your reaction. You need to get a grip.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m the one with tenure. I’m never wrong,” Charlie jokes, and he gets the laugh out of you for which he was hoping.

“Yes,” you acquiesce through a giggle.

“I’m your professor, young lady. Yes what?” Charlie jokes, grabbing your chin so you’re looking over your shoulder at him.

“Yes, sir,” you respond playfully, knowing what he’s angling for.

What you’re not prepared for is his reaction to this statement. All at once his eyes go dark and his hands tighten unforgivingly. His jaw sets and his gaze drops to your lips and then up to your eyes and then back again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Almost hesitantly. Almost like he’s testing out the sound of it. Testing out your reaction.

You aren’t prepared for the small moan that issues unbidden from your lips. You don’t know what’s come over you. But you don’t know what’s come over Charlie, either, because suddenly he’s leaning forward and capturing your lips with his.

You don’t hesitate. You don’t shrink from his touch. Instead, you open your mouth for him almost immediately, allowing him to taste you. One of his hands goes to cradle the back of your neck while the other fumbles downward, grasping at whatever part of you it can find.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly when he finally pulls back for air. His dark eyes search yours. Watching. Asking.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” you mutter breathlessly, a smile tugging at your lips. Charlie’s answering smile is blinding and suddenly he’s pulling you from your chair and depositing you on his desk, stepping between your legs and claiming your lips once again.

“I haven’t known what to do with myself,” he breathes between kisses. “Wanting you has been absolute torture knowing I couldn’t have you.”

“But you can have me,” you gasp, pulling him to you by the collar of his shirt. “Take me. Please.”

“Mmm but it’s wrong,” he mumbles, and it sounds almost like a whine against your skin. “And you know that, baby girl.”

In spite of his words, he chooses now to grind his hardening length against the apex of your legs and you let out a groan.

“I don’t care,” you argue dumbly, working your hips to respond to his in kind.

“Oh god,” he stutters, thrusting back against you almost mindlessly. “You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you.”

“Why don’t you touch me and find out?” you challenge, eyes gleaming. Charlie gazes into your yes for a moment, searching for something.

Then suddenly he’s pulled you from the desk and whirled you around, pressing on your back so that you’re bent over the back of the chair that he has positioned in front of his desk. The chair that you’ve spent countless hours sat upon, listening to his wise advise. Now you bend over it, ass out, chest heaving, as you listen to his groan at the sight of your curves as he lifts the back of your skirt over your hips.

“You’ve spent years parading this ass in front of me. And I’ll bet you always knew what you were doing, too.” A sudden smack to your right cheek makes you gasp and pitch forward.

“I’m glad you were looking, but I wasn’t trying to torture you, I promise,” you toss over your shoulder at him, though you wriggle your hips, almost hoping for another slap. He delivers it to you immediately, this time groping your roundness after the impact.

“Ah you weren’t, but you were definitely trying to torture the freshmen.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing back with genuine confusion.

“Don’t play innocent. You know every single straight nineteen year old boy in that intermediate class had a hard on for you. When you presented Maggie’s scene from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? About five of them ran to the bathroom immediately to tug one out.”

You scoff at the exaggeration of his statement. But his hard bulge has started pressing against your ass and you’re easily distracted.

“Th-that’s not true – fuck – and you know it…” You try to formulate a more articulate response, but he’s reached out and begun to play with your right breast.

“Is it not, sweetheart?” he hums in your ear, his chest pressed your back as he pushes you further down over the chair. “Is it also not true that you’re very, veeeery wet for me right now?”

“Oh Charlie,” you breathe pathetically in response.

“Are you confirming my assumption here, love? Do you want me?” You hear a satisfying zip and then you feel flesh against your ass instead of the khaki material you had felt before. It makes you push back against him even more, feeling his cockhead push against your panty-clad seam.

“I want you, Charlie, I want you!” you practically cry out. There’s not time for shame. Not with Charlie’s hard body against you and feeling like every one of your fantasies combined.

“That’s a good girl,” he rumbles, pulling your panties down your legs and pressing his cock between them.

You gasp at the feeling of him entering you. This is all so sudden and yet still so long in coming. How long have you wanted Charlie Barber? The man who taught you everything you know. The man who haunted both your dreams and day dreams.

He fills you and suddenly you know nothing else. Nothing but the feeling of him hitting parts of you so deep you hadn’t realized they existed. Nothing but his breath on your neck and the slap of his balls against you with each thrust.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he moans, making you moan in kind. His finger finds your clit and your back arches even deeper. “You’ve always been my favorite for a reason.”

“Because – oh god! Because you knew you could get in my pants?” you ask with a shaky laugh. Charlie chuckles back and you feel it vibrate from his cock into your pussy, making you gasp.

“Because I knew you wanted me in your pants,” he responds, accelerating his swirling finger on your clit, making you cry out. “Because you paid attention to me like you were trying to imagine what it would be like to have me break you.”

“Oh fuck,” is all you can say in reply. He doubles his efforts, both in his thrusts and with his finger on your swollen nub, and you know you’re close. “Oh Charlie. Oh god.”

“Yes, baby?” he asks so casually as if he expects you to ask what the forecast is supposed to be for the day. The only thing that gives him away are the labored breaths he keeps panting in your ear.

“I….I’m gonna cum. Can I cum, Charlie?”

“You asked so nicely, sweetheart. Of course you may,” he says, thrusting harder. Deeper. You cry out again and he rubs at your clit like your life depends on it. “Cum for me, angel.”

And you do. And Charlie’s orgasm follows soon afterward. Leaving him spent and heavy, leaning down over your body, draped as you are over the chair.

~*~

Tiny taglist: @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @maybe-your-left @hopeamarsu @finn-ray-nal-beads @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady

#issa’s writing night #Charlie Barber x reader #Charlie Barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber smut #professor!Charlie Barber

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peppermint-toads · 2 years

Text

an: i want these shoes i’m projecting

cw: sugar daddy charlie barber, piv sex, reader wants shoes so she fucks charlie in order to get them duh

You sighed, “Seven hundred and forty dollars.”You said it aloud, letting the heaping price actualize in your brain.

You slumped back into your leather restoration hardware sofa that Charlie bought for you only months ago. A particularly adventurous night earned you that one.

Admittedly, your life with Charlie was plush. The brownstone you stayed in with him was quite impressive, you couldn’t deny it. But your insatiable need for more kept you kneeling at Charlie’s feet.

You heard your front door click open and then shut. Charlie was home from the theatre.

Action.

You slumped even deeper into the sofa and put on your best pout. You forced your eyes to gloss over, a perk of being around a theatre director, you supposed.

Charlie stepped into the living room, spotting you on the couch. He petted your hair and you sighed. You rolled your head to face him, putting on a childish frown as you wallowed.

Charlie’s face fell flat. He knew that look.

“Hi, Charlieee.” you drawled.

He sat by your feet, legs spread wide as he relaxed into the cushions.

“What could you possibly want?”

His eyes were closed and pinched as if he had a headache. He sounded tired, and for a short moment, you felt bad. You even considered leaving him alone, saving the bribery for tomorrow. But soon his finger was tracing shapes on the smooth skin of your calf. A playful smirk grew on your face.

“A kiss from my favorite old man.” You sat up, tucking your feet under your thighs and leaning back on your haunches. You faced him now, and you could see the slight bulge forming in his navy slacks.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted something, too.”

He smiled, eyes still closed. You leaned over, pressing a kiss onto his dimple and the side of his mouth.

“That all you needed, sweetheart?”

You paused for a moment, calculating your next move. “I think I’m in need of a new pair of shoes.”

“And I’m in need,” he kissed your throat. “Of a beautiful girl sitting on my cock.”

“So, we have a deal, Mr. Barber?”

You stuck out your hand for him to shake. He instead pulled you by the hand onto his lap, immediately dragging you over his aching groin.

You nearly lost your balance, but quickly, Charlie’s hand was bracing your back, and your nails were digging into his shoulders through his button down.

He wasted no time, quickly fumbling with his belt and zipper and pulling out his leaking cock. Your panties were shoved to the side under your dress, and he was shoving himself into your cunt.

You whimpered as his cockhead easily prodded at your cervix. His hands enveloped your hips as he pulled you forward and then up and then down again, over and over.

Your clit dragged against his stomach and his pretty happy trail, and you sighed out contentedly, orgasm quickly coming and leaving you like jelly in his arms.

You admired him as his chest flushed and his neck tensed with the repeated effort of lifting you.

“Look so perfect sitting on my cock,” he grunted, hands steadily kneading the fat of your ass.

He’d taken you to beautiful places. Paris, Mallorca, Lombardy. Still, his preferred view was you sitting on his lap with feverish skin and parted lips.

It didn’t take much more for his hips to falter and for him to still. He leaned forward to rest his head on your chest, and spilled inside of you with a broken groan.

His messy head fell back against the couch again. You scratched your nails through his slightly damp tresses and he purred.

“Which ones?” He grumbled.

“Hmm?” Your brows pinched in confusion, as through your foggy, blissful state of mind you completely forgot what got you there in the first place.

You would’ve been satisfied with this outcome, sated and sleepy and with no new shoes, but you’d come so far.

“Maison Margiela tabi ballerina heels, off-white.” You smiled sleepily.

“You’re giving me greys.”

You pretended to inspect his head. “Hm, you’re right. There’s one right—” you yanked out one perfectly dark strand “—here.”

The next day he came home with an unmistakable, pristine white box with a deep red ribbon tied around it.

#charlie barber smut #charlie barber fluff #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber fanfiction #sugar daddy charlie barber #adcu fanfiction #adcu writer

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carloswilliamcarlos · 2 years

Text

professor!charlie haunts my dreams like he really haunts my dreams…

holding eye contact a little too long on the first day of class

staying after lectures to talk a little too long about your assignments

the tension in the air when you meet alone in his office for the first time

knowing he’s not allowed to close the door with you alone and watching him do it anyway

absolutely railing each other on his desk

getting dirty notes from him hidden in the homework he hands back

wearing one of his ties to class and wearing nothing but that tie in his office later

him suddenly acting cold to you in public when he’s afraid you’re being too obvious… making you crave his affection that much more

textbooks and rulers leaving red marks on your ass that make you shift in your seat the next day

the smell of leather, mahogany, and parchment in the air when you visit his home for the first time

curling up on his lap in a big antique armchair as he reads you to sleep in that navy sweater that feels like home

the disapproving looks from the other professors when he brings you to a faculty soiree “”””because you’re just really interested in academia”””””

feeling his fingers brush yours as he passes your desk, strolling the aisles and reading aloud to the class

spreading your legs just wide enough that he can catch a glimpse of whatever lacy thing he asked you to wear for him that day

the genuinely proud smile he gives you when you present your final dissertation

and the way you can’t get a single word out when he asks you to read it again with his face between your legs later that night

#professor charlieeeeeeeeeee #WHY ARENT YOU REAL #charlie barber smut

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rynwritesstuff · 9 months

Text

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.”

#rynwritesstuff #charlie barber #charlie barber x you #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber fic #charlie barber smut #charlie barber marriage story #marriage story fanfiction #marriage story fic #marriage story #adam driver smut #adam driver

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strawberry-whorecake · 7 months

Text

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.

#adcu #adam driver #adcu x reader #adcu smut #smut #charlie barber x you #charlie barber smut #charlie barber x reader #marriage story #whorecake fics

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year

Text

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.

#charlie barber #charlie barber smut #charlie barber x reader #armitage hux #nicole barber #Marriage Story #cheating #smut #kitchen smut #we cheating

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jynzandtonic · 5 months

Note

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!

#GO OFF Y'ALL!#adam driver #ADCU #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #adam sackler x reader #clyde logan x reader #charlie barber x reader #kylo ren x reader #flip zimmerman x reader

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shesjustanothergeek · 8 months

Text

The Most Tragic of Mistakes

|Charlie Barber x Fem!Reader Short Story|

Chapter One

Masterlist of Series

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.