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reveluving · 1 year

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red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

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

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

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

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✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

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

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

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

Keyword: nearly.

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

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

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

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

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

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

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

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

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

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

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

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

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

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

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

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strawberry-whorecake · 9 months

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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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rachoxpotato · 1 year

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

Henry's been asleep since before Charlie got home.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s right.

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

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

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

You choose seven wooden blocks.

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

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

Such a dad.

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

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

“Fine. Boring.”

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

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

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

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

Well, to help out Mr. Barber.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you play ‘WIDE.’

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

He inhales sharply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You arch an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mister Barber,” you whimper.

“Is this okay, Princess?” he asks.

You nod. “More.”

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

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

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

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

You nod slowly.

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sweetheart, you’re—“

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

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

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

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

“Daddy!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, oh my god, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charlie growls before whisking you away to his bed.

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

#adcu #Adam driver #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #rachwrites

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jynzandtonic · 5 months

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

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

(cw: oral sex)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jyn z thots #jynzandtonic writes #charlie barber #charlie barber fanfiction #charlie barber fanfic #charlie barber smut #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber/reader #charlie barber/you

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sacklerscumrag · 1 year

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

Charlie Barber x Reader

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

Word Count: 410

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

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

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

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

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

#charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #adam driver #marriage story

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shesjustanothergeek · 8 months

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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

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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

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

@vividlittlevox

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roanniom · 2 years

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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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rynwritesstuff · 9 months

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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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ladyinwriting18 · 2 years

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Burden Me (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Summary: Being in a long distance relationship isn't easy. Especially late at night when you've slipped into a depressive episode. Luckily your boyfriend Charlie knows just what to say to make it better.

Words: 1,874

Warnings: Use of term Daddy, Depressive episode/anxiety attack, Negative self talk, Other than that nothing but fluff & comfort.

It’s late when you call. You know this and it worsens your guilt, but you’ve run out of options.

You went through all the self-soothing steps.

Took deep breaths.

Counted to ten.

Named five things you can see, four you can hear, three you can touch, two you can smell, and one you can taste.

However, in moments like this, nothing is as helpful as hearing the voice of someone who makes you feel loved.

“H-Hello? Sweetheart is that you?”

Charlie’s voice is thick and groggy from sleep.

You’ve woken him.

Stupid bitch.

You choke on a sob, unable to hold it in.

Charlie is on high alert now. You can hear it from the way his breathing changes and the sound of him grunting to sit up. He says your name–sternly but not unkind.

It’s his worried ‘Dad voice’.

You’ve heard him use it countless times when talking to Henry.

He repeats himself, snapping your attention back to the present.

“Are you safe right now?”

You nod your head with a whimper, forgetting you’re on the phone.

“I can’t see whether or not you’re nodding your head. Can you give me a verbal answer?”

You open your mouth and take a shuddering breath as fresh tears roll down your face. “I’m safe.”

Charlie lets out a sigh of relief. In your mind you can picture his shoulders relaxing on the exhale.

“Good.”

You can practically feel the tension leave his body.

“And good girl for answering.”

You can only manage to sniffle in acknowledgement.

“What’s going on over there? Why isn’t my little rabbit sleeping? Did you have a bad dream?”

If only it was just a nightmare.

You shake your head and cry into the phone.

Your tears pool against the screen of your cell phone. You can feel the dampness on your cheek.

Some part of your brain scolds you for being weak. While another reminds you that he still can’t see you.

“Sweetheart? Hey, come on now. Focus on me. Only me, okay?”

“N-Not a nightmare.” You force out past your tears.

“Shhh, that’s alright. Then what's making my girl upset?”

His voice is so soothing–so loving.

You want to slip it on like a warm pair of pajamas that are fresh from the dryer.

He’s waiting for an answer. You know he is. It feels awful leaving him waiting after you so rudely woke him.

Why did he even bother keeping you around when you were such a—

“Burden. I’m a burden.”

“What?” He genuinely sounds shocked, as if you had said something outlandish and not something your brain is telling you is a fact.

“Sweetheart, why would you say a thing like that?”

“It’s the truth!” You cry but instantly feel shame for being so loud in the middle of the night.

“It’s not.”

The stern voice is back.

You hang your head and start to wish you hadn’t reached out. At least then he wouldn’t be so bothered by you. You don’t know what else to say. There are too many negative thoughts swirling around in your head.

They all point out different things.

Flaws.

Times when you’ve made mistakes.

Past hurts.

All together they muddle to a single residual thought….

You.

Are.

Burden.

So much so that you don’t deserve the space you’re currently taking up. Your very existence is one that needs forgiveness. You want to disappear just to spare the people in your life from having to deal with you.

“Are you safe?”

He re-asks the same question, but now it has a different meaning.

You open your mouth and start to say ‘yes’, but Charlie cuts you off.

“Yes but are your thoughts safe?”

God damnit.

“Less so.” You mumble, praying he understands because you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“That’s alright. Lets try and wipe some of those nasty thoughts away, okay?”

His words soften you like butter.

What had you done to deserve this man?

You’re certain you don’t and it’s only a matter of time until he realizes that.

No.

We’re getting rid of the nasty thoughts, not feeding them.

You make a small sound in agreement.

“Good girl. First, where are you right now?”

You rub at your cheeks with the palm of your hand. The skin feels dry from the tear tracks.

“Sitting up in bed.”

“Mmh, can you lay down for me?”

You move to do as he asks. The moment your back rests against the mattress, all the tension in your spine dissolves. You let out a sigh, your eyes fluttering closed at the sheer release.

“That’s it. Doesn’t that feel a little better?” He coos warmly.

I can almost feel his breath against the shell of my ear.

Almost, but not enough.

“I wish you were here.”

It's the first full sentence you’re capable of uttering since the start of the phone call.

“I wish I was too.” The remorse oozes from him but Charlie is quick to shake it off. “But we’ll be together tomorrow. It’s only a few more hours and a short plane ride until you’re back in my arms.”

It's hard to argue but in your current state of mind you manage to find a way.

“Yeah, as long as nothing goes wrong.” You grumble low but Charlie still hears.

“Nothing is going to go wrong. Do you want to know why nothing is going to go wrong?”

Might as well take the bait.

“Why?”

“Because Daddy says so.”

Your face feels hot for a very different reason than the fact you had just been crying.

“You….You’re not playing fair.”

He has the audacity to chuckle. “You’re right. I’m not, but it did get you to stop crying.”

Oh.

He's right.

But you still don’t know what to say.

Luckily Charlie continues.

“Do you think you can tell me what started all this? Did something trigger you?”

You inhale deeply, wanting to stay as calm as possible. You begin by telling him about the hardships of the day, the things that had gone wrong to steadily build up the anxiety inside of you, and how that spiraled into the negative mind space that you’re currently in.

You’re proud of yourself for only getting choked up once or twice during your explanation.

But when you end your story by apologizing, the tears restart back up again.

“I’m sorry I called so late. I’m sorry I’m bothering you. You should be sleeping but instead you’re listening to me be sad! I’m sorry I’m so needy and that I need a lot of reassurance. I-I….”

You’re openly sobbing now.

“I don’t deserve you. I-I don’t deserve anyone. I’m just a burden. My wants, my needs, my feelings they’re….they’re all too much! I’m too much.”

You can hear Charlie shouting your name over your tears. He attempts to shush and soothe while regaining your attention, but your sobs increase to the point that they wrack your body.

“I’m sorry, Charlie! I’m so sorry!”

“ENOUGH!”

The rest of your words die within your throat. Charlie only yelled when necessary or when overcome with anger. Which means he rarely shouted at you.

You whimper out his name, ready to beg for forgiveness for pushing too far. You don’t get the chance before he continues.

“Burden me. Do you understand? If you truly think you’re a burden then I want you to burden me, lean on me, come to me for help. I love you. I don’t want you to face anything alone. Whether it’s good things or bad.”

“But–”

“No buts, little rabbit.” His tone is softer now—sounding more playful when using your pet name. “Would you want me to face my problems alone?”

“No….”

“Exactly, so no more apologizing for feeling sad or for needing to call. I’m here. I would rather you wake me up ten times a night than you cry alone.”

He’s almost too good to be true but it’s still hard for you to believe you deserve it.

“I….I just feel so guilty.”

“For what? Being human and needing help?”

He got you there.

You were only human but….shouldn’t you take accountability for your emotions? Shouldn’t you be able to solve your own problems?

“Sweetheart, I can hear you overthinking again.” He teases.

His smugness makes you want to punch him in the face. But instead, you sigh. You’re too emotionally drained to fight back or be a brat.

“It’s hard to not overthink.”

Charlie hums sympathetically. “I know little rabbit. I know. But try and listen to Daddy right now and not your brain.”

He pauses, giving you a moment to interject if you needed to. When you don’t, he continues.

“I know you tend to beat yourself up when you need to reach out to others for help. You’re an independent individual but you needing comfort or needing to talk things out doesn’t invalidate that. You are still just as self-efficient even when you need support. Do you want to know why?”

“Because Daddy says so?”

Your cheeky comment has him laughing. One of his true laughs that brings out the crinkles around the corners of his eyes. The sound alone has you smiling. If he had said nothing else on this phone call, his laughter would still be enough to clear away the dark clouds surrounding you.

“No, my silly girl. Because knowing you need help and being brave enough to ask for it is being self-efficient.”

You want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly.

You guess you’ll start by trying.

“I’ll try my best to start believing that.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” He praises softly.

You find yourself blinking back tears. “You’re too good to me.”

He immediately shushes you, “None of that, I give what I get. From the moment we met you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I plan to continue doing the same.”

You’re overcome with emotions, but no longer the dark sticky ones that cling to you like sludge. These are brighter emotions—hopeful and healing.

“I love you, Charlie Barber.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

You breathe out, a calmness blanketing you like freshly fallen snow. It’s comfortably quiet between the two of you. An accomplishment that you’ve only achieved in this relationship with Charlie. Never before had you felt comfortable sitting in silence with any other partner.

“How many more hours?” Even you are shocked by the own sleepiness in your voice.

“Don’t worry about the number of hours. Just come home. Nothing else matters. Your only focus is getting here so I can come meet you at the airport gate and kiss you until you’re giggling for me to stop.”

You do in fact giggle, giddy off the thought of his kisses.

“I want so many kisses, Daddy.”

“You’ll have them all and then some, sweetheart.”

You giggle again but it turns into a yawn. Your sorrow from earlier fading faster and faster as exhaustion seeps in.

“Tell me all the things we’ll do once I get to New York?”

Charlie chuckles but agrees.

“Alright, but after that my little rabbit is going to get some rest.”

You do just that, and let his deep baritone words lull you to sleep.

#charlie barber #adcu community #lady in writing #charlie barber x you #charlie barber fluff #adcu fanfiction #marriage story #adcu #adam driver

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strawberry-whorecake · 6 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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