Work Text:
UCLA
Writing Screenplays : Creative Writing 350
"That's all for today. Don't forget, your revised scripts are due next Monday by midnight. I'm looking for those character developments we talked about—really dig deep into the emotional journeys. Make sure to upload them to the course portal."
Charlie picks up his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and adds, "I'll have your grades for the latest assignments to you by Wednesday. Please, take the feedback to heart. It’s all about refining and understanding the arc of your stories. Have a good weekend."
Charlie's stoic glare scans the podium to make sure he’s not missing anything.
You are quick to pack up your things, eager to start preparing for your sorority’s party that night, but as luck would have it, Professor Barber had other plans. Ones that involved Henry staying at Nicole’s tonight and you, in his sheets.
It started when you presented him with brilliant work. He had you present your play at a faculty-sponsored research and creativity event where you got funding to put on the play.
You did. Charlie mentored you throughout it all, and at the end of opening night, you went home with him, not out with the cast.
In all honesty, the both of you had been desperate for one another since the beginning of your time as his student, but he felt like a pervert… he didn’t pursue you until you were practically begging for his cock, backstage, post-standing ovation.
– –
“I can’t thank you enough… for this opportunity, for all of this…”
“You deserve it sweetheart…” his voice was like silk, barely a whisper.
As Charlie spoke, the intimate buzz of the theater’s backstage faded into a muted backdrop. His words lingered in the charged air between you, a testament to the journey both emotional and professional, that you had undertaken together. His eyes, usually so commanding and assertive when framing a scene or guiding an actor, now reflected a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before.
He took a cautious step closer, his presence overwhelming yet strangely comforting. The echo of applause still hummed beyond the thick curtains, celebrating the success that was as much yours as his.
He’d fucked you against the sticky dressing room table, old wood creaking.
“Such a good fucking girl, my perfect doll… my muse. My dream girl-”
– –
“Honey...” Charlie says, standing before you. You straighten, grabbing your things. “Profe-”
“I said your name three times… why so distracted?”
“No reason in particular,” you give a bashful smile, securing your bag over your shoulder.
Charlie’s angular face gazes down at your softer one, a fond smile on his lips. “I know you have that uhh, event tonight, but I want to steal you away for a couple of hours… would you let me do that honey?”
You nervously gaze around, his words making your stomach flutter urgently. “I… um… yeah I just need to help set up and then… yeah-”
“What time can I come get you? Discreetly of course.” He asks lowly. There’s a knowing smirk on his face, he’s done this a few times already. Pull up to the grocery store just two streets over from greek-row, park, and wait.
“Eight, if that works.”
“Uhhh Professor Barber?” Some random air-head bro-dude materializes next to the two of you. “Can I ask you about my grade?”
Charlie turns and his stoic glare returns, “Yeah, sure.”. Charlie gives you an apologetic look before saying, “Feel free to email me if you have any questions…”
– –
By 7:45 p.m., your sorority house’s decorations are up, and the girls and you are admiring your hard work. Tonight is a date party, which you’re not keen on, but you should be back in time for the 10:30 event.
Sienna eyes you as you check yourself in the hallway’s tall mirror. She’s been your friend since the start of your college career. You have the unique ability to read each other perfectly, something the two of you had not found with other friends.
“Are you leaving?” She questions with a knowing smirk.
“I’m going to see a friend-”
“Right… be safe. What’s the guy’s name…”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You quip as you run your fingers through your setting curls. Your little, light blue, cocktail dress has a 50/50 chance of getting ruined before the party even begins.
“Well… just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…” Sienna adds.
“Trust me… I always do things you wouldn’t.”
– –
When you make it to Professor Barber’s Toyota Corolla, you’re breathing a bit more rapidly, nerves and time working against you.
You open the door gently before slipping in, your head isn’t turned in his direction as you yank the door closed, but before you can turn, his able, long fingers are wrapped around your throat, pulling your head over the center console, allowing a closeness so his lips set upon yours quickly.
An involuntary moan leaves you as he steals your breath, greedily ruining your lip gloss with his tough lips.
Without letting go of your throat he pulls away, his dark hair falling over his brow. His eyes are hungry, and the few street lights outside are only illuminating the back of him… blue dashboard lights lighting his angular face from below.
“...’d you eat any dinner sweetheart?”
You gulp, you weren’t quite expecting that question. You shake your head.
“Good… I’ll take you to mine and feed you… I’ll make us some pasta… how about Fettucini Alfredo?”
“I’d love that.”
His able hands move to the steering wheel.
You quickly get from point A to point B, it’s possible you dreamt the whole way there, admiring his profile. You felt the need to snap out of it, show a little shame for oggling.
He is quick to exit the car in the driveway of his private home, it’s not technically LA territory. It’s big and spacious, you’d been inside before. It’s made for a family. He has one, but no wife. A title he’d very much like a special someone to fill… sometime in the future. But for now, this was his and Henry’s spot one week, yours and his the other. Much like the terrain in the rest of this part of the West Coast you’re in, the trees are tall and abundant, allowing for Professor Barber’s home to be truly quiet, covered, and best of all: peaceful. A stark difference from your Sorority’s home.
Your door opens, he reaches in to offer you a hand. After all, you’re in your mixer heels and dress. You gratefully take it, your eyes never leaving his.
“Ever the chivalrous man.” You quip, tilting your pretty head.
“Well…” he scoffs, guiding you by your lower back to the front door of his home. “I need to make up for all of the… less than gentlemanly things I plan to do…” he opens the door gently, “... tonight.” he sports a smug grin.
—-
After filling your belly one way he opts to do so in another.
After red wine, Alfredo, and the cookies you baked a week or so ago, you couldn’t be fuller.
*He was keen on proving you wrong on that.*
“You’re so pretty…” he says, standing from his position at the other end of the table. He had wanted you to sit closer, but you insisted against it, as no actual eating would’ve gotten done.
You chuckle gently, tucking a coiled strand of hair behind your ear.
“Thank you… want me to do the dishes-”
“Fuck the dishes- and no… my answer is always no…” He approaches and pushes your hand holding a plate down to the dark-stained wooden dinner table. His hand, still on your wrist guides the inside of your wrist to his lips. He kisses… then he moves down your forearm. “You drive me insane in class, you know that? Do you know how many times I’ve had to stay sitting behind the desk so I don’t flash my hard-on at the other students…?”
You giggle nervously, eyes jolting up at his much more relaxed, sultry ones. “I noticed that you were pretty sedentary for a few classes.” You quip with a smirk. Proud of what little control you felt you finally had over this dynamic. At the end of the day, however, you knew the truth, you both did. You could ask anything of him and he would stop his world to do it, internally, he knew he prioritized his love for you over his position as a professor. He’d spent his life, so far, with the wrong person, he wouldn’t give up the right one just for money… no. Little did you know at first, that you were undeniably and absolutely his. You would find out soon enough.
He’s glaring down at you now, not appreciating your teasing. He sighs, “What am I gonna do with you..? Should I give you the luxury of choosing where I fuck you?”
You nod fervently, about to ask if you could carefully take off your party dress before it’s ruined too. He shakes his head, dark eyes narrowing.
“I’ll give you a five-second head start… where I find you is where I fuck you… and pray for that little fucking dress.”
Shit. You think, eyes widening. You’re gone in an instant.
“5,” he mutters, eyes following your dashing form.
You’re unzipping the back of your dress poorly as you get from the kitchen to the living room, running.
“4,” he absentmindedly unbuttons the top of his button-down.
You’re out of the living room now. ‘Think, think think…’ Down the hall is his office, the stairs are in sight. Perhaps you could make it to the bedroom.
“3.”
You think as you wrangle your dress off, throwing it far from your place at the bottom of the stairs. And maybe Charlie isn’t being fair, but at “2,” he’s walking in slow but long strides in your direction.
You ascend the stairs as quickly as you can.
“1,” His voice is close, it shouldn’t be so easy to hear-
You squeal as he grabs the inside of your thigh from his lower position on the steps. “Cheater!”
He chuckles darkly, gripping now your bare waist and pressing against your curled hair, effectively bending you over. Your hands meet the dark wood of the top floor.
He changes his mind, moving you over and onto your back. He kneels carefully on the carpeted steps, one leg positioned for stability and the other for reach. Your breath hitches as you watch him tug at the sides of your mesh panties. He smirks up at you which indicates a teasing desire.
“Don’t slip.”
“I won’t honey… comfortable?”
“No.”
“You’ll live.”
Your underwear is discarded to the side and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, delving in without warning. His tongue meets your core and like every other time, the feeling is surprising. Warmth in your stomach and face, blush meeting every soft part of your body. You moan out, your noises please him always. He groans, vibrations running from your clit down.
“Oh my god,”
“God won’t help you....”
“Fuck- Charlie-”
He chuckles, another set of reverberations hit you and you sit up slightly, the wood of the upstairs hitting your back. You writhe under him. Guys before him had never made you cum from head. You try not to think of Charlie as experienced, jealousy pooling. Perhaps… wise. He’s much more senior to you anyway.
“... Up,” he says finally, untangling from you and standing, gripping your arm to help you stand. He turns you to finish up the stairs and toward his bedroom, he pats you on the ass, but he’s not content with the force he used. He slaps it, hard. You yelp, stumbling in the direction of his bedroom.
“Charlie.” You glare. He smirks, towering over you from behind.
You stride to his bed and jump on, crawling to the far end, teasing him by putting distance between.
“Trying to get away, hm?”
“No.” you smile.
“I still need to taste you… you’ll let me do that, right honey?”
You nod as you lean back. With tender hands he grips your ankles and drags you to the edge, descending again onto your pussy with an eager tongue, kneeling before you like a prayer.
For what feels like a perfect forever, hands tangled in his dark hair, his painful grip on your under thighs, you feel taunted and prodded for pleasure. Eventually, he allows you to release, dark eyes staring up from his position as he enjoys the sight of you coming.
He stands over you, a single hand unbuckling his belt, the other keeping one of your legs prodded open.
You sleepily gaze up at him as he makes quick work of undoing his pants. His dick is fully hard, directing itself straight towards your pussy as he pulls down his boxers.
“You’re such a good girl… stay awake for me hm? I wanna see you cum again.”
You nod, settling yourself on your elbows, watching his dick disappear into you, “oh ffffuck.” you groan at the feeling of him filling you.
“Shit,” Charlie sinks in as much as he can, not a sliver of his cock in sight. He settles there for a moment, smiling in a daze of lust. “You stay so tight for me, how do you do it honey? My perfect little student…”
You babble a nearly incoherent ‘I dunno’. He starts to move, bringing some relief. He juts your ass up, gripping under you to lift, his knees moving to settle on the bed. He’s impossibly deep now, it hurts even. You hold out, but you can’t keep it up.
“Ow- Charlie…”
He stops, withdrawing halfway. “Sorry baby…”
You chuckle lightly. “It's alright, I just haven’t had you since…”
“Last weekend…” he glares, “I told you to come to my office hours… and you didn’t. Could've prevented this.” He smirks. “Naughty girl.” He sinks back in, but not so harshly. It feels so good. You arch against the bed, your hair tangling beneath you. So much for the prep you put in for tonight’s event.
He fucks you hungrily but with a tender touch. How he walks that line is beyond you. You remind yourself of his experience- no… wisdom. His movements are made in an effort to please you, because on his end just being in you does it for him. Just your presence makes him hard. You let go, letting him lead. Trusting him. But when he starts leaving marks on your neck you grimace.
“Party tonight-” You rush to say, wanting him to understand.
“Don’t give a fuck.” He mutters against your neck. “It’s a date party, right? Who’s your date-” he asks, assuming you didn’t invite one.
“Jonah Pearson.”
He stops immediately, glaring down at you. Not in a fun way though. You blush. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten. It’s not like that.”
Charlie doesn’t seem so convinced. He gulps. “Is that so?”
“You met him! At my read-through project presentation-”
“Shut it.” He grumbles, but he knows you’re right. He fully met the kid. He admires your body as he pretends to contemplate.
“Charlie…” You huff, giving him puppy dog eyes, needing him to move again. “Please.”
He leans up, sitting on his knees still. He takes his last article of clothing off, suddenly too hot, his button down. He tosses it to the side. An arrogant version of himself is present and upright, he fucks you again... except his pace is increased, almost angry.
“Oh fuck-” You moan out.
“Need to make sure…” he thrusts hard, “your little friends know you’re fucking taken, that you’re mine.” He continues to move. You wince but enjoy this ‘him’ so much you allow yourself to sink into the feeling. The pleasure is building quickly. He’s jealous… how cute. “You won’t be able to walk after this… you’ll be fff-fucking marked up… they’ll see how much of a slut student you are.”
You grin devilishly, head thrown back. You’re almost there and so is he. He looks like a Greek statue above. His large dick fills you to the brim. Just as he had promised earlier, after rocking into you a bit longer, he fills you the other way he had wanted to.
You cry out when you follow suit just a moment after, writhing beneath his touch. He doesn’t stop until he has completely emptied himself inside of you. You grin, he leans back to get a good look at you. He kisses you, deeply, meaningfully. Your hands tangle in his hair. You smirk when he pulls away, placing a foot on the floor, his knee popping.
“Not a word.” He groans. You are on the brink of a fit of laughter but real it in.
You tilt your head, smiling up at him. He’s gorgeous with his hair over his brow, skin glowing.
“I want you to stay,”
“I will, but my friends are gonna kill me.”
“You helped set up, they won’t be angry,”
“They’ll ask questions… they’ll want to know who I’m spending all this time with.”
“Then… maybe you should never go back; stay here with me forever.”
“Mmmm.” I begin as he lays on top of me, effectively trapping me. “Maybe I will.”