Adam Driver Character Imagines

~Babysitter-Charlie Barber-NSFW~

Smut warnings: Daddy kink

Charlie Barber makes a run for the kitchen at the sound of the oven timer going off a second time. He had been so caught up with his son proudly displaying his newly built Lego set, that he had completely forgotten about the lasagna. The oven door creaks softly as he opens it, reaching inside with two kitchen towels. Charlie ignores the heat burning through the fabric and quickly sets the dish down on a wood cutting board. Last time he had made the mistake of grabbing it instead of carrying it over to the table with something to balance it on.

"Dad!" Henry's voice causes him to wince. "What about my homework?"

"Just a minute!" He shouts back as he frantically starts to toss the salad over in the glass bowl. Charlie flinches as his phone begins to ring, the screen lighting up with a familiar number. "Shit!" Charlie scoops it up and raises the phone to his ear. "Hello? Is this the scout I was talking to about our next play?"

Henry charges into the room as Charlie's brow furrows, trying to hear over the sound of the oven timer that he had forgotten to silence and his son's screams as he charges around the room with a Lego ship in his hand.

"Look at this, Dad!" Henry exclaims.

Charlie tries his best to ignore him. "Yes, that's the one. It's the theater at UCLA but we'll be moving production back to Broadway once we get the chance."

"Dad!" Henry sends the ship zooming around the little kitchen.

"Excuse me for a moment," Charlie lowers the phone, giving his son a stern look. "Not now, Henry. Do your homework."

"But I don't know how!" He says flatly as he climbs onto the chair.

"Get down from there right-" he raises the phone once more "-sorry about that. Where were we?"

Charlie is interrupted once more by the sound of Henry crying out and toppling to the ground as the chair tips. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'll call you back."

That had been one of the many fiascos that had pushed Charlie to search for a babysitter. Ever since his divorce with Nicole and the split-custody situation, his plate just seemed to be piling up. Originally, he thought he could handle Henry. Even when he was married, he seemed to be doing most of the actual parenting and house chores. Now that things were picking up again at work, Charlie was in desperate need of help.

Over the past few weeks, he had been scouring the area and speaking with one babysitter after another. His most memorable was a 50-year-old woman who still taught children by spanking them and in second place came a fifteen-year-old girl who had lied about her age in hopes of getting a job. Then your profile appeared and it was like a breath of fresh air. He only hoped that the description actually matched the person this time around.

You were coming today for a formal interview and so he could see how you handled Henry. Charlie was oddly nervous. It felt as though you were going to be his last hope.

He wipes his hands on a dish rag and slings it over his shoulder as he sets Henry's lunch on the table. His attention is redirected by the sound of the doorbell. Charlie glances down at his watch; right on time. So far, so good. He strides over to the door and yanks on it, knowing that it could be troublesome. His heart nearly stops at the sight of you on the other side.

You were only four or five years younger than him apparently. You were shivering beneath your oversized rain coat, wet hair plastered to your face. Charlie glances over your shoulder. He hadn't even noticed that it was raining.