Archive Of MY Own

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𝟙𝟡 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕠𝕝𝕕 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔼𝕣𝕚𝕜 𝕨𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕦𝕡 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕞𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕟𝕠 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖. 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕟𝕠 𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕒 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕖, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕦𝕟 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣. 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕤: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕘𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕤𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥.

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─✰ Rating: Mature ─✰ Contains: Hurt/ Comfort, Amnesia, Mutual Pinning, Malfunctioning Powers, Codependency, Re-Falling in Love ─✰ Content warnings for mild sadism, references to abuse and genocide, Non-Sexual Nudity, and Period Typical Homophobia ─✰ Word Count: 2.5K

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Erik knew something was wrong as soon as started to regain consciousness. For one, he was warm. The plush bedding that surrounded him felt like a cloud cradling his aching muscles. He hadn't been given soft, clean sheets like this in ages. The ceiling above him was cracked and mildly water damaged with a yellowing overhead light. Erik squinted and sat up to avoid it shining into his eyes. He rubbed absently at a bruise under his rib as he tried to take in more of his surroundings. Shabby was the word that came to mind. A word Dr. Schmidt used when he entered a home that was adequate for living but by no means lavish. Erik never understood the word. In comparison to the concert box he called a bedroom, shabby was to die for. This room had carpet. It was gray with odd discoloration here and there but he bet it felt better on cold feet than tile. The metal that held the door together was rusty and loose. He tightened them just to be safe. There were suitcases neatly set upon a lumpy couch. A closed door off to the side was likely a bathroom by the feel of the pipes. Sun poured in from the thin fabric acting as curtains for a window. Birds chirped from outside. Erik rubbed his eyes with his hands. Something was definitely wrong.

The sheets next to him rustled and groaned when he tried to stand up. Erik froze in place until it stopped. Was he drugged, he thought to himself. How could he have not noticed another body in the bed with him? Erik cautiously pulled back the sheets to reveal a boy about his age drooling into a pillow. The boy was beautiful to Erik. It felt shameful to even think it but the longer he looked, the more the thought solidified itself in his mind. The boy had rich, brown hair that fell in waves onto his pillow. His dark eyelashes cast a shadow on his round, rosy checks and his impossibly red lips hung slightly opened as he breathed. The boy's features felt other worldly. Erik was so used to seeing the gaunt, gray faces of those that surrounded him that he almost forgot people could glow like this. How could he have forgotten bringing someone such as this to bed? How could he have snuck the interaction past Schmidt long enough to make it happen? This boy had to belong to someone greater, far greater than Erik would be allowed to meet. Schmidt forbade him to speak with his wealthier clients. The people he usually bed with were just as lowly as him and nowhere near as compelling.

The boy next to him shifted again and groaned in a way that made his stomach feel tight. Men were even more forbidden than the rich. Schmidt didn't need to teach Erik that. He remembered the fear in the eyes of the men who wore the pink triangle. He knew what they had done to earn it. "Sins of the Flesh" is what his mother called it. "Disgusting" is what everyone else did. Erik found hypocrisy in it. He's seen men of status with their male 'secretaries". He knows there's a reason Janos is kept cleaner than everyone else, just the same as Emma. Though it didn't matter much what he thought. Erik knew that rules apply solely to those at the bottom and given he is as low as he could get, he knew to keep his affinity to himself. No need to bring more trouble into his life when women were just as satisfying.

Erik watched as the boy squeezed his eyes a few times before finally opening them. Even clouded with sleep, he has the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. They were like the paintings of the ocean he'd seen in Schmidt's entertainment room. Maybe even brighter. The boy blinked himself awake and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. Erik just sat still and waited for the boy to react. Perhaps he knew more than Erik did?

"Who are you?" The boy grumbled in a voice thick with sleep and a distinctive British accent.

Perhaps not.

"I should ask you the same question." Erik responded in his best English.

"I'm called Charles. Charles Xavier." Charles sat up himself and looked around the room the same as Erik just did.

Erik pondered whether he'd met any Xaviers. He hadn't.

"Where the hell are we?" Charles whined while rubbing at his temple. "And where the hell are your clothes?"

Charles squinted skeptically at the german and in that moment Erik registered that he was in only his boxers. He also noticed that Charles was in a similar state of undress with a nightshirt that was barely buttoned and hanging over his freckled shoulders.

"I am not sure. I woke up here the same as you."

Charles scrutinized Erik even more so.

"You're not the ambassador's son, are you?"

"Huh?" Erik wasn't sure where the other had got that idea. "No, I'm…Erik"

Charles stared at him in the eyes like he was picking apart his answer. Something must have click for him because the other suddenly relaxed and leaned back on his palms.

"Right. Well, cheers, I suppose." Charles reached a hand out and Erik took it cautiously. A hand shake. How odd.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Charles continued once they broke contact.

Erik was sure to sugarcoat it for the boy in front of him. "I was sleeping off my workout."

"I was hiding from my parents' party. They always have far too many people over at once."

"I was definitely not attending any party."

Charles hummed and nodded. "May I ask where you are from? I can't quite place your accent."

"Germany. Nuremberg originally but we…had to move." Erik figured that was a nice enough way to put it.

"Really? That's a hell of a move. New York is across the world from where you're from; How did you make it here?"

"Where?"

"New York? As in, America?"

"Ah!" Erik nodded in understanding. "America? I have no idea. Maybe a teleporter?"

"I beg your pardon? A what?"

Erik felt the blood drain from his face. It was like all his survival instincts kicked back in at once. He hadn't considered the possibility that Charles was a human. Stunningly beautiful or not, Erik thought he could trust himself enough not to pick up a non mutant in whatever intoxication event caused him to wound up here. But maybe he hadn't ended up here of his own volition? Maybe much more than a night of passion took place here? Erik didn't want to believe it. The one promise Schmidt had kept all his years of torment was to never leave him alone with a human. His throat burned with rage. He didn't know who to blame. Was it Schmidt who threw him into the siren's lake? Was it his frown fault for falling for Charles or was it Charles who seduced him? Could he be like Emma? A tempter to lull him into a false sense of security?

"Erik?" Charles reached for him again and Erik flinched so hard he almost knocked himself off the bed. Though quick as he did, he recovered and threw himself purposely from the covers to take a stance.

"Whoa!" Charles threw his hands up in a surrender. "What's going on?"

"Who are you? Really? Do you work for Schmidt? Is this one of his tests?" Erik yelled at him in German. The boy just looked confused, innocent, but Erik wouldn't take a chance. He reached to grab Charles by the front of his shirt and trap him in a death grip.

"Answer me!"

What happened next was hard for him to describe. It felt like his thoughts had been dialed up like a radio. They came to him loud, fast and panicked. It felt as if his skull would explode from the buildup. The excruciating pressure made his knees buckle, sending him to crash into a kneel on the carpet. Once every thought he'd ever think in his lifetime crossed his mind in the span of a second, it stopped. The pain disappeared as quick as it came. He settled into the same dreamy stupor as when he first awoke and the fight in him drained away. Erik's body swayed. He wiped a trail of blood from his nose and stared at it staining his hand like it held the answer to his bewilderment. When it didn't tell him, he looked up to meet Charles' gaze again. This time though, his wide eyes were filled with remorseful guilt rather than fear. With that one look, one more thought was able to cut through the fog.

Definitely not a human. 

"I'm sorry," Erik forced out. It sounded slurred even to his own ears. "I had to be sure."

The other boy's pinched face wrinkled his chin in a way Erik found endearing. The pale skin exposed by his tousled night shirt revealed flushed flesh in the shape of Erik's hand. He felt a pang of unexplained possessiveness at seeing where he had marked him. Erik blinked hard and shook some more of his dizziness away. He needed to focus.

"What was that?" he chose to ask.

"Something no one would believe if you told them." came Charles' answer back. The snap of the statement had the intention of intimidation but the boy's voice still swam too much to truly hit the mark.

"I have no intention of ousting you. I just want to know what you do." Erik pressed some more. He heaved as he finally willed him limbs to help him stand and drudged back over to the edge of the bed.

"I don't do anything! You're mad!" Charles yelled at him but also backed further away from him into the opposite end of the bed.

"I am not angry with you." Erik unnecessarily reassured. "How about a show of good faith?" 

Charles shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

"Just watch."

Erik closed his eyes, held his hand forward and curled it into a fist. In response, the maze of pipes behind the walls began to tremble. The bed frame under Charles rattled and the boy held the wall to steady himself. Small scatterings traveled first. Change from under the couch and screws that weren't sturdy enough to resist were attracted to Erik now reopened palms and fusing together into a ball. A knife from the dresser draw flew out and narrowly missed Charles head. He yelp when Erik stopped it midair and dropped it to the floor.

"Okay! Okay, you can stop!" Charles called out as a pipe burst in the bathroom and furled out from the wall like spikes.

Erik allowed to metal to forget his commands. The hunk of alloy dropped from where it floated a inch above his palm. The old bones of the room settled. He tossed the ball over to Charles who caught it in both his hands.

"My god! What was that!" Charles looked from the evidences of Erik's demonstration with a blinding smile. His bright eyes sparkled in amazement and curiosity as he scooted himself forward.

"My trick. My mutation." Erik wasn't sure of the English word for it.

"Mutation?"

Charles tried to form his mouth around the new word.

"A gift from creation. Something in my blood with makes me different. Stronger. Like you."

Charles looked down at the metal in his hand and back at Erik with wonder.

"I knew we weren't alone." Charles whispered.

"We?"

"My sister and I. She has a mutation, too!" 

Erik cringed at the pronunciation but nodded at the clarification. Charles continued to sing his praises.

"That was magnificent! You're magnificent."

"Metal Manipulation." Erik explained simply.

"Wow."

Charles tilts his head to the side making his bangs fall into his eyes. His expression held a sincere fascination that Erik wasn't used to seeing. When it came to his mutation, he usually was met with fear or harsh corrections. The best reaction he had yet to receive was from Schmidt's company applauding at him like a circus animal who just finished a trick. The attention was making his head hot so Erik was quick to direct it somewhere else.

"I hadn't been knocked over that easily in a while. What's your power?"

Charles' smile faltered. He sat up a bit and shifted like he was suddenly uncomfortable where he sat. Erik felt a worry in the back of his mind at how easy the boy was to read. That couldn't be safe at all.

"You can tell me." Erik insisted as more of a demand than a reassurance.

Charles looked away to answer.

"I can go into people's minds. Sometimes if I enter too quickly it can be painful for them."

"A telepath then. I know a woman like that."

"Really?"

"Yes. You can't turn to diamond, can you?"

"Pfff-no. Does she?" Charles snorts.

"When the mood strikes her."

That joke seemed to pull some of the softness back into Charles expression. He let out a ghost of a laugh and flicked up his gaze to meet Erik's again.

"Do you know a lot of people with…gifts?"

"I do."

"What are they all like? It must be so welcoming."

Erik's bubble of calm burst as he remembered Schmidt. The pure hatred that radiated from the German boy made Charles gasp.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

Erik forced himself to swallow down his rage. No need to scare the other again over a memory. No matter how traumatically horrible the memory may be.

"Its okay. You were just curious. I'm sorry to disappoint. They aren't good people."

"Oh."

Erik wished he could tell Charles differently, that he could affirm the fantasy of mutant comradery he had in his heart, but Schmidt only collected predators. People who were stripped of their innocents long ago and now cursed the world. Children who he broke and remolded to only know survival. The mutants in his life were either slave or jailer, neither of which being someone anyone should want to meet.

Erik felt his heart beat with sympathy he hadn't felt in year. He grabbed at Charles harshly to make it cease.

"You shouldn't project so much. You may keep your pity to yourself."

Charles flinched at his words and Erik experienced a shiver of fear run up his own spine.

"Stop it, I said!"

In an instant, Erik felt Charles retreat from him mind. With him left the remnants of brain fog that clouded his head. The idea of Charles hiding away in his mind from perhaps the very moment they met was not ideal. His clear head brought abhorrence toward the boy in front of him.

"Better." Erik acknowledged. "You do not follow directions well."

Charles looked down with newly formed tears in his eyes. "Sorry."

"I don't want to fight with you." Erik sighed, trying to brush off his own prejudice. "Your gift will be most useful while we figure out what's happened here. But for now, don't forget yourself. Keep out of my mind."

The young telepath nodded mutely, eyes still downcast to his lap.

"You're a pretty crier." Erik commented, reaching his hand out to brush away some of Charles' tears. "I have no intention of hurting you further if I don't have to."

Charles pushed Erik's hand away with a humorless laugh. " I don't think you hear yourself when you speak."

"Gentleness doesn't come naturally to me." Erik shrugged. "Does that frighten you?"

"It does, in a way," Charles admitted. "Your face is blank and your words are harsh but I don't believe you are aiming to be unkind."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I saw into your mind. I heard your worry, your protectiveness. I saw you make an effort to spare my feelings and soften what you know is cruel for my comfort. I think… that is the kindest thing someone can do."

The two shared an intimate stare. Erik mentally reinforced the walls Charles was expertly scratching at.

"You don't know me just from digging in my head. I could be dangerous. I am dangerous"

"I don't doubt that. But there is a reason I'm here with you now. I must have trusted you then, why not trust you now?"

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★,｡･: SFW Puppy! Clark X Reader ｡･:*★

─✰ Rating: Mild ─✰ Contains: possessiveness, pet names, petting ─✰ Word Count: 650+

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Dating Clark was kind of like having a big dog in the house. He refused to sleep unless he was practically on top of you. He always kept close to your side in public and was easily reined in by a small tug of his arm. He fetched things on command. Anything you asked for, he’d speed off to get then come back holding it out to you with a smile. When you worked and he had to stay behind on the farm, he finished all his chores too quickly then sulked on the couch while waiting for you to come home. Then the moment you walked through the front door, his eyes would light up and he’d race to pull you into a hug. 

He lived for praise, too. He beamed at the simple compliments and thank yous. Sometimes when he’d complete little favors for you, he looked down at you expectantly like he was waiting for a treat. The treat in question being a kiss. Preferably. He was also more than happy with hugs, pats or a quick brush of his hair. His eyes always flutter closed when you pet him. He’d lean into your hand no matter how fleeting or feather light the touch then look at you like he was drunk from it until he came back to his senses. 

There was the mildest down side of this behavior. Like how he’d get overly protective when a guy so much as glanced at you and practically growled at people from over your shoulder if they got too close. Then after acting out he’d spent the rest of the day glued to you, being over affectionate and clingy like you were planning for his replacement. Underneath your irritation, you found it endearing in a way. You found all of it endearing. You know his slight obsession with you wasn’t the soundest but you liked having your not so little puppy around. 

You’d never make the comparison in front of him, of course. He’d just fold up in embarrassment and make that little pouting face he did. His big, blue eyes would flicker over to you and your heart would break into a million pieces. Clark was so cute it was pathetic at times. He was so open and reliant on you, it was like he was begging for you to break him. 

One lazy day around the farm, you and Clark were lounging on the couch together. You were relaxing into the cushion with a good book while your boyfriend dozed in your lap. You smiled down at him as he whined and wiggled around to get more comfortable, deciding to reach down and rake your fingers over his slightly exposed stomach. 

“Comfy?” You asked amusedly. 

Clark blinked up at you from under his dark eyelashes and nodded. 

You set down your book and brought your free hand up to pet his hair. Clark leaned back in search of more while exposing more of his smooth neck and jaw that contracted as he tried to suppress the groan of pleasure. 

“You are so damn cute. Who’s a good boy?” You couldn't stop yourself from saying. 

Clark’s eyebrows knitted together as your words cut through his haze. He blinked a couple of times then went to sit up fully to meet your eyes. 

“What?” He asked with his head tilted slightly in question. 

“I'm sorry,” You tried to apologize, realizing your mistake, “It just kinda slipped out.” 

“I’m not a dog.” He insisted with his arms crossed. 

“Of course not. 

“I just like to have my hair touched.”

“Yes.”

“And a little belly rub is perfectly normal!”

“Perfectly normal.”

“You're making fun of me.” He whined.

You tried to protest but you couldn’t help but burst into laughter instead. You could practically see the puppy ears laying back. 

“Ahh, did I make Puppy upset?” You tease. 

“Yes! I mean, no!

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★,｡･: Dom to Sub Top! Clark Kent X Reader ｡･:*★

Summary: You meet a Red K infected Clark Kent. Looks like you've both met your match.

─✰ Contains: Making out, Oral sex, dry humping, size difference, begging, switching, pet names ─✰ Rating: Explicit ─✰ Content Warning: Unprotected sex, mildly dubious consent/ non verbal consent, use of "good boy" in reference to Clark, characteristic RedK attitude ─✰ Word Count: 2K+

A/N: The Red K has finally infected me! Clark referred to as Kal in this bc he's undercover (｡•̀ᴗ-)★

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The night had been slow but you expected it to be. The only people who come to this club on weekdays were the owners, their bodyguards and bored people who knew about said owners and body guards. You were the latter, always stopping by when you had nothing better to do in an outfit that screamed “I'm bored, take me home”. You stopped feeling shame a while ago. What’s shameful about wanting a rich asshole to show you a good time? You’d run their tab up on fruity drinks till you were sufficiently dumb enough to spend the night in a highrise you could only dream of owning. It was your little slice of pie for going through your painfully average life with as much grace as it allowed. By now it had reached 2am and you were just about to call it quits when a tall, dark haired man tailed in behind some old guy. 

You had never seen him before. You vaguely recognized the usual patriots and their rotation of muscle but you were positive you’d remember seeing those intense blue eyes. Just your luck, they sat in a booth adjacent to the bar. The two men seemed to be done talking shop if the light chatter and rolling chuckles you heard over your shoulder were anything to go off of.  

“Go, have a drink; enjoy yourself; think about what I’ve offered you.” You caught the older man saying. The exact moment your mystery man went to scan the room, you worked up the courage to look over your shoulder. When your eyes met, his pearly white canines showed in a wolfish grin and you knew you had to have him. 

You tried to keep it nonchalant. You looked back at your drink casually and subtly leaned forward over the bar. Over the quiet music, you could hear large boots stomp towards you. As much as you wanted to, you won’t look up until he acknowledges you first. 

“Hey,” He said simply, sliding in to slot himself next to you. “I’m Kal.” 

You looked over at him but had to orient yourself as you realized you needed to look up far more than you were expecting to meet his eyes. 

He continued. “This place is kinda a drag, huh? My apartment is much nicer.” 

“Straight to the prize?” You scoffed, surprised by the brazen behavior. “Usually the guy’s here at least offer to buy me a drink first.”

“Well,” He leaned forward to crowd you even more and traced a finger up your arm. “Lucky for both of us, I’m far from the usual guy. I see something I want. Why should I beat around the bush?” 

You defyingly place a firm hand on Kal’s chest. “I suppose. The real question is: what's in it for me?” 

“Easy. You get to spend the night with me and I’ll show you something you’ve never seen before.” 

Kal dragged his hand up up your thigh to then rest on your waist, sending a shiver up your spine. 

“What makes you so sure I've never seen it?” 

“I know a good girl when I see one.” 

“If I was a good girl,” You whispered up at him, sliding a finger in between a slight gap in his shirt buttons. “I wouldn’t be here talking to someone like you.” 

Kal smirked, licking his lips with a slight chuckle. 

“My mistake.” 

Screw it if this guy had the worst vibe in the world, you thought, that laugh needed to be ingrained into your soul before you could let yourself go home. You grabbed him by his front belt buckle and dragged Kal out the club with you. You stop near a motorcycle you were more than sure belong to him then grab the back of his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. Kal was quick to slip his tongue in, rolling it over yours as your lips linked together. He barely breaked for air with anytime you pulled back, the tips of your tongues still flicking, he’d grab your jaw and force you back. Mercifully, he let go of your lips once he’d sucked and nipped at them to his satisfaction but then he took to trailing those wet kisses down your chin and jaw. You knew they'd be a bitch to cover up if he left a hickey but you had no mind to complain when the mountain of a man in front of you pushed your pelvises together and forced you to grind against his thigh. 

“Oh, fuck,” You swore as you held on to his shoulder with no choice but to move along with his steel tight guiding grip. 

“Watch that pretty mouth.” Kal muttered into your neck. “Ready to go?” 

You just nod. You figured the next turn of events was you hopping onto the motorcycle that you were surprised hadn’t been knocked over by now but surprisingly Kal scoops you up in a bridal carry instead. 

“I’ll come back for the bike. I got something much faster.” 

You blinked as a gush of air hit you square in the face. The force of it was like a punch that left you dizzy and slightly disoriented. Once your eyes focused, you realized you were in a large penthouse apartment. The scenery was like a move with the moonlight flooding in from the open curtain to illuminate the bed. You looked up at the man who still had you gathered in his arms with a mixture of awe and excited anticipation. 

“Some trick” You managed to quip, trying to appear unfazed. “Let me down?” 

Kal sets you to the floor and rolls his eyes while you attempt to fix your wind swept appearance. He dragged you to bed, or more so picked you up again and slung you over his shoulder to carry you to the bed. You hit the mattress with an unceremonious “ooff” and turned a glare up at Kal who was already shrugging off his leather jacket. 

“Asshole!” You glared at him with a barely contained smile tugging on your lips. 

“Who, me?” He says cheekily while kneeling in front of the bed. Before you could ask what he was doing, he grabbed you by the hips and slid you closer to him. You watched in wonderment as he placed kisses along your thighs while making the most intense eye contact from under his eyelashes. For such a personality, you thought he had a sweet face. You could almost imagine him with a softer smile and an innocence shining behind those big blue eyes. Something compelled you to reach out and pet him. It was a simple gesture to brush his bangs off his forehead but still he leaned into the touch. Intrigued, you brought your hand back up to rake your fingers through his dark wavy hair. His eyes fluttered for a second and he let out a barely audible sigh as he dropped his head into your lap. Soon he was completely engrossed with your touch, making a deep rumbling sound of contentment. 

He let it go on longer than you had expected. Kal seemed to have forgotten his earlier mission of getting laid in favor of indulging his surprising need for gentle affection. You had been with those guys who got all mushy afterwards but this was taking it to another level. Experimentally, you grabbed a fistfull of his hair and tugged his head back forcing him to look up at you again. A giggle slipped past your lips as this pulled another groan from Kal. 

“Aww,” you cooed teasingly with a sickly sweet voice, “Looks like our big, bad wolf is really just a little puppy dog.” 

Kal jumped up and growled a dark “Fuck. you.” He knocked your hand away and grabbed your waist again to pin you to bed. His eyes seemed to glow as he tensed his jaw and seethed. Kal, focusing on his objective once again, hiked up your dress with more roughness than was necessary until it was bunched up around your middle. He tracing the lines of your body in quiet fascination before hooking his thumbs in the straps of your panties and pulling them down slowly. 

“Don’t piss me off, princess. You wouldn’t like how it ended.” He threatened, which apparently was asshole for “I’ll let that one slide.” You didn’t try to fight it, completely forgetting about playing hard to get. Your knee fell farther apart and Kal wasted no time ducking down and placing a kiss on your exposed pussy. 

He started slow with you. Long, teasing licks that made you shiver. Once you were sufficiently warmed up, quivering in anticipation and dripping down your own thighs, he became focused. Kal flicked his tongue over your clit at first, the tip of which tickled the nerves then dipped lower to lick in between your folds. He grabbed your legs to push them up more then buried his face in your heat to suck you in. The sensation was intense with your only relief being the seconds in between when he’d pull back from abusing your clit in a crude kiss like smack. You gripped Kal’s hair desperately, now with less control on your part. As your fingers involuntarily curled in, the groans coming from the man currently devouring you sent up a vibration that made your stomach coil. Kal then pressed the tip of his middle finger into you and you were suddenly reminded of how empty your hole felt. The curl of the thick digit rubbing against your walls was heaven but still you panted for more. He added in a second one to twist together in your insides and your mind filled with static as the pleasure builds to a peak. You cum with Kal’s bright red class ring bumping against your pussy lips. 

You vaguely register that the high pitch whining and ragged breath are coming from you. You look down at Kal with his chin covered in your juices and an accomplished glint in his eyes as you come down from your high.

“Good boy, Kal.” You panted his praise without thinking. It was his own fault for turning your brain to mush. You noticed the phrasing going straight to his head. His already red twang cheeks darkened and throat bobbed. You sit up a bit just in time to see the subtle way the man was rocking to try and relieve some of the pressure caused by his obvious boner trapped in his dark, wash jeans. The curiousness cleared your head enough to further your findings. 

“You look so good down there. On your knees just for me. Did you like your treat?” 

You were surprised when the man nodded dumbly up at you. 

“Do you want another one?” 

Kal nodded again with enthusiasm and jumped up to pounce on you. With your body trapped under his, it looked as if you had nowhere to go. Though it wasn’t like you were hurting to run off. Kal kept one arm over your head and the other reached for his belt. You stuck your hand in between your heaving chest to nonverbally tell him to slow down but your gesture was swatted away with a growl. 

“What's wrong now? I thought you wanted me to show you how good I can be?” 

Kal leaned down to kiss under your jaw and did you the indignity of only pulling his jeans down enough to free his cock, robbing you of getting to see more of his body. Kal entered you as sloppily and hastily as he was currently licking up your throat. You both groan in unison as he buried himself deep inside you. With his weight pining you to the mattress, he practically grinds his dick against your cervix. The whole affair felt so raw. You hold tight onto Kal’s bicep and try not to lose yourself again. 

Unceremoniously, you betray yourself by shuttering through your second orgasm. You throw your head back and accept the pounding Kal was giving you knowing there was no chance of him slowing down. The noise he made when he came inside you was strangely cute with it being a mix of a choked off groan and a blissful sigh. 

You didn't expect much aftercare but was pleasantly surprised by Kal engulfing you in a hug after rolling over to your side. He cuddled into your neck that was already darkening in bruises and just breathed deeply with you for a while. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Was the first thing he asked you after. His voice was so small and genuine, you thought you had imagined it. 

“I’m alright,” you reassured him and reached up to card your fingers through his hair. Kal sighed in contentment then squeezed you a little tighter. 

“Did you mean it when you said I was good?” He asked further. It almost sounded accusing, like he was expecting a no in response. 

“ I meant it,” you respond instead. “You can be sweet when you want to.” 

Despite the gentle moment, it was a bit hard not to notice Kal’s cock thumping against your thigh. After a while, he’s shamelessly grinding up against you and moaning into your ear. 

“Tell me I’m good.” he demands of you through haggard breathing. You almost felt like you were witnessing something you shouldn’t but played along anyhow. 

“You’re good. You did so good, Kal” You praised. You reached your hand around and hugged his hip so he was encouraged to move closer. “You made me feel so good. You’re a good boy.” 

Kal came as soon as those two magic words left your mouth. You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. Still, Kal must have heard you snort and pulled away quickly. 

“Hey, come back.” You tried but still couldn’t help how the amusement bled through into your voice. 

“Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to anyone.” He growled with his back to you. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it…princess.”

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★,｡･: Shameless Cherik Ficlet ｡･:*★

─✰ Bottom! Charles; Erik with a Telepathy kink ─✰ Content warning for: dubious consent and implied somnophilia ─✰ word count: 640+

Erik learned very quickly after hooking up with Charles that the man was not only very loud but had a bad habit of projecting. 

Now that he thinks about it, he was made aware of it even sooner than that after many nights shivering through a touchless orgasm as Charles masturbated not five feet from him in their shared hotel room. It only ever happened when Charles came home plastered from whatever bar they had stumbled on as they passed through different cities. Charles would insist he not go home with anyone because they were technically working but clearly he was denying himself if his drunken mind turned to this the first chance it got. Erik wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked with Charles' telepathy but it was as if he could feel Charles hand down his shaft, milking him at the same time as Charles stroked himself. He’d have to bite down on his pillow to not cry out as the pleasure built. Erik would hear the soft whines and audible groans from behind his back which peaked at the exact moment he’d be forced to cum. He’d never mention it to Charles. One part because the man acted as if he remembered nothing from those drunken nights but also because he didn’t want it to stop. 

Once they were back at the mansion, Charles had cut back a lot so, no more late night telepathic mishaps. Erik half blames his frustration in losing his midnight mind fuck for how quicky and shamelessly he got over his own inner turmoil and asks Charles out. He was far above getting a man drunk to sleep with him but to his delight, the prudish front Charles liked to put forth was just that. A front. He let Erik in his bedroom after their third official date while hanging in the doorframe and pleading with those big, blue eyes. Charles climbed into Erik's lap the first chance he got and rode him like his life depended on it. Despite being in the master bedroom a whole floor above the students, Erik felt the need to clamp a hand over Charles’ mouth. The man was moaning his name like a prayer and letting out tiny shrieks every time Erik touched him. Erik would try to scold him for his volume and Charles would try to listen but he’d just end up stuttering out sorry’s in between his involuntary noises. At some point, Erik found it easier to just flip them over and shove Charles face in a pillow so he could continue to ploy him without waking the whole house. Though Charles still had an impressive volume since it gave him the freedom to stop biting his lip. At some point during that first time, Erik dropped his head in mild exhaustion. As soon as his forehead connected with the crown of Charles' head, his vision went white as every sensation seemed to double in intensity and he came on the spot. The feeling was so addicting that Charles had to stop Erik from trying to fuck him every chance he got there after. That or trying to suck him off, finger him, jerk his cock, just about anything he could think of to make the telepath cum and in turn, give himself an equally mind blowing orgasm. 

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★,｡･Clark Kent X Lex Luthor｡･:*★

Summary: Clark stays over to the Luthor mansion and Lex takes the opportunity to fulfill a long time fantasy of his.

─✰ Contains: Dry humping, caught in the act, bathroom quickie, unintentional edging ─✰ Rating: Explicit ─✰ Content Warning: dubious consent/ non verbal consent, Surveillance, voyeurism without consent, Age Gap, General Lex horribleness lol ─✰ Word Count: 1k+

AN: Set around season 4/5 despite the early series gif ;p

╭.★..───────────────.★..─╮

One major thing Lex noticed about Clark in the first days of him staying over is he never locked his door. Not to the bedroom or the bathroom. Lex almost had a heart attack when he opened the bathroom door and was met with Clark Kent in only a towel, bent over the sink shaving and looking like one wrong move would have the fabric tumbling to the floor. Clark greeted him like nothing was out of the ordinary with a charmed smile and good morning. Lex had half a mind to believe Lana had been less than honest about Clark’s shyness but then again it could be that Clark didn’t view Lex as someone to be shy around. Clark would let him sit on the toilet during his long showers and then air dry in his room when they had nothing to do afterwards. He slept almost nude, in boxer and no shirt, and had no problem getting ready for bed with Lex in the doorway. Lex was by no means put off by the sight. Pleasantly surprised was a more accurate description. Lex found himself a new hobby of bursting in on Clark at all odd hours and seeing what state he could find the other in.

Lex had seen almost all the boy had to offer in just the first week of their stay together. Unfortunately for Lex, he’d yet to be able to catch Clark “in the act” so to speak. Lex severely doubts that a jacked up teenager like Clark wouldn’t masturbate every now and then, especially when it seems Lana and him weren’t seeing each other any more. The idea of it consumed Lex’s waking thoughts, making it hard to get practically anything done. He’d imagine Clark’s rosy cheeks flushed even deeper red with sweat rolling down his neck. He’d juggle between imagining him as quiet and breathy then loud and barely restrained. Would he do it in the shower, under the covers or out in the open like it seemed he did everything else? By the time he zoned back into reality, whatever he was working on read like gibberish and he’d be rock hard. Lex had to find a way to get himself under control and it seemed like there was only one remedy. -

It felt less insane to activate the cameras in Clark’s room than it probably was because technically they’d been there the whole time. The entire mansion was surveilled for safety so Lex could lie to himself and say he was just keeping an eye out. Lex watched him throughout the day. Clark surprisingly stayed home most of the time. From what Lex had overheard in Clark’s conversation with Chloe, he was glad to have some time to himself away from chores and school. The younger man mostly read, watched TV and failing at playing the handheld counsel Lex let him “borrow”. He had no intention of asking for it back. Clark would call his parents or Pete and talk. He’d nap in the middle of the day and raid Lex’s kitchen for all he could carry. Lex immensely enjoyed watching him through his work day. It brought him peace knowing Clark was not only comfortable and cared for but also contained under Lex’s roof and watchful eyes.

A bit disappointingly, he’d yet to see the show he tunes in for but one night after Lex lied about turning in early as opposed to his normal nocturnal hours, he got his wish.

Lex couldn’t help keeping his computer open by his side as he tried to relax into a book. He watched his security cameras religiously, especially in the Clark room. At the time, the boy was also reading while laying on his stomach. Clark was in nothing but a tee shirt and boxer, seemingly settled in for the night and relaxing as well. He looked rather engrossed in whichever book he’d plucked off Lex’s shelf. Lex made a mental note to ask him about it later before turning fully to his own novel.

About 10 pages in and Lex hears rustling from the microphone. He figures it was just Clark rolling over but his paranoid mind forced him to reopen the tab and check. Of all the ways Lex had imagined this scenario, finding Clark with his face burrowed in his pillow while rutting up against the mattress was not one of them. Lex quickly picked up his laptop and plugged in a pair of headphones he'd kept by his bedside. With the b-roll camera adjacent to the bed, Lex had the perfect viewing point.

The inciting book lay abandoned beside Clark as he tried to find an angle that was just right. It was frankly rather cute watching him struggle. Quite fitting of the sexually inexperienced young man. After wiggling around some more, the wet patch on the front of his boxers was plain to see when he rolled onto his side. Clark looked down at himself like he was both startled and distressed by erection. Still that didn't seem to stop him from shoving his hand down the front of his shorts and stroking himself hamfistedly. Clark’s voice trembled as he pleasured himself. A string of tame farm boy swears fell from his lips in between pants. His foot shook slightly and his toes curled in and Lex was willing to bet the boy had reached his end. But for the second surprise of the evening, Clark stopped abruptly before he could finish.

A shiver ran up his body and he leaned his head back to rest against the headboard. Lex figured he was edging himself and was a little proud of the kinky side he’d discovered. However, it became apparent that it was more to do with him being scared to finish, not delaying it. The movement and facial expression showed hesitation even though he desperately craved relief. After about the third time of stopping himself, Clark jumped up and scurried to the shower with a bright red look of shame.

Lex cursed himself for not recording any of the footage but it was much harder to convince himself that keeping the tapes was only for security and not personal gratification. Good thing the moment was seared into his brain like a brand. Lex shoved his computer off his lap and wasted no time yanking his night pants down and stroking himself to completion. As he panted from exertion, it turned out that his little peep show did more harm than good. Lex needed to see Clark cum and it seemed like Clark wanted that too.

– Lex shortly set his plan in motion. He invited Clark to his room to watch the filthiest movie he had that wasn’t just straight porn. Lex barely watched the screen, happy to sit back and observe Clark’s intense expression from the scenes playing in front of him. During a particularly intense moment, Clark leaned forward with his hands between his knees to try and hide the obvious hardon he had. He gulped audibly when the woman shoved the man onto the bed and slipped the tiniest whimper when she then climbed on top of him.

Lex side eyed Clark with an amused smirk. Clark shot up when they made eye contact and practically ran out of the room.

“I have to use the bathroom!”

Lex waited a tick before following after him. Surprising no one, Clark hadn't thought to lock the door. When the older man walked in, Clark was balancing himself over the toilet with one arm and unbuttoned his jeans with the other. The younger man practically jumped out of his skin when he noticed Lex and turned to face away from him.

“Geez, Lex! Knock!” Clark tried to grumble but his voice wavered as he was still breathing quite hard.

“I apologize. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You left rather abruptly.”

“Uh yeah, because I had to pee. I'll be back in a minute.”

Lex quirked up an eyebrow even though he knew Clark wouldn't see it. “You sure it'll only take a minute?” Lex smirked. Clark half turned him with that pouting scold Lex was more than familiar with by now.

“Stop teasing me. You did this on purpose.”

“What did I do?” Lex asked innocently which just made Clark even more flustered.

“Go away, Lex” Clark hissed at him, fully turning away again.

Lex tsked and walked the rest of the way into the bathroom. Clark didn't notice him until the man had positioned himself right behind the other and wrapped his arm around his waist. Clark gasped and reached up to grab Lex’s arm but hesitated right before.

“W-what are you doing?” Clark stuttered while trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Lex moved a hand up Clark shirt and the other he slipped under his waistband. The slight bit up pubic hair brushed his hand as he traveled down to grip the base of Clark’s erection. Instantly, Clark groaned pitifully and leaned forward to catch himself on the wall again. With the way he was bent, his ass pressed into Lex.

Lex stroked him slowly and deliberately so Clark could see how he moved his hand. He’d yanked down his pants further for better access and kicked the young man’s legs apart.

“See? That feels a whole lot better huh?” Clark shook his head but Lex wouldn’t be fooled. Not with the way Clark was bucked into his fist chasing more.

Lex was delighted to see Clark was uncut. Each time he pulled back the skin, he was met with clear precum dripping steadily from the head. Lex ran his finger over his slit of Clark’s tip and the man’s knees almost buckled. The steady stream of moan from the boy was cut off abruptly as he jolted and grabbed Lex’s wrist. He gave Clark a moment to rest before he resumed but Clark was grabbing him again almost as soon as he started.

“Lex…” Clark moaned. “I can’t.”

“And why’s that?” Lex prompted while giving him a few feather light touches. “This is why you're so frustrated; Why you get so excited so easily. You’ve been edging yourself. Have you ever even had an orgasm that wasn’t accidental?”

Clark shook his head. “It's not like that. I just can't! I get too hot before I can-” He banged his fist against the wall tile instead of finishing his sentence.

“Just let me be in control.” Lex whispered in Clark's ear. “ Even if you get overwhelmed, don’t stop me. It’ll feel good, I promise.”

To Lex’s delight, Clark nodded. He resumed pumping Clark’s cock at a steady pace. He brought his hand up the man shaft then twisted it as dragged it back down. With his hand slick from pre and sweat, Lex made quick work of bringing Clark back to the edge.

“Lex…” Clark panted with tear filled eyes. “I’m gonna-”

“You’re close?”

“It feels like I’m gonna explode.” He whined while balling his fist up to avoid grabbing Lex.

“You’re not gonna explode. Just relax.”

Clark shook his head as his whole body tensed up and his muscle spasmed from the force of his orgasm. White cum hit the marble floor in robes as Lex milked him for all he could give. When he was done, the floor and wall in front of them was splattered and Clark’s jeans were ruined. Clark laid his forehead against the cool tile and tried to gather himself as Lex whipped his fingers absently on a hand towel.

“Feeling better?” Lex couldn't help but ask as Clark picked himself up to finally tug his soiled pants up.

Clark only grunted in response. When he turned to the older man, Clark’s expression was framable. Half lidded eyes with blown out pupils and a deep blush stretched across his features. He shuffled a little as he decided whether to stare at the floor or at Lex.

The moment was almost perfect. Given his time galavanting in Metropolis, Lex was no stranger to a bathroom hookup. It was raw and dirty in an extremely arousing way for him but still he’d kill to see Clark face at the exact moment he reached his tipping point. Lex reached up and gave the man a quick kiss on the lips because he figured it was a good preamble to his next request:

“Wanna take this back to the bedroom? I’ve got a whole lot more I could show you?”

And maybe it was the endorphins flooding his brain or the way Lex was looking up at him but either way, Clark found himself agreeing.

╰★..───────────────.★..─╯

Force femming Clark Kent like its my job ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)

· · ──── ·.★.· ──── ·.★.· ──── · ··

★,｡･: Sub Top! Clark Kent X Dom! Reader ｡･:*★

Summary: You find yourself a shy farm boy on campus and help him come out of his shell.

─✰ Contains: Light Begging, Sub Space, Riding, Creampie ─✰ Rating: Explicit ─✰ Content Warning: Unprotected sex, mildly dubious consent/ non verbal consent ─✰ Word Count: 1.5K+

A/N: No gendering pronoun were used in this scene. Set around Season 5/6 specically (｡•̀ᴗ-)★

╭.★..───────────────.★..─╮

Clark had met you in one of his college classes a little bit after Lana and him broke off. He was back to school, trying to keep his mind off all the ways his life was imploding to enjoy some down to earth company. Clark had taken you out a couple of times and you’d study together when he found the time. You found it refreshing that Clark was such a gentleman and politely kept his distance as you got to know each other. That being said, anyone with eyes could see Clark was attractive. A sort of other worldly, once in a lifetime attractiveness that happened to be wrapped in flannel and tucked away in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. You found Clark’s shyness cute and endearing but that didn’t stop you from drooling over the slab of beef sitting quietly next to you like a wolf stumbling upon a lone sheep in the pasture. 

Clark would smile over at you with the dorky look of his and all you could think about was climbing the man like a tree. 

You thought for a second Clark was a virgin but that turned out not to be the case. Your best guest was recently indulged but hardly inexperienced if the recounts he stuttered through were anything to go off of. He definitely kissed like aman with something to offer. It was about the only initiate activity he’d allow. Ever the gentleman, Clark always asks before kissing you on the lips. Of course you’d nod and smile coyly before silencing a “finally” and diving in. His plush lips were always warm and he didn't hesitate about licking his tongue against yours the first chance he got. His large hand would cup your face to keep you close with his thumb pressed underneath your jaw. He’d only break the kiss to suck on your neck while gently tugging you towards himself. You were amazed at how fast he could leave a mark. If you were lying down, Clark would roll halfway onto you, trapping you between his legs and using an elbow placed above your head to prop himself up. You felt accomplished when you felt the man grow hard against your thigh. Every groan, every gasp, every instinctual roll of his hips felt like badges you’d collected. But as soon as things would heat up, he would pull back and excuse himself. 

You didn't want to pressure him but you were also tired of him starting something he had no intention of finishing. One night when you were particularly riled up and Clark was trying to pull another disappearing act, you grabbed him by his belt loop and yanked him back down. 

“Listen, farmboy,” you growled before taking a breath and collecting yourself to continue. “I know you’re a bit shy but I promise, we’re not doing anything I don’t want to.” 

“Its not that,” Clark gulps, still balancing himself where you're holding him. 

“Then what is it?” You encouraged, leaning in for another quick kiss. 

Clark pulls away again. “I mean, I like you a lot-” 

“I like you a lot too.” You interrupt with a purr and Clark smiles bashfully as his eyes wander down to your lips for half of a second. 

“I like you a lot and I don’t want to hurt you.” He tried again, clearing his throat and letting his sternness return to his features. 

“What? Afraid you’re gonna crush me?” You joked but by the guilty look that crossed his eyes you could tell the answer was yes. You let the idea play in your mind and honestly it didn’t sound as bad as he was making it to be. Still though, you were on a mission. 

“Well, if being on top is the problem,” You smirked while grabbing him by the back of the neck then trapping his leg and rolling you both over. “Then I can just take over.” 

You could see his pupils dilate and his breath become shallow as settled into his new position. As amused as you were watching him desperately come up with some kind of counter, you moved on to grabbing his wrists that lay petrified by his side and lifting them above his head. His shirt hiked up a tiniest bit but it was enough to see his toned stomach and plaid boxers peeking over his waistband. You leaned forward, pressing your hips flush with his again and kissed him. With every smack of your lips against his, you felt him relax further into your hold. You could feel Clark’s heartbeat speeding against your fingers tips as well as you could feel the pulse of his cock trapped between you. When you pulled up for air, you were half expecting Clark to still have that shocked look still plastered all over his face. However, you were pleasantly surprised to find him melted into the mattress with half lipped eyes and a slack jaw. 

“There you go,” You cooed, cutting into the silence. “Can’t hurt me if you're trapped, huh?”

You were surprised when Clark nodded and met you with a slurred “uh huh.” 

“Are you still with me, Clarkie?” You quipped and lightly tapped his cheek. He responded again about the same but you were determined to pull more out of him. You started to trail kisses from under his jaw and down to his neck, then down, down some more while slowly unbuttoning and lifting his shirt to make way. You stopped at his waistband, kissing the V- cut of his pelvis before sitting up to unbutton his jeans. You peeled him open just enough to catch a peek at the base of his dick when Clark jumped to his senses again. He quickly grabbed your wrapped to stop you but the pleading look in his blue eyes spoke to a different desire. 

“I can’t- we shouldn’t…” he tried to explain but it seemed he was talking more to himself than you. 

“Don’t worry, angel. You can’t hurt me from down there.” You smiled back and gently uncurled his finger from yourself. Clark let you do it and watched in awe as you tugged him free.  

Feeling him through clothes was nothing compared to holding the monster in your hand. The tip peeking out from beneath your hold leaks down your fingers like he was already ready to burst but given how much he’s been edging himself, maybe you weren’t too far off. 

“I hope this isn’t what you meant when you said you might hurt me? Sure it's big but I'm more adaptable than you give me credit for.” You give him a squeeze for emphasis and Clark whispers as his cock jumps. You wouldn’t let him know that the girth in front of you made you a bit nervous because none of that mattered. You knew you were gonna fuck Clark Kent before he stepped foot in the room and you intended to keep to that. 

You sped through undressing, deciding to only expose when was needed. Not to say you wanted to get the pony moving before Clark came back to his avoidant senses but you didn’t exactly want to take it slow either. You’ve taken it slow for long enough. 

The man released a breath you didn’t know he was holding in a low groan as you took him. Inch by inch you worked yourself down until he bottomed out inside you. Clark’s hands shot up to still your hips and you waited as he desperately tried to slow his breathing. You were sure he was done for but he was able to pull himself together. 

“God,” he whined, boarding on sobbed “I almost…I’m so-” Clark cut himself short with another tortured groan. 

You smiled devilishly down at him. “Glad you didn’t. Then I wouldn’t get to have any of my own fun.” 

You easily fell into a nice rhythm of sliding up and down his cock. Every time you slammed your hips down you got a jolt through your stomach and a string of pathetic moans from him as a reward. Clark was unraveling fast but you didn’t have much room to talk with the way dick inside you was hitting all the right spots. Through your elation you could make out the man underneath you gripping the edge of the mattress of dear life. Clark’s hips desperately wished to buck up into you but he seemed to be keeping himself still through sheer will power. Not that you were complaining. Watching the man struggle was almost as good as riding him. 

“Please…” He begged but you weren’t sure for what. You slowed down just a fraction and was quickly informed that was not the answer by Clark tossing his head and pleading some more. 

The last moments before your orgasm was orchestrated by the background sounds of Clark’s husky voice and the warmth of cum flooding your insides. You made sure to ride you both through it till every last drop was milked from him. 

Clark looked up at you through slightly damp eyelashes as you pulled yourself off him. You looked down at the mess splattered across the front of his jeans and felt the slightest bit guilty. 

“That wasn’t so scary, right?” You tried to joke, knowing you got carried away. You were expecting Clark to muddle through another barely audible answer but was excited to be flipped onto your back instead. 

“Yep,” you thought as Clark folded you into a kiss.”All he needed was the right encouragement.” 

╰★..───────────────.★..─╯

Content warning: Extreme Dubcon, Femdom/ Maledom, MMF, hate fucking

Now that I’m at the part of Smallville where Lex and Lana are together, I can’t get the idea of them inviting Clark as a third out of my head. They spend 90% of their time together talking about him anyways and they both obviously have feelings for him. 

Lex would definitely bring it up first. Probably mid way through sex too because he’s terrible. Lana would be appalled at the idea at first but then Lex’s revenge fantasy would start sounding a little too enticing for her to deny. Lana is no stranger to playing it loose with monogamy anyway and Lex is always eager to indulge in anything Clark related.

I can’t decide if Lex would convince them both he just want to watch while Lana and Clark make out/ fuck or if Lana would seduce Clark back to the mansion and have Lex surprise them. Either way, Clark would be deliciously apprehensive about letting Lex join but desperate to get back in Lana’s good graces. He'd try and keep his focus on Lana but Lex would force himself in-between them making it impossible. Things would start slowly but in the end, Clark would give himself away if it meant he could get an ounce of praise from his ex. 

Lana would make them kiss right before they start. Clark would protest that it wasn't necessary but Lex would just roll his eyes and pull Clark in by his neck.Clark would try to at least keep the forced kiss simple but then Lex would shove his tongue in his mouth.

Lana and Lana would make Clark strip for them, happy to marvel at his physic and growing self consciousness. Clark would try and curl in on himself like he does but then there'd be Lana to push him down and take her turn for a kiss.

It would be his first time with a man. The contrast of Lana's warm, soft curves and Lex's cold, rough hands would make Clark's head spin. Imagine Lex taking Clark from behind while Lana holds his head in her lap to talk him through it. Or them spit roasting her while Lex makes direct, intense eye contact with Clark. Or, better yet, Lex holding Clark’s hips while he fucks Lana to guide the pace and whisper in his ear.

More intensely, imagine Lex holding Clark down by his arms that are stretched out above his head while Lana rides him. Lana would hiss filth at him while gripping Clark's throat and take out all her frustrations on his cock.

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★,｡･: Cherik Mutant Road Trip Shenanigans ｡･:*★

─✰ Rating: Explicit ─✰ Contains: Slut! Charles, Cuck! Erik with a side of possessiveness, Strangers sex, Drunk sex, consensual manhandling, ─✰ word count: 467

╭.★..───────────────.★..─╮

During The Mutant Road Trip™, Charles and Erik shared a hotel room in almost every city they visited. Erik’s idea of Charles being a shy, prudish man was quickly shattered as he witnessed the other flirt with anything that breathed while they traveled. Then in turn, invite them back to their hotel room. Charles would bat his eyelashes at Erik and wave a twenty in his face so he could spend the evening alone with whoever it was he was entertaining that night. Men, women, humans, mutants. It seems to not matter to Charles but then again, it didn’t matter much to Erik either. He had a similarly loose preference but it did boil his blood to see Charles prancing around looking for a shiny new toy every night when Erik was more than willing to indulge him. 

In Charles' defense, it wasn’t like had tried before. There were many drunken nights that ended in the man baiting Erik into slamming him up against any available surface to make out and hump. But, Erik refused to go all the way. He believed that if Charles saw how depraved he really was, it’d scare him away and he’d lose the one person he held dear. Little did he know, Charles already had front row seats to every twisted fantasy the man wished to enact upon him. Charles is too proper to say it all upfront though so he ends up in another's company to satisfy his frustration.

Despite how jealous he felt, Erik liked seeing a sloppy drunken and lustful Charles dropping himself over anyone who’d let him. When Charles would drag home people he’d picked up at bars, Erik would often pocket the bribe and watch from the widow with a cigarette. Or if they had adjacent rooms, sit on his bed and listen with his cock in his fist. 

Charles knows he is there, of course. It was mildly alarming at first, catching Erik’s harsh gaze through the ruffled curtains, but then he felt the desire radiating from the other man's mind and now feels justified in continuing. Charles actually finds the game interesting. He starts to pick different types of partners every time to see what Erik likes best. 

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Charles Xavier X Erik Lehnsherr: Fanfic Teaser

Summary: Erik conjures up a plan to get what he wants: A steady flow of influence into the government he wishes to topple and an opportunity to lure Charles back into his arms. Erik will do anything to get Charles back at his side. Charles will do anything to feel loved again.

─✰ Rated: Mature ─✰ Content Warning: Emotional abuse, love bombing Grooming, Non consensual touching, internalized ableism Contains: Possessive! Erik, School Teacher! Charles, cannon divergence but not AU post beach divorce reconciling ─✰ Word Count: 2k+

AN: Little teaser trailer bc this fic it is getting a couple of updates soon. Note that the story is pre XMA but around the same time period. Enjoy!

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Magneto stands at the steps of The Mansion in full uniform and helmet, trying not to feel ridiculous. Magneto didn't show much in the light of day. Not since DC. The deep magenta was supposed to blend him into the shadow but amongst the light grass and marble fountains, all it did was draw attention. Mutant children gather a ways away to observe him, curious but not daring to come close. A few teachers slip from the front entrance, casting expressions ranging from worry, to surprise, to resentment. He tries not to imagine how he must look at them. Finally, Hank in his beast form opens the school to him properly, standing to the side of the doorway in silent invitation. Erik straightens his back and raises himself up the step by the metal in his suit. The children gasp at the display. Hopefully, he thinks, all they see now is power.

The steel soles of Magneto’s boots click against the marble halls of the school. A clear path through the busy hallways starts to form quickly as they make their way to The Professor's office.. Erik feels a swell of anger grow inside himself as he observes the number of students. So many children with a need for a home means dozens of parents who are incapable and unworthy of such mighty youth. He breathes in and tries to calm the fury. How grateful they all must be for a home amongst their kind, he reminds himself, and how fortunate the brotherhood will be to have them when they grow. Erik’s eagerness to begin returns and his stride behind Hank quickens.

At Charles' office, Hank turns to him for the first time since letting him in. Though, he looks upon Erik from the corner of his eye, head tilted down and posture guarded. Erik was a bit saddening to see that underneath all the wild fur, teeth and claws, Hank was still the same timid young man.

Hank then dashed towards him, taking the front of Erik’s shirt in his paw.

“I will be right outside this door.” Beast snarled. “If you try anything, if you move too quickly or breathe too hard, I’ll tear you apart and rip that cape off your corpse.”

The air from Hank’s growl fills the opening of his helmet. His pupils are pins as he lifts Magneto an inch or two off the ground. There is a moment of stand still when Magneto debates bursting a pipe to avoid being mauled when Beast drops him. Hank huffs while fixing his glasses then raps lightly on the door, calmed again.

“Come in!” Charles calls from inside knocking Erik out of his shock. Magneto smoothes out his front again and goes to enter, bumping into Hank as he does for good measure. Erik for once is glad to be proven wrong but truce or not, Magneto will not be threatened

Charles is sitting behind his big, mahogany desk with his hands crossed over his burgundy notebook. He had kept his hair long, Erik notes. It was a little past his collar bones at this point which peeks out from under his lilac shirt. He saw the bit of bulk that had built in his arms that wasn't noticeable under the usual suits he wore and along with it, the way his face had slimmed down. He noticed the faint cracks and wrinkles around Charles' eyes that were just as bright and blue as he remembers. As Charles comes from behind the desk with a polite smile and an outstretched hand, he notes the color polish on his fingernails and fading children marker scribbles on his arms. Bracelets shift over old scars on his wrist. Erik tries not to stare at the chair while still picking out the stickers and charms that adorned it.

Erik’s heart almost stops when seeing Charles this close after all these years. The guilt he’s set aside of what he is about to do threatens to stop him but he persists despite it.

“Charles,” Erik greets him. He takes the man’s hand, not quite shaking it but holding it gently in his own. “The years have been kind to you, old friend.”

“How sweet of you.” Charles responds with a quiet breath of surprise. “Have a seat, please. I had tea prepared.”

“No chess? You know, we do have our best conversations over games.” Erik grins.

“It’ll be all work, no play today, I'm afraid.” Charles chuckles lightly and the sound pulls something forward in Erik.

“Hank, I think I can handle things from here. I believe there is a matter that calls for your attention downstairs?” He asks politely, turning back to the doctor.

“Downstairs?” Hank responds, shifting.

“Prefects in the labs.” Charles half whispers.

Hank looks between Erik and the door with confliction.

“We’ll be fine.” Charles reassures him warmly.

“Well…If you need anything…” The “If Magneto starts something” is implied.

“I’ll call for you.” Charles finishes for him, wiggling his fingers by his temple. “Go before something blows up. Again.”

Hank hurries from the office muttering about changing passwords. Charles calls for him to shut the office door and Hank is sure to slam it behind himself. Charles sighs, looking extremely tired for half a second, before turning back to Erik and motioning towards the couch.

“Trouble in paradise?” Erik asks lightly as he makes his way over to it.

“I’m sorry about Hank. He’s a good lad and he’s still…adjusting to himself; I try not to take it personally.” Charles rationalizes, rolling over as well.

“I’m pleased to see Hank showing more confidence. He’s protecting what is his; I take no offense to it.”

“Thank you. That’s very mature of you.”

“But now me, were you bluffing about the lab?”

“There is a training room next to the lab some of the children have been sneaking into. I’ve been electing to not tell Hank while they have their fun but I don’t think we’d be able to accomplish much today with his hovering. And, just so happen, one of the children can spawn an indestructible suit of armor that is very insistent on testing at this moment.”

“A happy coincidence and a suit of armor, how useful.”

“I know what you’re thinking; He’s far too young for the team.”

“Do you, now?”

Charles gave Erik a strange look, his head tilted slightly with his smile faltering.

“Just a bit of curiosity; perfectly healthy as long as we keep an eye on him. He can forget his friends aren’t as indestructible.” He continued, recovering quickly while ignoring Erik’s comment.

“How old is the youngest on the team?” Erik presses.

Charles shifts a bit.

“No younger than anyone on the first team.”

Erik hums and crosses his arms.

“We didn’t exactly disband under the best of circumstances. I’ve always wondered why you choose to start this-“ Erik gestured to the school. “Up again?”

“Their unofficial first mission was earlier last year after an incident in the mansion–. Charles starts to say.

“I heard. An explosion, wasn’t it?” Comments Erik, interrupting.

“An accident.” Charles defends. “WIth Alex and an intruder. And a generator in Hank’s lab.” He shakes his head at the memory. “We lost the left wing but no one was hurt, thank goodness; Peter, the boy from The Pentagon, was able to get everyone out in time.

“I heard the government got involved.”

“Yes, some of the teachers and students were taken in.

“You should have called.” Erik says, disappointed.

“I was a bit...indisposed.” Charles answers vaguely. He pushes a bit of hair from his face and Erik catches sight of a scar he didn't remember Charles having. “Besides, they didn’t need much help. They rescued me and the others all by themselves. They even found Logan, if you’ll believe it!” The proud gleam on Charles’ face reminded Erik of their early days. The way he looked simultaneously surprised and faith fulfilled while also showing a twinge of foreboding that darkened his features.

“Really?” Erik raises.

“There was no stopping them after that, I'm afraid. I think they’ve developed a taste for the action. Plus they have my bleeding heart.” Charles laughed again but Erik could tell his heart wasn't in it. “Raven thinks it's better this way. It's protection. For them and us.”

“Since when do you listen to what Raven has to say?” Erik means it as a joke but he thinks Charles doesn't take it that way.

“A lot has changed since you've left, Erik.”

The sentence makes Erik shiver. He isn't sure if it's from the chills of regret or because Charles has finally said his name.

“I can see that.”

Erik stands from the couch to compose himself and allows himself a look around the room. More so than checking the exits but really taking things in. The walls are as pale as the rest of the building but near its bottom is crayon and stickers similar to the ones on Charles. He has photos tacked to the walls next to his degrees with frames dusted in glitters. The desk was equally lived in with more frames, photos, books and half graded tests. Erik picks up the oldest frame there containing a photo of Charles and Raven as children. Both were smiling big in a faded polaroid with Raven in her true form.

“I've always said you'd be sitting ducks here. That they would be watching for weakness and come for you and your children.” Erik absently runs his fingers over the corners of the frames.

“I feel a great swell of pity for anyone who comes to my school looking for trouble.” His smile is completely gone now. He leans forward in his chair and gives Erik a stern warning of a look.

Erik smirks and sets the photo down.

“Still. I can't help appreciating what's been done here. I can tell your children find pride in this place. Curious children are children without fear. That's how it should be.”

“I agree.” Charles says, stunned.

Erik comes back over to the couch and sits close to Charles. Their knees almost graze.

“Young people like that will seek out trouble just as we did. Better aim them at a common enemy then have them picking every battle that crosses their path.” He sets a gentle hand on Charles' knee in approval.

“Erik,” Erik sighs softly in response to his name, tilting his head slightly towards Charles. “It's great we’re seeing things eye to eye for once but I doubt you set this meeting to catch up. Your letter- it was quite brief- what is this all about?”

Erik just looks at him from under the edge of the helmet. Its shadows make his face unreadable and his mind remaining a frustratingly muffled hum. All Charles could see was the metallic-like shine in Erik’s eyes and toothy smile.

“Erik?” Charles tries again.

“There this way you say my name, i can’t quite place it.” muses Erik, not quite responding to him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You say it with such ease despite…everything. I’ve missed it. I-” Erik clears his throat. “I miss you, my old friend. That's what this is about.”

“Erik, I told you, today won't be about games.”

“I’m not the joking type.” He says sincerely. “I'm tired of fighting you, Charles. I’m done so much yet with so little movement. I see what you accomplished, I see the small piece of the world you've carved out for our children and how you let your dream spread out. You could convince anyone to believe. I need that. I need you to make our dream a reality.”

“And what dream is that, Erik?”

“Mutant children, mutant families. Our brothers and sisters, free from discrimination and fear.”

Erik leans forward and takes Charles’ hands in his.

“I know you don't think we want the same thing but we do. We always have.”

Charles' eyes puddle with tears that threaten to spill over. He has a pinched look that stretches his lips thin and wrinkles his chin.

“I will not go through this with you again. I will not be a part of your massacre.”

“Not a massacre. Not anymore. A shift in opinion could save us all.I understand that now.”

“I don’t trust you.” Charles whispers to him like scared to say it out loud. “That’s never been your way.”

And there it is. The real hurdle he must jump to further his plans. Erik tries to let emotion show in his face. The hurt and regret. He looks inside the dark parts of Magneto and tries to be the man Charles remembers him to be. A young man stricken with tragedy who fell into violence because it is all he’s known.

“It could be!” He pleads back. “And I’ll prove it.”

With a swift flick of his powers, removed the helmet. The solid metal easily comes apart, falling in halves on either side of them and crashing against the floor.

Erik isn’t sure if Charles jumps because of the noise or the sudden wave of emotion from Erik’s usually concealed mind but he persists nonetheless. He calls on the memories of his mother, of the war, of killing Shaw and the burning dissatisfaction that followed, of losing Charles, of their fight on the plane and his failed apology, of needing to shoot raven and hesitating, of the brotherhood and all the responsibilities that now lay upon him to make good of his promise for a better world. He screamed his regret and fear into Charles’ mind and when he didn't have any more memories to give, he let the longing take over. The dull ache of loneliness that lives in his chest laid bare.

“I won’t hide from you, Not anymore. Help me, Charles. Help me make something good of this.” Erik knows Charles will have bruises tomorrow from how hard he’s gripping him. He sees the way Charles blinks rapidly and winces in pain, futilely trying to tug himself free, then grabs him tighter. “Help me make something good of me.”

“We can solve this but you have to calm your mind!”

“I must've forgotten how to silence my thoughts. I’ve been wearing this helmet for so long. If I could feel you in my mind, I would never be able to leave.” Erik seamlessly wrapped his lie in a truth.

He remembers the way Charles would settle in his back mind; not prying but a presence similar to a telepathic hand of the shoulder. It was calming, reassuring, comforting, forgiving- all the things Erik needed to stay and all the things he gave up to leave.

The picture of Charles’ pain filled eyes, pleading yet disapproving, haunts him. He thought about the beach again. Erik knew Charles was probably telepathically screaming for Erik to change his mind. The usual light wash from his powers would have been like waves crashing on the shore,

Charles looks at him with the same eyes now. Erik knows Charles is watching these memories right alongside him. He hopes he can see how beautiful he remembers him being. Even at his worst moments, Charles shines like the sun over sea water.

“This is all too much!” Charles cries while shaking his head. Erik is so close now he can feel the other’s hair hitting his face as it moves.

“I’ve always been too much and you loved me anyways. You saw the good in me when no one else did!”

Charles’ eyes were becoming blurry and unclear. Erik could see him trying and failing to collect himself.

“Why now, Erik? Why come here now?”

Erik knew this was the moment of truth. He wouldn’t be able to lie to Charles. He knows his true intentions were lying just under the surface. So, instead of answering, he crashes their faces together while gripping either side of Charles' head. Erik doesn’t know if the noises from Charles are that of protest or pleasure but still takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in.

Charles grips the front of his suit, stuck between pushing him away and pulling him in. Erik pulls away just as Charles relaxes into him. Tears flow freely from Charles unfocused, half lidded eyes. His lips hang open, pink and swollen with a string of spit connecting them to Erik’s. He sobs quietly, breath rushed and heavy but he’s still holding Erik close to him.

“Perfect.” Erik thinks as he dives back in.

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