there’s a face in the mirror

both strange and familiar

[connfidencegame]

independent & private roleplay blog for a fandomless character, Charles Edward King, a.k.a. Charlie Spencer - a conman, a scammer, a grifter, a liar & the man of many faces and lives but never his own. penned by Mari (30+, she/her, UTC-3).

code of conduct . basic lore . tags . headcanons . memes

[connfidencegame]

[mcflymemes]

"STOP PUTTING YOURSELF INTO DANGER!" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for expressing your fear that the person you care about might get themselves hurt if they keep acting like this, adjust as necessary

i thought i told you to stay back.

i love you too much to let you get hurt like this.

this affects me, too, you know.

every time you leave, i sit up all night waiting, praying you'll come back alive.

you keep pulling stunts like this and something bad will happen.

do you have a death wish or something?

this isn't fair to me.

i deserve better than this.

i didn't get any sleep last night because i was so worried about you.

you promised me you'd stop going out at night.

i don't like hearing this.

you've been risking your life, and for what? so you can feel like a goddamn hero?

i said i would handle it.

what the fuck are you doing here?

you told me you'd stay put.

so much for laying low.

you remember how bad it was last time.

seems like you haven't learned anything.

i believe you promised me you'd lay low.

i can't keep doing this.

don't give me that look.

we'll discuss this later.

this stops now.

i'm tired of picking up the pieces once you've left.

you keep throwing yourself into danger.

you don't give a shit about yourself, do you?

i'm sitting here, worried out of my mind, while you're out doing god knows what.

that was really stupid of you, and you know it.

i thought you knew better than this.

what's your excuse this time?

you do realize what this does to me, right? seeing you get hurt like this? you know it hurts me, too?

you really don't give a shit how this affects me, huh.

that was the dumbest possible thing you could have done.

i need you to stop throwing yourself into harm's way.

that was completely unnecessary.

they had it handled.

you didn't need to step in like that.

why do you think you're invincible?

the last time you pulled a stunt like this, it nearly got you killed.

i can't just sit here and watch you get hurt.

what are you trying to prove?

you just like fucking with my heart, don't you.

this shit hurts me, too, you know.

you're not the only one affected by this shit.

you've got a lot of people counting on you to come home every night.

what happens if you don't come back?

you think we can just carry on without you?

you think i can handle things if you end up dead?

i'm not sticking around to watch you get hurt.

you're not even slick.

you think you're invincible, don't you.

quit pretending you've got everything under control.

let someone else do it for a change.

you can't keep putting yourself through shit like this and expect me to just sit back and watch.

i'm done with this.

next time you do this, i'm not coming back.

promise me this is the end.

look me in the eyes and tell me you'll stop doing this.

let the authorities deal with it.

you're making a big mistake.

is it worth dying for?

i've dealt with enough pain over the years.

[wakingdrcams]

Dahlia is surprised but irritated by the genuine laugh the other man let out. Alright, she'd be lying if she tried to say he didn't have a nice laugh, but that's not the point. The point is that he's interrupting her job, one that's paying out the ass to be done, and she isn't about to let him distract her from doing said job. If she could take a month off and go somewhere better than this place, she's going to do everything she can to make it happen.

And then he says 'Marcus' and she knows what's happening here. She isn't in his way, and he isn't in hers: They're in each other's ways. Fuck.

Pressing her lips together, she steps out of the stall to lean against the frame of the stall door, considering the man before her, considering the job, considering what she can do from here. She's a cunning woman, but he's bigger than her. She could try bribing him, but bribe him with what?

Sighing is her way of telling him he's right. "Sure do. He hired you, too?" She presses the tip of her tongue to the point of one of her canines. "Should've known that bastard was up to something. The money's too damn good." Her gaze shifts to look directly into his eyes. She doesn't like this man. But, at the same time, she does. He could be useful.

"So, what, do we work together, or rock-paper-scissors for who gets this guy?"

[connfidencegame]

"No one is that generous, right?" Charlie quipped at her comment in relation to the pay for that job; not the way he preferred to go about things (conning others was not a safe workplace environment; he generally did it alone if only to reduce the number of variables), but sometimes a partner wasn't the worst thing in the world... As long as he stayed vigilant.

Moving further backwards, the grifter's palms turned outward and he used them to support himself against one of the sinks, exhaling air shortly while he pondered on the woman's suggestion. He suspected there was no way of spinning that in favor of either party - they would be suspicious and skeptical by nature. Charlie did grin at the idea of using rock-paper-scissors to resolve that, but ultimately cleared his throat before returning to their business discussion.

"I was thinking about working together," Charlie jerked his head at the entrance, but it was a false alarm; someone just bumped into the door but did not get inside, which fortunately preserved their temporary (and needed) privacy, "You're here, I'm here - we both lost time and money to get to the guy. So why don't we split this and you bring the guy outside and I finish the job? This way you don't need to pretend to be into whatever he's offering you for one more second."

He supposed that their target was going after a happy ending and wouldn't suspect of foul play from a drunk girl. Getting their man outside, away from cameras was probably the smart move. "Sounds like you have the worst part of it - you should get the bigger cut," Charlie smiled again, then dislodged one of his hands to extent it in a greeting to her, "Name's Charlie, by the way."

[leondore]

[runladybugrun-deactivated202604]

LADYBUG nodded at Charlie's question. He was used to the dull ache that accompanied little hits like that. There were usually bruises on his body from them. Still, it didn't change the fact that they did hurt, as his wet eyes showed. LADYBUG swallowed back a whimper, choosing instead to focus on how nice it was to kiss Charlie. The man groomed himself impeccably and always smelled divine. Shit, LADYBUG knew it was part of the act — but that made Charlie no less enticing.

Then again, it wasn't hard to look like a million bucks next to LADYBUG. His old blue jeans had a tear across the left knee, and the t - shirt crumpled on the floor with his jacket was at least ten years old. Most of the bands pressed onto that denim coat didn't even tour anymore. LADYBUG didn't care, though ; there was no one in his life he needed to impress.

Besides, all of the wealth and infamy he could ever need was just a phone call away, and that world wasn't concerned with the stacks of cheap bracelets on his wrists or pooka shells around his neck. It occurred to him, dimly, that he should let Charlie know more about how his life worked — beyond what trickled in to support their unusual partnership. Maria wanted Charlie, which meant her superiors wanted Charlie ... but LADYBUG just couldn't ask. Charlie was too private, too much his, and, besides — he wasn't interested in having the younger man find out who he used to be. THE YELLOW JACKET was gone, buried under hundreds of hours of expensive therapy, and LADYBUG much preferred to be the individual laughing at Charlie's names for their endeavor. This was all Charlie ( and he ) needed.

❝Mile Long Club ?❞ he repeated, pressing their foreheads together momentarily. ❝Sure. I like it — it's catchy.❞

LADYBUG reached back. He unzipped his pants, hooked his fingers into his clothes, and pulled both his jeans and underwear down his thighs. The sensation of his cock and balls coming free almost made him dizzy with relief. LADYBUG released his garments with a blown - out breath. Unashamedly, a calloused hand took one of Charlie's and brought it between LADYBUG's legs.

Satisfied, the blonde let go. He leaned forward, lording over Charlie once more with a pleased smile. ❝C'mon, baby,❞ LADYBUG whispered, stealing another kiss. His fingers slid under Charlie's shirt. ❝Mile Long Club's the better name, but your other idea ... it's pretty good. More for, uh — club initiation. I just need you to make me nice and hard. Because, in my mind, it's only fitting that getting railed is how you join, huh ?❞ LADYBUG's lips trailed to the side, toward Charlie's hair. ❝I even packed the expensive lube in my bag, y'know ; I couldn't help dreaming about how amazing you'd look getting fucked silly like this. Didn't think I'd have such a perfect name for that vision, but ...❞ The twitch of his hardening cock betrayed him, and LADYBUG resisted the urge to moan in Charlie's ear. ❝What do you say, Charlie ?❞

[connfidencegame]

The younger male's grin remained firmly in place with the validation of his suggestion, but the amusement on Charlie's face slowly melted away as Ladybug disrobed, focus clearly shifting to something else: his partner's naked form. It was always pretty enticing to look at him and the myriads of scars, marks and other mementos of his unique life - they never talked about these, of course.

Charlie didn't care for what had happened in the past - it was more important to him to live in the present, something that showed in the eagerness of the palm that took control of the gift being so generally offered. The younger man didn't need to be told twice - the way his fingers wrapped around the exposed length and started to work it came naturally, even if he was momentarily distracted by a kiss and the huskier tone that his partner's voice was assuming by the minute.

"So you actually planned this, huh?" Charlie murmured back, seeing no need to keep their original tones. It was less out of consideration for those occupying the other cabins and more because it was fitting - Ladybug was the first somewhat fixed thing in his chaotic, unreliable life. While the conman did not historically do attachment or relationships, it had been somewhat easy to label their partnership as something else and profit from the added intimacy it brought.

It was all fine and dandy to go around finding strangers when basic urges bloomed - but it was much nicer to have Ladybug fucking him when he already knew just how to make Charlie sing (figuratively speaking).

"I thought the cramped bedroom was just our usual luck," Charlie breathed, realizing how he shuddered at the heat coming from Ladybug and feeling bothered by his own clothes. The free hand moved pathetically to the side, trying to wriggle himself out of the half-opened shirt but failing and pleading for help (all of it done with very decent puppy eyes, even if his hand down below was nowhere close to innocent). The tailored pants and underwear were the next obstacles - and Charlie made sure to grind against the other man to draw his attention there, biting back a moan of his own.

"I say I'm making good progress," Charlie responded with a lopsided grin, blue eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that mixed well with desire. Comparatively to Ladybug, the conman had smoother hands - and they slid over his partner's dick with ease, enjoying the growing volume and heat. "But I'm going to need help with the rest of these clothes if you're hoping to put it where it belongs, you know. Fancy lube or not," the conman chuckled, even if that was an action cut short by a sharp turn of the train that had Charlie gripping the other man harder for balance (luckily not to the point of causing him pain).

[connfidencegame]

Five movies/shows to understand Charlie and which helped shape him

Nightmare Alley (2021): the cornerstone; Bradley Cooper plays a grifter with too much ambition and charisma, also touching on the supernatural element;

Nueve Reinas (2000): the quintessential con movie for me. Also my first Ricardo Darín experience and I cannot recommend this enough;

American Hustle (2013): funnily enough Bradley is in the movie but it's originally as a cop. I like the elaborate sides of the con, the creation of other identities and how it all can crash and burn beautifully;

The Color of Money (1986): Charlie never had a mentor, but if he had one - that would have been Eddie. Vincent's raw talent and stubbornness are beautiful to watch, but it's the way Eddie manipulates (and teaches) Vincent that did it for me; and

Midnight Mass (2021): the religion (and supernatural) influence for his backstory. I loved the way this shows religion can blind people to facts and bring the worst in some; another significant component is the misuse of faith for personal gains and/or the cruelty that alienates the flock.

[connfidencegame]

@il-mostrc . plotted starter

A dark, sarcastic corner of Charlie's mind couldn't help but notice that his current predicament was not unlike being forced into a cult. He had orders to follow, despicable things to do and was then left alone to contemplate the burden of the choices made just to survive. Deep down, the grifter wanted to believe that the only reason that he carried on the assignments received from his boss was pure, undiluted self-preservation.

(But why the rush of adrenaline not unlike when he pulled off a successful con? How come each job became easier than the prior one and took him one step further from whoever he used to be?)

But thinking about these things and the dark twists of fate wasn't the proper way to go about his current mission - not when everything around him was so damn expensive and decorated as if the owner intended to be featured on a specialized magazine for interior décor. Charlie's gloved hands had searched the most obvious locations for a safe - and yet, nothing had turned out.

Where the hell did a doctor hid his precious money? They weren't supposed to be that difficult to read, even if they could have the strangest hours. Huffing in frustration, Charlie's eyes gazed at the frames on that private office while his brain tried to come up with more creative for a safe (the kitchen? The wine cellar?) until he found something of interest - not an answer, but maybe something even better.

There were documents pinned which seemed to suggest the owner being not an actual doctor but a psychiatrist instead. Frowning, Charlie started to peruse the books with attention now, flashlight pointed at their names and authors and growing agitated at the budding idea. Perhaps this was it - the way out of the dark rabbit hole he had fallen into when accidentally targeting the estranged daughter to an old local mafia boss and turned into their goon (the only option instead of an unmarked grave).

From an incipient thought to execution, there wasn't much time - the psychiatrist returned home sooner than Charlie expected and the clumsy bow to his head had been harder than intended. By the time the older man had came around, he was comfortably tied to one of the best seats of his office, as well as gagged with some of the most expensive handkerchiefs the grifter had ever seen.

"Doctor Lecter?" he asked, having taken a seat across the other man and looking apologetic for that entire situation, something further highlighted by the small and awkward smile that followed, "I'm sorry for this, I really am. I just wanted to chat but I needed to make sure you would not... Involve the authorities first."

[kabaks]

sexy character concept to me: liars who lie & perform and when they are told to stop performing they start lying in a different way and you try to get to the bottom of the layers upon layers of half-truths to find The Truth and when you think you’ve finally gotten to it it’s a blank piece of paper that says 404 not found

[runladybugrun-deactivated202604]

from @connfidencegame —

[ train ] our muses have sex while riding the train

It was the cheapest overnight car possible. The sort with thin makeshift walls, two narrow beds, and barely any room to stand. — but that was simply life with LADYBUG, who always lost his wallet and relied on Maria to send him new cards or cash. In spite of the poor accommodations, though, LADYBUG still had the same insufferable spirit. He was as loud and pleased with himself as ever. It was with this terribly merry charm that he managed to get Charlie into one of the beds.

When the other man was flat on his back like this, LADYBUG couldn't help but appreciate how good he looked. Fuck handsome, Charlie was downright beautiful. Those eyes ... people who were far better at poetry than he had written epics about eyes like Charlie's, LADYBUG was sure.

❝You know, with a trip this long ...❞ LADYBUG leaned down for another kiss. His glasses were somewhere on the floor. After a few moments, he moved back, blue gaze glittering as it stared hungrily at Charlie. ❝There's no way we weren't going to test it out.❞ The excitement he felt was evident in his low voice. ❝C'mon, we already made it into the mile high club — do you think there's a name for fucking on a train ?❞

LADYBUG pulled away just far enough to yank off his t - shirt. The muscle beneath it was tight and well - honed. In the midst of declaring that they should come up with their own label for having sex while traveling on a rail, LADYBUG leaned his head to the side to shake out his hair. He hit it against the wall with a dull thump that reverberated through the flimsy structure.

❝Shit. Ow.❞ The blonde scratched at the sore spot. He looked at Charlie through his lashes, broad grin suddenly sheepish.

[connfidencegame]

Charlie often looked sharp - tailored shirts, matching vests, perfectly creased pants and expensive accessories such as watches and wallets usually completed the look. It was nothing more than an act - he was hardly wealthy himself, or even a fan of looking so damn proper all the time. Most people, however, tended to see him as a more reliable and professional individual based on looks alone.

And physical appearances could be a powerful ally in many aspects - that probably explained how he ended up prisoner to Ladybug's powerful thighs in bed, their bodies swinging ever so lightly with ever turn of the train tracks and clumsy undressing (which had left the younger male with a half-opened shirt and the tie hanging loosely around the neck).

Perhaps blaming it all on how attractive Ladybug was would be incorrect - Charlie didn't end up fucking every good-looking guy he found unless it was critical for a job; the fact that the other man was not a target (but a partner) spoke volumes of the strange synergy found there, as well as a degree of trust. The commentary for having sex on a train had the grifter laughing, the sound dying quickly when the other man took his shirt off - well, fuck that.

Charlie's right hand immediately moved to touch his partner there, digits trailing over the hard muscle he would never have - the sheer strength of Ladybug was dangerously deceptive and he was happy to be on the man's good side. Blue eyes blinked with a flash of hunger, his pants growing uncomfortable as Charlie's short nails teased the flesh underneath - but his attention soon enough went to the other man's face.

"You okay?" he asked, a question far more common than anyone expected when it came to Ladybug and his notorious bad luck. Charlie had witnessed it more than once, as well as the strange way it reflected on himself - the conman was weirdly fortunate around the older professional, which was something he tried not to think too much about (no such thing as religion or supernatural, after all). Charlie offered Ladybug a grin before pulling him back for a kiss, tasting the nicotine that remained behind after their last smoke and some insanely sweet, cherry-flavored bumbleggum.

"To make you feel better," he clarified, as if a kiss was a magical solution for each bump and collision Ladybug went through. Charlie's hand then returned to their mission, trailing over his exposed torso and going lower, seeking the hips and enjoying the way the other man reacted to the caresses (which sometimes turned into firm grips to avoid an accidental fall to the ground).

"I was thinking Mile Long Club, by the way," the younger male chuckled, moderately pleased with the answer before locking gaze with Ladybug's equally blue eyes, an amused twinkle present for the entire time thanks to that specific conversation, "Getting Railed sounds too obvious, don't you think?"

[bigblue]

Kal opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie was talking before he could speak his mind. Knowing it would be rude, he didn't bother butting in. By the time Charlie stopped, however-- and honestly, the thought of his penis somehow biting and stinging anything had Kal laughing into Charlie's open mouth-- he was too distracted by the simple bliss of kissing that correcting any misconceptions took a backseat.

It was more important, Kal felt, to press his tongue to Charlie's own and taste him. It was more important to slide his hands appreciatively over his bare torso, to scrape blunt nails along Charlie's abdomen, and to hum appreciatively as he sucked the spit off the other man's tongue.

He'd been close to forgetting all about his peculiar anatomy until Charlie spoke again, all soft and tentative in the scant space between them. And despite himself, Kal laughed once more, though this was less because things were funny and more because--

"If you wanted answers, you shouldn't have distracted me."

--but even as he pretended to scold him, Kal's affection was clear in his tone, in the soft suck to Charlie's bottom lip, and in the shine in his blue eyes as he pulled away once more. This time, when his fingers drifted down to his trousers, he made the effort to slip them off. Based on the outline of his length in his boxer briefs alone, Charlie might be comforted to see that it was, in fact, mostly human-shaped (even if it was bigger than average). But seeing was only one of the five senses, and Kal knew more proof was necessary.

"C'mere."

The hand that took Charlie's was a little more confident now, bolstered by the pleasure of having kissed him deeply only moments earlier. Kal leaned in to smooch the side of Charlie's neck, and he sucked gently at the same time he drew the man's touch lower to trace the shape of his dick through his underwear.

"And no, dear," he promised, half-teasing, "it won't bite or sting."

But as Charlie's fingertips approached the base of Kal's (now half-hard) dick, there came the inevitable contact with what he was talking about. In his rising arousal Kal's knot-- a slight bulge that Charlie could feel protruding from the otherwise uniform length of his shaft-- was starting to grow. The delicate touch over it, however barred by fabric it was, made Kal shiver with pleasure.

"Here on Earth the only other species to have something like this are canines," he admitted, releasing Charlie's hand so he might pull it away if he wanted to.

"I know for a fact humans don't have one. It really is just me, or Kryptonians in general, or... or something, I don't really know.

"But it's real. And it's... it's part of me."

[connfidencegame]

As Kal anticipated, a considerable portion of the anxiety triggered by his prior statement evaporated as Charlie got to gaze at him in underwear only. Thus far, there was nothing that looked truly concerning as long as they were properly prepared, which didn't seem to be a problem at all given the kisses shared. The conman really wanted it all - Kal; the hunger that seemed to be barely contained behind the yearning touches and open-mouthed kissing; the endorphins released in his blood not only because of sexual activity but because he felt so desperately needed for once.

(Not one of his false identities or made-up personas - but Charles; the hollow shell of a man who somehow had done good enough to impress the one they called Superman.)

There was a sheepish chuckle of his when Kal lovingly berated his lover for causing distractions, but Charlie's hand over the erection was firm enough. Blue eyes went wider with surprise, but there was no fear there while the raven-haired one added more context - Charlie's grip merely lingered even when he could have moved, tracing the slightly different shape with a mix of innocent curiosity and debauchery. After all, it was hard to stop when Kal sighed like that, looking so dreamy and perfect - like a painting, a god sculpted out of marble or something equally holy and good that the grifter didn't have the words for.

"Damn, Kal," he murmured, sounding as fascinated as he felt. Insisting on that path, however, had Charlie twisting his wrist, seeking to overcome the barrier presented by underwear and slipping his digits inside, feeling the other man's skin instead of the mere promise of it. The only thing stopping the conman from yanking the boxers was Kal's own reaction to it - if he was the first one to do it... He didn't want to startle or make the other male uncomfortable.

"Does this mean that I get to call you a 'good boy' when you're fucking me?" he murmured out of nowhere, looking up at the Kryptonian with a toothy grin that translated the absolute peace of mind he felt now. Charlie almost laughed with relief - if that extra size was all that there was to it, he would be fine; sore, unable to walk properly if Kal fucked him like the conman hoped he would, but nothing more.

"Is this part more sensitive than the rest?" the grifter wondered, digits circling, rubbing and stroking Kal's knot with the care that he would apply to a con, trying to memorize it by touch. He realized his own body responded positively to it, producing an increased heart rate, shallower breathing and allowing for sweat beads to form at the back of his neck, not to mention making his own clothes uncomfortably tight.

"Can I... Take you in my mouth? I want to see every part of you and taste it, too."

[connfidencegame]

[connfidencegame]

once you're stripped clean, what's at your core?

fractured glass

no amount of orchestrated class is ever going to hide the fact that you’re doomed to be alone. you’re a puppet, you’re a weapon, but most importantly? you’re a fraud. your facade isn’t malicious, but that doesn’t change a thing. everything in your life is in your control now, and you chose to let yourself become stiff and distant. you’re guilty of everything you blame yourself for, and your misfortune is the fault of nobody but yourself. your selfish nature forges you into a man-made monster, so quick to blame and so desperate to escape consequence. i hope that you can become someone you’re proud of soon.

tagged by: @bigblue (ty for plunging the knife into my back) tagging: @finalslay (Bigby!) . @wakingdrcams (Dahlia!) . @a-ofspades & you!

[finalslay]

@connfidencegame sent : 13) getting a little too handsy on the dancefloor / "i needed a distraction, and here you are" / belt loops . pull my muse closer by their belt loops .

mundy nightclubs are all the same : full of scents that are too strong and noises that are too loud. bigby doesn't understand the appeal. sure, the drinks are good, but other than that, what's the point of it? hell, if he didn't have to keep an eye on some fables that had decided to have a night out in the big city, he wouldn't be here in the first place. as it stands though, the sheriff's work is never done.

it isn't that fables aren't allowed to venture outside of fabletown — quite the opposite, actually. it is just that bigby doesn't fully trust everyone in this particular group not to run their mouths once they've gotten a few drinks in them. sure, they can say that they know better than that, but it still doesn't make bigby believe it any more than he did.

the lights flashed overhead in shades of blues and reds. the music's bass bumped through the speakers with a noise that is borderline overwhelming in its intensity to those highly sensitive ears. there is a cigarette hanging between the big bad wolf's lips — still, he desperately needed a drink as well if he was going to have to subject himself to this. something to focus on, a distraction of his very own.

the wolf moved to cross the room, carefully weaving his way through the crowd of dancing bodies, both mundy and fable alike. he had almost made it to the bar, too, when a man suddenly appeared in front of him. the stranger's hands are on bigby's belt loops before he has time to react, tugging him closer towards him as if to pull him into a dance.

“ i needed a distraction, and here you are ” is the flirtation that falls from the other man's lips, and truth be told, bigby doesn't quite know how to respond.

bigby should rip his throat out right here for everyone to see for the audacity of it, that's what he should do. that is what the (former) reputation of the big bad wolf calls for, after all.

the interesting thing, though, is the fact that bigby doesn't seem to mind as the guy tugged him towards the dance floor. he doesn't seem to mind as those hands wander up his arms and across his chest, a crooked grin on the stranger's face. no, instead, he can only focus on the scent of him : it makes his nose twitch, but not with that sense of overwhelmingness that the rest of the crowd had. this is something far more appealing, something more akin to want — the wolf's interest is piqued, even if he would like to pretend otherwise.

still, it doesn't stop him from at least trying to play hard to get.

“ i think you could find plenty of better distractions than me, sweetheart. ” the words are uttered low and gravelly, bigby watching with a keen eye as the other moved to the beat of the song, his hands still pressed up against him. the wolf exhaled, a cloud of smoke following in his wake. “ i ain't the dancing type. ”

[connfidencegame]

For once, there was nothing to it - no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive, no long game being played. Charlie had simply been alone for enough time to recognize he needed a distraction from his own thoughts. Nothing too good came from pondering over his past choices - if the conman was not working, then examining his youthful years and career path was hardly illuminating.

Drugs, booze, sex, gambling - they were all valid addictions to offer a escape from reality, but Charlie didn't enjoy all of them equally. As a grifter, gambling came with work; drugs dulled the senses too much for any proper job to be done. Drinking and sex - well, these were part of his professional life too, but usually the only combination that let him drop the myriad of personas constructed for victims and be himself... Whoever that person was.

That night, however, it sounded like 'Charlie' was just desperate to get laid. He hadn't had much to eat prior to finding the first shady, questionable club in the city, then ordering himself a couple of shots to loosen up and go on the hunt. He knew he was handsome enough - dashing blue eyes, a smile to charm even the most cold-hearted bastard and a silver tongue that was as good as selling lies as it was with offering temptations.

He needed to feel something and finding another person with the power to do so shouldn't be hard in a seedy location like that - and when his eyes caught sight of the man at the bar, he went for it like a thirsty traveler finding an oasis. Something about his clothes, the look, the half-smoked cigarette: he spelled out 'danger' and Charlie's self-destructive energy craved precisely that.

Pulling him to the dance floor had been the easy part; feeling him up through the shirt too, which only got the conman more interested in the follow-up steps. He was a fit, strong one; that hand of his could choke the life out of Charlie's neck and his voice heralded some of that sharp edge, even with the music blasting from the speakers. The other man's remarks earned him genuine laughter, with Charlie's hand only tightening the pull and leveling their faces, left palm then finally letting the stranger go free to steal the cigarette from his lips.

"Who says I'm looking for a dancing partner?" Charlie shot back, voice getting louder just enough for the other male to hear from where he stood, grinning around the stolen stick, "Don't sell yourself short, darling," he offered a term of endearment with the same spirit that the darker-haired man had delivered it, taking one last drag before holding the cigarette away from their mouths altogether.

"I'm Charlie. Why don't you give me five minutes over there so I can show you why you're the best thing about this club tonight?"

[busyw0man]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀

send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt, nsfw implied

[ dizzy ] sender kisses receiver until they’re both breathless and laughing

[ hush ] sender kisses receiver to keep them quiet in a tense moment

[ linger ] sender pulls back slowly from a kiss, savoring every second

[ mid-laugh ] sender kisses receiver right in the middle of their laughter

[ cover ] sender cups receiver’s face as they kiss, fingers gentle on their skin

[ spin ] sender grabs receiver mid-twirl and kisses them dramatically

[ sleepy ] sender places soft kisses over receiver’s closed eyelids

[ twitch ] sender kisses the corner of receiver’s mouth when they smile

[ secret ] sender kisses receiver where no one can see, hiding their feelings

[ collarbone ] sender kisses receiver's collarbone in a moment of stillness

[ silent ] without a word, sender pulls receiver in and kisses them slowly

[ saved ] after thinking receiver was gone, sender kisses them in relief

[ chilled ] sender kisses the cold tip of receiver’s nose to warm them up

[ jealous ] sender kisses receiver hard after seeing someone else flirt with them

[ hallway ] pinned against the wall, sender kisses receiver between hurried breaths

[ promise ] sender kisses receiver and mumbles a quiet vow against their lips

[ nap ] sender kisses receiver gently while they nap, not wanting to wake them

[ ache ] sender kisses receiver like they’ve been waiting forever

[ clumsy ] sender bumps noses with receiver, then laughs and kisses them anyway

[ blanket ] sender and receiver are wrapped in a blanket when they start kissing

[ forbidden ] sender kisses receiver even though they know they shouldn't

[ backseat ] sender and receiver sneak kisses in the backseat of a car

[ apology ] sender kisses receiver to make up after a fight

[ lipgloss ] sender kisses receiver and leaves a shiny smear behind

[ achey ] sender kisses every part of receiver that hurts

[ tease ] sender pulls back just before their lips meet, over and over

[ sinking ] sender kisses receiver while pulling them into their lap

[ sway ] sender kisses receiver slowly as they dance with no music

[ stars ] under the stars, sender cups receiver’s face and kisses them like a wish

[ balcony ] sender and receiver sneak out to the balcony for a stolen kiss

[ temple ] sender kisses the side of receiver’s head without saying a word

[ sunlit ] sender kisses receiver in the soft light of morning

[ please ] sender murmurs a soft 'please' between every kiss

[ familiar ] sender kisses receiver like it’s second nature

[ ache ] sender kisses receiver like they’re trying not to fall apart

[ thumb ] sender wipes a tear from receiver’s cheek before kissing them

[ flutter ] sender gives receiver a light, barely-there kiss that leaves them wanting more

[ crashing ] sender and receiver kiss like the world is ending

[ tremble ] sender kisses receiver’s trembling hands, calming them

[ chill ] sender pulls receiver into their coat before kissing them

[ tug ] sender tugs receiver closer by their collar and kisses them firmly

[ wrist ] sender presses a soft kiss to the inside of receiver’s wrist

[ slowburn ] sender and receiver finally kiss after holding back for far too long

[bigblue]

It was hard for Charlie to remember the last time someone told him he had done good - and meant those words. Not a victim of a con believing his lies, not his mother repeating platitudes when illness had her too far gone; but a genuine compliment that suggested that, deep down, the grifter had some hidden goodness in his soul.

He didn't - it was wasted on a guy like him, surely. But when Clark said it, it felt like Charlie was the one falling for some cosmic scam. It was impossible (it had to be) but slowly, he started to take these words to heart; and before long, Clark had him feeling things.

Good things - beyond the self-loathing the the cynicism.

Deep down, the conman blamed it all on Clark's biology - surely those from Krypton could manipulate his thoughts or emotions; Charlie was willing to believe almost anything about aliens at that point in his life, after feeling like the Earth's greatest fool for not realizing who Clark Kent truly was; but now that the secrets were no more, he struggled to understand the nervousness that seemed to be controlling Kal at that moment.

"What is it, Kal?" Charlie frowned at him, leaning backwards in the bed - he was only half-dressed after shower and Kal's looks had suggested that putting on anything would be a waste of time, a need Charlie was just too happy to oblige after so long dancing around each other's presence, "What is wrong?"

— from @connfidencegame, unprompted.

The day had gone so well that it felt... well, natural to get here, at the risk of sounding like a big cheese. Over the past few weeks, following the arrest of Claudia Manchester, he'd taken Charlie to dinners, two movies, and even a space museum, and after the last date ended in a passionate kiss that left Kal breathless in front of Charlie's door, it had taken every ounce of self-control he had not to muscle into his apartment and shove him against the nearest solid surface. Charlie hadn't invited him up, and so Kal would respect him for it.

Today, though, it was Kal who invited Charlie in. And it was Kal who kissed Charlie as he guided him into his home, only tangentially remembering to lock the door behind him until minutes were spent against the counter of his kitchen.

"I want more," he'd whispered then, hands carefully squeezing Charlie's waist. And then Charlie said yes, and Kal's heart jumped into his throat.

He didn't argue Charlie's need for a shower, certain that that was a thing people did before sleeping together. He'd even sat with his back to the bathroom to make sure he didn't accidentally peer at him with his X-ray vision. Then when Charlie came out, and they kissed some more, and Kal's heart fluttered because oh, he smells like my shampoo, the man found his way on his bed with such ease it was like a tornado went through his room.

Kal's shirt came off easily. Then his belt was undone, his pants unfastened, and as he crawled into bed and thought about the feel of Charlie's naked skin against his own...

Frankly, he didn't realise he'd frozen until Charlie spoke up.

Kal blinked. His hand was on Charlie's cheek, and the other was resting on his waist. "Oh.

"No, I... nothing's wrong." The word felt too negative, especially when his blood was still pumping warm in his veins. Kal chuckled sheepishly, shaking his head. "Definitely, absolutely, certainly nothing wrong, I just thought... I realised..."

He licked his lips, meeting Charlie's eyes with a sheepish little twinkle in his own.

"No-one's seen me down there. Not until you. And I'm not nervous, I'm excited, but I also never told you..." Kal sat back, and in an attempt to stay connected kept his hands atop both of Charlie's thighs. "I'm not, uh, completely human-shaped. Down there."

[connfidencegame]

Kal's sudden hesitation had Charlie raising both eyebrows; perhaps because it was difficult for him to imagine an individual like Superman being afraid or uncertain about anything (although Kal had confessed to feel the same fears and anxieties as anyone else). As the conversation changed direction towards intimacy, however, the conman's lips parted to allow for an understanding 'oh' to get out... Only for that interjection to be entirely replaced by a confused noise and eyes going wide.

Being Kal's first lover (as incredible as that notion sounded) was one thing; just another hard-to-believe fact because there was no one else more popular on the newspapers right now, and Charlie was positive he had legitimate fan-clubs and lines of willing men and women. But the fact he was not human-shaped had the grifter's mind running wild, perhaps falling prey to the creativity one needed to scam others of their good fortune.

"What do you mean, not human-shaped?" Charlie asked, voice betraying a bewildered state of mind and tone going perceptively higher; a noticeable trait when he was scared. Not that the blonde man realized that, or even felt threatened - but when Kal looked so human to the point of perfection, it was hard to think that his lower parts would be anything but generous and equally designed by the gods.

"You look perfectly... Compatible?" Charlie mused, a hand of his going to Kal's head and brushing some of the unruly hair there. It was crazy he didn't see through Clark Kent's false identity when they were so much alike, but right now he had other pressing matters. Nevertheless, he didn't fight the urge to comfort and encourage Kal - whatever... Alien uniqueness he possessed would be resolved. There was no way a planet as advanced as Krypton would have sent Kal down there if he couldn't survive or reproduce.

(At least that was the gist of the recording Charlie knew existed about his biological parents.)

"Unless you can bite or sting me, I think we'll be fine," Charlie smiled at Kal then, bringing him down for one more of these kisses; hungry and needy but with a desperation of their own that was something he could use to soothe his nerves. There was a lot to unpack - being a first to someone; the responsibility of not disappointing the only person who truly perceived Charlie as good man; and ultimately the idea of not dying after being fucked by Kal.

"You can't do any of these things..." Charlie murmured against his lover's lips, taking in a shaky breath, "Right?"

[lilac-rph]

     If you knew the truth

             —  You’d probably hate me.