Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/208168.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      X-Men:_First_Class_(2011)_-_Fandom
  Character:
      Charles_Xavier, Erik_Lensherr, Emma_Frost, Azazel, Mystique, Hank_McCoy
  Additional Tags:
      Shapeshifting, Body_Image, Masturbation
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-06-04 Words: 1750
****** A Look Inside ******
by the_ragnarok
Summary
     5 times Raven jerked off pretending to be someone else, one time she
     didn't, and one time she did it as herself.
Notes
     Written for
     [[community profile] ]
kink_bingo, for the "bodies and body parts" square. Beta'd by the very, very
lovely immortal_crow.
0. Raven
Her bed is large enough to fit five of her. In a rare fit of whimsy, she
changes into a woman she saw on the bus a few nights before, so big she barely
fit into her seat. She fits fine in the bed, though, feels right in place
there. Raven stays like that for a while, because she's warm and clean and fed
in a huge foreign house, and being larger is comforting.
She can't fall asleep, so she slips her hand between her legs in mindless
habit. If you lie just so, and place your hand just like this, you can make
yourself feel good and nobody can tell as long as you wash your hand after. She
doesn't think about anything in particular.
After a few minutes it's too warm under the blankets. The room has the
unbelievable luxury of a lock, so Raven throws the blankets away. Her eyes have
adjusted to the dark already: she leans up on her elbow and looks at herself
with interest. She wonders where her girl-parts come from, in this body. She's
never seen the woman's privates. How does her body know? Maybe she's just
making this up.
As she looks, her form wavers, and she sees a flash of blue skin, mottled
fingers moving on it. It doesn't feel good anymore. She stops, and punches her
pillow.
Weeks pass before Raven can just go to sleep in Charles' house.
1. Charles
She shouldn't be doing this. Even ignoring the moral question here, Charles
will know. She bites her lip.
But Charles promised. He won't go into her mind without her permission. If
Raven can't trust him, who can she trust?
Not even herself. Which is the main problem. If Raven were trustworthy, she
wouldn't steal Charles' form to play with, to do things Charles wouldn't want
her to see.
But it's not fair, wails a small voice inside her. Charles can see all her most
private thoughts, even if he's not interested in them; she, who wants to see
him, see all of him, so very badly, can't. Shouldn't.
Does.
He bought her the mirror she's looking at right now, the one hanging at the
corner of her room in his parents' house. The skin in the mirror is pale, soft
and unscarred. Blue eyes, full red lips.
Raven touches her lips, Charles' lips, and wants.
2. Hank
Raven has come to the sad, sad understanding that she has a Type, and that type
is geeky, soft-mouthed guys who won't give her the time of day.
She likes Hank, fucking tease though he is. He'll let her sit in his lap or
sprawl over him when they're sitting on the couch together, bullshitting with
the other young mutants.
That's such an odd thought, other young mutants. It's been so long since
there's been anyone but her and Charles, who calls her a sister and means it.
It must be better for him, a load off his shoulders. Here, some other freaks to
keep his adopted freak company.
She hates to admit it, but it's a relief for her, too. She loves Charles, but
hates being his charity case, his example to what a Good Mutant should be.
(Charles himself doesn't count, of course. Look at him, so handsome, so normal.
She can barely even imagine anyone calling him a mutant.)
But Hank. With his lush mouth and soft, pretty face, prettier than Raven's own
real face ever was. Raven dreams of licking it, biting into pale skin – not
hard, just enough to mark, to show what Hank is really like underneath. Raw and
vulnerable and hurting. Smarting.
She's sleeping in her old room again, with the same mirror on the wall. She
wears Hank effortlessly. It's not the first time she's done this. She's never
seen his cock, but she likes her body's idea of it, the thing it shifts into.
It's long and skinny, almost small in Hank's hand. She loves his fingers.
Jerking off as a guy feels pretty much the same as it does as a girl, only with
a better view. A dick and a clit feel a lot alike. Maybe that's just how her
brain makes it work, though.
(She's thought about asking Charles, before, but it never got to more than a
thought. Thank God for promises kept.)
She spreads her legs a bit and cradles her balls with her other hand, rubbing
them, the hair coarse against her palm. Rubs her fingers behind them, hesitant.
Doing it to her own body feels good, pressing halfway between her openings. It
never felt very good when she did it as Charles, when she did it as other men
she saw and wanted. In this form, though, it feels like something lighting up
inside her, makes every jerk of her hand on her cock feel intensified.
Hank's face in the mirror isn't beautiful, twisted in pleasure, but it calls to
something in her nevertheless. It makes her gasp and close her eyes, spill over
the mirror and over her own hand. When she opens them, she still sees Hank,
covered in spunk. Her cock twitches.
She gives herself a long moment to watch this picture. She briefly transforms
Hank's feet, to make this normal, to see if she can make herself want something
ordinary.
Turns out she can't. With his feet changed, Hank just looks wrong. She changes
them back.
3. Erik
It's part vengeance and part petulance and part hurt feelings that Raven would
never admit to, but it feels awfully satisfying. And in her defense, the guy
did just kiss her, then leave her to her own devices.
Something petty and horrible in Raven wonders if Erik went to Charles for
comfort (for fucking, the mean voice whispers), leaving her here. The ugly
sister, now and always. Even if Erik claimed she was prettiest as she was.
So she doesn't bother feeling guilty about it, wearing Erik's scars and his
handsome face and his cock, pulling on it until she spunks all over his bed.
4. Emma
It was better when it was Charles. That, Raven could at least understand.
Frost, though, sets Raven's teeth on edge, and not just because her diamond-
form's voice sounds like fingernails on glass.
Erik listens to Raven. He talks to her and he doesn't just pat her on the head
and send her to bed like Charles used to; but he ignores her when she comes on
to him, every time. Him and every fucking guy.
Fuck it; Raven is ugly. There. She said it. She knows she is. Fuck men if they
want to fuck pretty, evil Emma Frost instead. Even if they told her she's
pretty just as she is.
Seriously, fuck them.
She changes into Emma's form without locking the door. So what if someone sees?
Everyone knows what Emma looks like getting laid. It's half of what she does
with her power these days.
It's almost enough to make Raven pity her. Everyone knows that Emma does that,
that she'll fool anyone into thinking she's fucking them. Everything for The
Cause.
Erik's been looking at Raven too, lately. With something like actual desire, so
it can't be about Raven. Must be about The Cause. Perhaps soon Erik will ask it
of her, too - "Pretend to be some general's wife," maybe, or maybe, "This guy
has a fantasy, go fulfil it."
But he hasn't asked. Yet.
Coming as Emma Frost is brief and frustratingly unfulfilling. Raven could be
mean and say that probably explains some things, but she's pretty sure she's
just projecting.
5. Azazel
She flees into her room and locks the door. Only then does she allow herself to
shake.
It's stupid. Raven's had guys hit on her. What is she so freaked out about?
Never in my real form, she thinks, and hides her face in the pillow.
There's a moment where she comes close to wallowing in self-pity, only the ugly
freaks want me as I am, ugh. Then she snaps out of it.
She's looked like Azazel before, worn his shape to play decoy for a mission.
He's easy to slip into, maybe more so than most, easy to hold. She takes her
tail, Azazel's tail, in her hand. It's muscular, quick and strong. She's seen
him kill men with it innumerable times.
Raven watches herself in the mirror, watches Azazel stroking himself off. He's
badly scarred and thickly muscled. A survivor. It's not what she usually looks
for in a man, but where did that get her? Maybe she needs to start looking at
different things.
6. Mystique
She brings the chair close to the mirror, sits and spreads her legs. The lights
are on, harsh and bright. There's nothing in here that she shouldn't know.
Her pussy is a darker blue inside, her labia mottled with soft spikes. Her
inner lips are glistening wet. They feel good when she touches them. Always
did. Now she's working on thinking it looks good, too.
It shouldn't matter – it shouldn't fucking matter if she's pretty. She can kill
men now with her bare hands, she's sprung Erik out of jail more than once.
Compared to that, who the fuck cares what her pussy looks like?
I do, she thinks, and she rubs her clit. It's large, larger than it is in
almost every feminine form she's ever taken. She likes that now, likes that it
reminds her of hard greedy cock, good to have under her fingers.
She wets her fingers in her mouth and looks at herself. Her lips are the same
hue as the rest of her face. Not sexy, except that she has her own taste in her
mouth, and her fingers push deeper inside.
She takes them out, back to her pussy. Closes her eyes, because it feels too
good to worry about looking. She spreads her inner lips with her fingers,
awkwardly fucks herself with her other hand, just to get everything nice and
wet.
Raven can make herself come three times in quick succession. Doesn't always
have the time for that, but when she can, it's fucking amazing.
After she's done, she opens her eyes. It's just her there, sitting in a chair.
She goes around naked as often as not these days. Hardly anyone looks at her
and thinks of sex, anyway; she's too different, too alien-looking for that.
Fuckers don't know what they're missing, she thinks, and goes to shower.
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