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#Khonshu imagine
betyloca · 3 months
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Imagine: being the reincarnation of a priestess of Khonshu, being Marc's younger sister and that he always keeps you away from the god.
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Marc: Don't go near her, I don't want you near her.
Khonshu: Do you think you will always be by his side?
Marc: Yes.
Y/N: Marc, who are you talking to?
Marc: *turning to see you* with no one
Y/n: but I saw you talk
Marc: I didn't talk to anyone, we didn't have to go to the museum today.
Y/n: yes you are right let's go
As they walked, you noticed the shadow of a man with the head of a crow. When you turned around you didn't see anything
Khonshu: You can't take care of her forever, not when she sleeps.
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Imagine Khonshu trying to convince you to be his avatar…
Turning around, you didn’t expect to see the Egyptian god in your apartment, still towering over you.
“I need your help.” He said.
Brows raised instantly. Had you heard that correctly? Khonshu needed your help after the last conversation?
“I choose you to be my avatar.” He declared, voice booming so loudly that it rattled the walls.
You folded your arms and squinted at the deity. “You do remember that I declined this offer the first time around, right?” You wondered.
Khonshu said nothing. His pride was getting in the way of admitting the truth so you ignored his silence.
“If I declined once, I’m going to decline again. Besides, where the hell is Marc anyway? Shouldn’t you be pestering him…?” That’s when it dawned on you. “Unless you can’t.”
Khonshu made no movement. He was terrifyingly still. If you didn’t know he was a speaking deity, you could have confused him for a misplaced statue.
“What have you done?” You asked.
Still unmoving, his voice responded. “Nothing.”
You called bullshit and pointed right at the creature. “Is he dead?”
“Not yet, but the longer you delay will deal his fate.” Khonshu replied.
Somehow, the all powerful god managed to spin this into being dependent on your answer to his question. “How is this on me? You were supposed to protect him.”
“I’ve been imprisoned in stone. How could I have protected anything?”
You scoffed. “Always the victim aren’t you?”
Khonshu straightened up. He didn’t take accusations and insults lightly.
“Need I remind you that you’re in the presence of a god?” He asked proudly, voice rattling the walls again but to rouse fear.
Rolling your eyes, you walked past Khonshu as if he were a mere mortal.
“You’re basically a whisper lost in the wind without an avatar.” Picking up a jacket, you dressed in the garment and sighed. “I’m going to find Marc and Steven.”
When you turned around, Khonshu appeared before you. “Marc is in Egypt. You can only get there in time as my avatar.”
Tilting your head, you squinted back. Khonshu was clearly getting more desperate by the minute.
“…no.” You answered and pulled out your phone. “I have friends in heroic places and what’s even better is that they owe me a few favours.”
~ More imagines here ~
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khonshus-stardust · 5 months
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HEAR ME OUT
It’s just you in your room and Khonshu shows up and pent up and wants to do something now. But is also upset (for whatever reason) so he makes you finger your self on your bed and just watches you while rubbing himself through his lines and talks you through it, then after your first 0rgasm he’s just suddenly right in front of you and begins too overstimulate you by fingering you and degrading you for listening to him so easily and calling you his dirty little bug🫶🤭
Take It
Pairing: Khonshu x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: SMUT, dirty talking, fingering, overstimulating, name calling (dirty little bug, slut, etc.)
Word Count: 2735
Summary: In a fit of rage, the god appears in your room while you're in the middle of reading. Used to this behavior, you don't act different until he orders you to strip. He's tense and needs release.
Author Note: I sent a screenshot of this to my bestie. The two of us were freaking out because this is fucking gold! Thank you for being my first ask on this blog! I'm glad to see you return as well
Masterlist
Ao3
Air swirled harshly around your lax form reading on the bed. After the countless times the god has appeared in your room time and time again, you’ve grown accustomed to this. Your eyes don’t leave the entertaining pages before you.
A cold hand encases your bare ankle and yanked you closer to the foot of your bed. The yelp that left your lips couldn’t be helped. Your eyes snapped to the imposing ancient Egyptian god that stood your room. A glare was easily set on his tattered form. “What is wrong with you?” you snarked before shaking your head. “Don’t answer that. I know: it’s a lot.”
His grasp let go of your ankle. Khonshu, known for being the god of the moon, towered in over your form. Despite having no muscles and only cloth to make up his frame, he held himself tensely. His hands were balled into fists at his sides; shoulders slightly bunched up; and he just stood there, looking at you. As if one more wrong thing could send him into a frenzy.
It was a sight you were familiar with. Dealing with Khonshu was a full-time job that was unpaid.
Despite having a hate-love relationship with the dead bird god, that didn’t stop you from being concerned about him. The book in hand was marked then set to the side, on the nearby nightstand. You go to sit up on your knees when the god finally spoke up.
“Don’t move,” Khonshu barked, body growing even tenser. You turned your head to the side and looked at him suspiciously. The god took a step back and rested a hand on the end board of your bed. The walls of your room not tall enough to allow him full freedom to stand tall.
The metal creaked precariously under his massive, lithe hands. “Strip.” Your head jolted yet your thighs clenched together.
“Excuse me?” you sputtered with your lips parting afterwards. His hand tightened again. Khonshu took a step forward to further crowd into your space. His long beak surging passed any boundaries. The soulless, empty sockets of the skull of his head bore holes into your head.
“I said strip,” he growled, voice ringing in your head. The lump in your throat was hard to swallow. Your tongue darted out and coated your dry lips. “Don’t make me say it again.” Your whole body shuttered.
Timidly, you reached for the hem of your shirt before finding somewhere else to look at. The fabric was pulled over your head and tossed to the side.
Khonshu hummed. “Don’t stop.” Like the good follower of the moon god you are, you listened to his demands. The rest of your clothing is pulled off and thrown off to the side of the bed. He observed the entire time, enjoying the exposed skin you relented to him.
This wasn’t the first time you’ve been naked before the god. Like mentioned before, you had a love-hate relationship with him. Both sides of the coin included letting him use you for his own pleasure. A life you enjoyed with little complaint.
“Scoot back, up against the headboard, little bug,” he ordered and stepped back, hand leaving the end board. Timidly, you followed the instructions and used the pillows as a comfortable rest and barrier from the cool material. Throughout the times you’ve done this with him, you kept your legs closed with anxiety driving you. His never-ending gaze caused your heart to flutter like the wings of a bird.
The god himself sat himself down in the only chair in your bedroom, legs spread wide. His imposing frame purposefully taking in all the space it could.
One of his legs was jutting out while the other was bent at the knee. An elbow was perched on the armrest at an acute angle, wrist hanging loosely. His other arm hung loosely off the other armrest, palm touching his thigh. A relaxed form for the god who looked ready to tear into something less than two minutes ago.
His long beak tilted up and slightly to the side to show off his nonexistent throat. “Look at you,” he mused. If his face wasn’t stagnant, you believed a carefree smirk would be etched into his features. With his arm jutting into the air, he lazily wiggled his pointer finger side to side at you. “Open those legs for me.”
You bite at your bottom lip then let your legs spread open. “A sight for sore eyes,” Khonshu groaned and shifted his hips. You sucked in a quick breath at the sight and had to stop yourself from mewling at the move.
But the god noticed the way your empty pussy clenched and chuckled lowly. His voice continuously swirling inside of your head. “Touch your clit, little one.” This side of Khonshu wasn’t what you were used to but fuck, you felt your body heat up at it.
One of your hands drifted between your spread legs and pressed against your clit. It throbbed against your fingertips. You leaned your head back and started to softly rub circles.
“Did I say move?” Khonshu growled and leaned forward in his seat. You whined and gave the god a frown, hand stilling. “Pout all you want, slut. Only I get to tell you what to do.” The god scoffed and returned his relaxed posture from before.
With that same finger pointing in your general direction, he used two to show a spreading movement. “Spread more. I want to see every little flutter, every little throb.” You huffed but listened to him, letting your legs open further for his gaze.
A cool breeze drifted over your exposed moist labia. You shuttered, thighs tensing. “Poor thing, already getting wet all because of my words. Isn’t that right, little bug?” All you could do was nod softly. He dipped his massive skull. “Now, you may play with your clit. Go slowly, light pressure.”
Now with permission, you started an even pace. Your walls constructed for a moment at the new source of pleasure. You groaned and rested your head back against the headboard. It offered relief to the building lust in the pit of your stomach.
You knew what to do. The movements familiar and memory this long into your life. The way you flicked your wrist into perfect motion, albeit slower than you would like.
More of your arousal began shine in the low light of the room at the beginning of your entrance. “Stop.” In the haze of your pleasure, you didn’t realize he had even said anything to you the first time. “I said stop!” You jolted and removed your hand unwillingly with a mewl. Your clit flutter, demanding for you return to your former movements.
Slightly dazed, you eyed the god still in his chair, position barely even changed. The hand on his thigh had slide up further to rest close to where his thighs meets his waist. “With one finger, push into that tight little cunt,” he instructed.
Happily, you followed through with just your middle finger entering you. The simply yet obscene noise had you whining, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough. The god had ruined you since the first time he drove into you. You looked at him with sweet doe-eyes and silently pleaded for more.
“Hm, look how good you take it,” he groaned. His hand slid up only a couple more inches and cupped a lump under the wrappings that covered his form. It took you longer than you would have admitted to realize he was palming himself. Your walls pulsed around the finger buried into your soaked cunt. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
All you could offer was a mewl. The god tsked. “Use your thumb to rub at your clit and curl your middle finger. Find your g-spot.”
Instantly, you listened, desperate for whatever he allowed. Your finger curled deep inside of you and easily found that spongy spot. A shock of pleasure was sent up your spine to dwell in the pit of stomach. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned and used your thumb to draw tight circles around your engorged clit. It pulsed against your thumbpad.
Your jaw dropped with airily, breathless pants and whines. Clear, stick arousal freely drips from your slightly filled entrance and rolls down the swell of your ass cheeks before soaking into the bedsheets. Your other hand trembled on the mattress, gripping the blankets tightly.
Involuntarily, you couldn’t control your hips squirming, trying to add fuel to the growing embers. “Stay still, don’t move your hips,” Khonshu growled, voice huskier than before. You reopened your eyes and find the god rubbing at his clothed cock. It strained for release. You could imagine the feel of it. The head popping past your labia and stretching your walls to accommodate him all over again. The way the tip slammed against your cervix at each hard thrust, trying to fight every inch inside your smaller body.
The hand on the bed slapped against your mouth, sealing the whimpers beginning to spill freely from your loose lips. You locked your teeth down on a knuckle as the pleasure began to build further in the pits of stomach.
“Let me hear you. Don’t you dare hide anything from me, little bug!” the god snarled and was on the verge of leaping from his seat to tear your hand from your mouth. His free palm slammed against the armrest, balled into a fist. He continued to rub himself harder, using the heel of his hand.
Your unfocused eyes found the empty, dark sockets of his. The knuckle fell away to rest on your thigh. Khonshu growled and grabbed the end of the armrest righter. “Don’t stop. Keep going. Just like that. Look at all that mess. So messy,” he rambled and stayed leaning forward, ready to leap to action.
A strewn of whines and mewl filled the rooms vacant air as you grew closer, velvet walls tightening around your single finger. “Feels-“ he groans “-good doesn’t it?” Your toes begin to curl, legs growing taunt. “I want to see you, watch you come just at the sound of my voice, little one.” You do your best to keep your eyes on the tense god before you. Anything to please him.
“You going to come, sweet little mortal?” his voice echoes inside of your head, bouncing off of the walls. You rapidly nodded your head and couldn’t help but fasten your fingers, needing quicker movements. He doesn’t stop you, watching as your head pitched back with a cry of his name.
The soft, ribbed walls of your pussy constricted around your finger, locking down on the intrusion. They begin to flutter, like bird wings.  You rubbed fiercely at that spongy spot just shy of your entrance, inside of you.
As the crescendo helped drag your mind back to the depths of your body, you felt large, lithe hands wrapped around your wrist. Your digit was pulled free, only connected with a clear strong of your slick for a moment before it was laid to rest at your side. A whine pulled free from your throat, eyes flickering open. You gasped at the imposing form of Khonshu kneeling on the bed, between your spread legs. “Khonshu?” you whispered his name after moments ago screaming it to his fellow gods.
He didn’t answer and cupped your sex, easily dwarfing it in his palm. Still in the downfall of your orgasm, you yelped but jerked your hips up to gain friction. His other hand entered your vision and took hold of your hip, now pinned to the mattress.
Two fingers prodded at your dripping folds before pushing in. Your head smacked against the headboard but the pain was brushed to the side. The digits press against your cervix before they were pulled out enough to touch at your G-spot only an inch or two passed your labia.
Pleasure filled your veins, turning your mind slowly into slush at the sudden stimulation. You were still trying to reel yourself in from the last orgasm. “You’re so wet, little bug. All just from me telling you to fuck yourself with your fingers. Such a dirty little bug listening to their god,” he purred inside of your mind. His voice velvet in the depths of your brain.
The hand that had brought you to your first orgasm shakily wrapped around his thin wrist for support. Khonshu continued to fuck you with two of his fingers, stretching you more than what any of your own digits could. “You take my fingers so well. I’ve ruined you for any mortal. You’re all mine, little mortal. All mine to ruin and dirty.” Your cunt fluttered again. “Such a dirty little bug liking me destroying you.”
You panted and tried to thrust your hips up for more, anything to drag his fingers deeper into you. “Please, Khon. More, more,” you pleaded the god of the moon, eyes hazing over, pupils blown wide. None of the iris able to peek through in the low light.
Khonshu chuckled, vibrating your mind. “Such a slut, begging for more.” This own thumb covered the entirety of your engorged clit and pressed against the sensitive nub. You gasped and shuttered at the tingling feeling overestimating your nerves. Your hand tightened. Khonshu scoffed. “You asked for it. Now, you’re going to take what I give.”
Once more, you clenched down on him. He gave a particular hard thrust of his digits into you g-spot that had trying to lift off of the bed. He just laughed then started to rub circles on clit.
The texture of the cloth that encased his body dragged across the sensitive flesh of your nub. You whined and attempted to pull at his wrist. But the god was situated where he wanted to be.
He continued onward and picked up a pace that had you squirming wildly underneath him. It was to the point he used his own legs to pin down yours to control your lower half. “You’re going to take what I give,” he reiterated.
The overstimulation created arcs of electricity across your skin, making your entire body not only feel alive but on fire. One of your hands clawed and fisted the bedsheets, desperate for purchase the closer you got to exploding.
Your nerves had been burned, filled with too much energy than they could handle. Like the pleasure, you consumed the pain all the same, wanting more. “Dirty little bug, letting a god ruin them, fucking them with his fingers.”
White blinded you as you screamed out a pathetic cry and arched your back. Khonshu did not stop. He used his fingers to draw your orgasm out as long as possible. Your nerves were lit on fire, burning fiercely just under your skin. They were being rubbed raw, bare for him to play with as he pleases. Your screams began to turn into whimpers and mewls. You fell flat back to the bed in heap of mush and ecstasy.
Khonshu finally relented when your body gave its last shuttered. His thin digits were pulled free from the depths of you used cunt. You twitched one more time. He held up his hand and spread his two fingers apart. They were connected at the tips by a clear, sticky string of your slick. “One of these days, I’ll take a mortal form so I can taste your sweet essence,” he muttered more to himself than the room.
Tiredly, you huffed through your nose and looked at him, eyes still dazed over. Khonshu leaned over and cupped your cheek in his clean hand. “You did so well for me, my little dirty bug,” he whispered and pressed the tip of his beak to your forehead. You smiled weakly at him.
“Are you going to tell me what had you in a tissy when you arrived?” you asked him in a soft voice and nuzzled into his palm. The god shook his head.
“Nothing you need to worry that pretty little head over. God issues,” he stated then reached over, pulling a towel hanging from end board of the bed. The god carefully used it to clean off the inside of your thighs and his fingers. He pecked your forehead again. “Till we meet again, my dear mortal.” Then, in rush of wind, the god was gone from sight.
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multific · 2 years
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The Moon to Whom You Belong to
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Khonshu x Reader
Summary: Harrow's hatred towards Khonshu was clear, but to hurt you in order to anger the God was a low blow. 
You saw him everywhere you went.
He stood on top of buildings, watching you.
He knew what he was doing. He was annoying you.
But you were mad at him.
Who could have possibly thought that dating an ancient Egyptian God would be a bad idea?
Not you. Khonsu was truly magical and even if his last avatar, Arthur, didn't see that, in your eyes, Khonshu never changed.
Arthur hated Khonshu and despised him to the point where he wanted to bring Amit back just to get revenge.
Arthur knew you, he often saw you with Khonshu he knew what you meant to the God. And knowing this, Khonshu was afraid Harrow is going to use you to get back on him. 
So, his only logical solution to this problem was to do everything in his power to lock you away. 
He found a new avatar, Marc Spector, but you were not allowed to meet him. Khonshu explained to you just how broken Marc was, but never gave you a real reason why he kept you locked in your home. 
Of course, you knew it had to do with Arthur and his plan of revenge. Arthur was an easy man to read, and you also overheard many times whenever he was talking to himself about how much he hated Khonshu amongst other things.
So, when you told Khonshu that you didn't need to be locked in a dark place just until Harrow is dead, the God took offence. 
He wanted nothing but to protect you, and you knew that, but this was too much.
You decided to go to work, as usual, and carry out your daily things as usual. 
And so, Khonshu followed you, every day he watched you, making sure no one would hurt you. 
Every time you sat on the bus, as you looked out the window, you saw him, standing there, standing or sitting on buildings. 
Just how possessive this bird truly was?
If it was up to him, he would have you in a palace, he often talked about how you need to be treated as a Queen, he would have you wrapped in silks, fed to your liking with no questions asked. He would have you sit on a throne, much like a pharaoh, but he would make sure everyone knew you were more important than anyone else.
And you loved him, you loved even his overprotective and possessive nature. You loved him because he made you feel like no one else ever, he made you feel important, loved and cared for even if he couldn't kiss you, his body language and soft touches proved it all.
You always tried to pay attention, you knew Arthur had many followers. And you were sure you have seen many of them without even knowing.
They could be everywhere, the lady in the store, the new coworker at work, an old coworker at work. Anywhere and anyone could be a follower.
But he didn't have to be so controlling about it. He could have just told you not to go out or just talked with you instead of breaking your door and getting it stuck. He could have sat down and told you to stay safe, you would have called in sick for work. But because of the way he behaved, you behaved just as well.
And here you were now, in the bus stop, waiting while he was watching you from across the street.
"Go home." he would say. But you didn't listen.
And you probably should have.
But he still blamed himself.
You were stubborn as much as he was, but it was still his fault. He didn't protect you, he wasn't there for you.
You had a feeling for a while now that someday something would happen. That one day he will send his people and harm you.
Yet, you weren't prepared.
Khonshu took his eyes off you for a minute. A literal minute and everything went to hell.
You weren't taken, but they sure tried. 
If it wasn't for Khonshu and the quickness of his new avatar, you would have been gone. Khonshu would have burned the entire world down to find you, but he didn't have to. 
Jake Lockley saved you, and you were back with Khonshu, standing on a tall building. He didn't let go of you. Not even for a second.
"This is all my fault." he said as his finger ran over your wrist, you managed to hurt it when you tried to free yourself, you fell and even fractured the bone. "All my fault that My Little Star is hurt." he said, voice full of guilt and pain.
"I am the one to blame. I should have listened to you and stayed home." you knew it was your fault, your fault for being so stubborn.
You tried to prove to him that you could take care of yourself. You grew up just fine, you didn't need his protection. 
But you should have just accepted it, you should have just said thank you and stayed behind. You were weak, and you had to accept that sometimes it was okay to get help from others.
You placed your other hand on his chest and let him pull you close.
"From now on, I will listen to you." you said, promising him to do as he said might not be the best move, but you knew it was the only thing he would accept and calm him.
"Thank you, Stardust. I will also try not to listen that much to my overprotective tendencies. We can find a middle ground I'm sure."
You smiled as he squeezed you against his towering frame.
He used to get smaller when he was with you, still much taller than you but you asked him not to. He didn't need to hide from you.
"I'd like to meet your Knight. I need to thank... them." you looked up at him and he nodded.
"Tomorrow, for now, I need you with me alone. I need your help with a plan. I cannot possibly find what Harrow is looking for, we need to get there before him."
You liked it when he asked your help or opinion on things. But you liked it better that he didn't even let you leave his embrace for the rest of the evening.
You were his Star and he cannot lose you.
He was your Moon to whom you belonged to. Easy as that. 
---
Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
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thepaperpanda · 2 years
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The Loyal Priestess || Khonshu x fem!reader
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Summary: as a newly appointed priestess in Khonshu's temple, you hold a great deal of responsibility. On one night, the God of the Moon decides to visit his followers in response to their profound prayers 
Warnings: smut (deflowering)🔞 & the body of Marc is being taken over and fronted by Khonshu 
Word count: 3575
Author: Cass & Rouge
A/N: the green sentences refer to Khonshu's speaking
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It's an ancient ritual performed mostly by high priestesses because it was a skill that took a lot of practice, but you knew exactly what to do and weren't afraid of doing something wrong. Being a newly marked priestess in Khonshu's temple demanded a great deal of self-assurance, skill, and interior renunciation.
You had the honor of leading the opening prayer to the god himself that evening. "Our Lord, hear us out," you began, head bowed and hands pressed together in front of a massive stone figure depicting Khonshu standing proudly with his staff in his left hand. "We have gathered here to seek your protection, our Lord, and your enlightenment."
Marc could feel cold, unpleasant creeps running down his spine, causing him to shake and hiss visibly. "What the hell was that?" He exclaimed, perplexed as never before.
Of course, Khonshu was there with him, unconcerned by Marc's remark. "My followers are praying to me."
"Followers? Praying? To you? Do you still have them?" Marc inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I do, worm! Who do you think I am?" snarled Khonshu.
"Excellent. I was simply inquiring. There's no need to be so aggressive," Marc sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just hope they're over soon. I don't like the way it feels," the man muttered, uncomfortably rolling his shoulders.
"They will as soon as I acknowledge their presence."
Marc didn't have time to react before the robes encircled him and he swooped up into the night sky, going to the source of chanting. He didn't like what he saw when he landed. This was the temple. The one where he lost his normal life and self.
Candles and incense filled the room with a soft glow and the scent of olive and lilac. Few wicked baskets filled with things like fruits, dates and furs were placed on the stone altar.
Khonshu's followers in the chamber were humming an old melody that matched the words of your fervent prayer. "Our Lord, Master of the Night Sky, please listen to us. Send us your light and wisdom, keep us safe from evildoers. We're offering our modest sacrifices for you, our Lord."
"Modest sacrifices? That sounds intriguing, I'm curious what those are," a loud voice could be heard echoing off the walls. Khonshu entered the chamber in Marc's body, overtaken by the god; Marc's eyes glistened with white light.
All of the followers knelt and bowed their heads to the person who entered the chamber.
You were the only one who raised your head slightly to look the creature in the eyes; eyes gleaming with light that highlighted the god's nature. In the process, you bowed your head and knelt on the sand as well. "My Lord, we are honored that you have chosen to illuminate us with your presence tonight. Long live, Khonshu!"
The greeting was loudly chanted by the rest of the followers.
"Finally, someone who understands how to respect me," Khonshu hummed proudly, smiling at everyone. "However, I think I should punish you all."
Chanting ended as soon as it started; the silence filled the chamber.
You dared to raise your head up, looking at the man with glistening eyes. "Did we do anything wrong, my Lord? If yes, please, say a word and we'll do our best to fix the error."
Khonshu chuckled deeply as he approached you. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "You want to know what your blunder is? Where have you been all these centuries? I can hear every prayer, and it has been quiet for many years."
A cold shiver jolted your body to its core, and you began to wonder if calling Khonsh was a good idea. "My Lord," you said as you looked into his glistening eyes, "We'd been praying to you all the time, on a regular basis. We'd never forgotten you or your deeds, my Lord, and we'd always admired your wisdom."
He squeezed your chin between his fingers. "Human, don't lie to me!" He yelled. "I couldn't hear any of you praying for years! You've dared to arrive at my temple and now you're selling me a lie!"
"My Lord," you said quietly, trying not to aggravate the deity, "How could I lie to you in your temple? I would never do so. Some of your older priestesses have passed away, they were old and died of old age or were killed in the civil war going on," you elaborated. "My Lord, I and those gathered here tonight are from a new generation. Perhaps our prayers were not loud enough for you to hear."
"Maybe they weren't. You will all try to do better from now on," Khonshu demanded. "What about the offerings? I'm interested in what mortals like you brought me."
You waited for him to let go of your chin, and when he did, you went to the altar and pointed to the wicked baskets. "We don't have much to offer you, my Lord, but we'd like to give you our best. Our crops provide the fruits and dates, and our animals provide the furs. We also have the best wine in Egypt, fresh olives, and gold, all for you, our Lord Khonshu."
"That's all?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Some poor fruits and old wine?”
You bowed your head and knelt again. "This is all we have, my Lord. As I said, we can't offer you much more than our faith in you."
"And what do you think I'm going to do with it?" Khonshu inquired, looking at you. "I am the god! Not some pitiful, mortal being like you all or that meat puppet I had to use to see you. I'm not interested in wine or food."
You bowed your head even more, being afraid to look at the god. "Forgive us, my Lord. Please, have mercy!"
"You dare to refer to yourself as my follower? My old priestess, they were the ones who always knew what to offer!" Khonshu yelled angrily, his voice echoing off the walls.
A single tear rolled down your cheek; you were truly terrified with the god being angry with you. "Forgive me, my Lord. What can I do to fix this?"
He gave you a low chuckle as he looked at you. You were a lovely, little thing as for a priestess. He could make good use of his ability to gain complete control over Marc. "I'll tell you what I want as a gift, and you'll grant it to me."
"Of course, my Lord, I'm here to fulfill all of your wishes."
"Clean the altar," Khonshu ordered, waving his hand.
As he wished, you took all the baskets off the altar.
Khonshu turned to face the others. "Tonight, you all let me down. I have nothing else to say to you, worms, no blessings or encouraging words. Leave. Everyone except you," his gaze fixed on you again.
His strong voice echoing off the stone walls made you shiver once more as you watched your fellow citizens get up and leave with bowed heads.
You dared to look at God after everyone else had left the chamber except you. "Your wish, my Lord, is my command."
Khonshu was overjoyed. Finally, someone was listening to him and acting in accordance with his wishes. "I want you as an offering."
You tilted your head and blinked few times. "Excuse me, my Lord? You want me? In what meaning?"
"You good know. You seem like a smart girl."
Your brow furrowed. "Oh, Lord... I think I know what you're thinking about, but I can't give you what you want because I've never done those things before, and I don't want to disappoint you. We have a lot of lovely ladies, just say the word and I'll bring one over."
"I want no one else but you," Khonshu said, gently taking a lock of your hair between his fingers. "You are young and attractive."
"My Lord," you whispered and closed your eyes at the touch of his warm, calloused hand. "I see. Your wish is my command, but I'm scared of letting you down."
"You'll do fantastic, I'm confident you will, little priestess," Khonshu gave you his assurance. "Now. Remove those robes."
You nodded and began taking off your clothes. You began by slipping the sleeves of your long, beige gown, revealing your bare chest and round breasts. Second, you pushed the silky material of the dress down your body, allowing it to fall to your ankles. You stood fully naked in front of the god in human form with hesitation.
One of his hands boldly cupped your breast. "So soft and pleasant," he claimed as his thumb rubbed your nipple, which hardened within the seconds. "My precious, little priestess. Little, innocent thing, you belong to me."
You gasped quietly when his calloused palm cupped your breast, squeezing it. You looked up at the man with your eyes wide open, sighing. "Whatever you order, my Lord. I'm yours."
Khonshu nodded before grabbing one of the furs brought as an offering and tossing it over the stone altar. "Lay down."
You climbed the altar and did as he asked - you laid on your back, rubbing your thighs together, attempting to cover your breasts with your arms crossed lightly across your chest. As you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes, your Y/H/C hair spilled over the fur.
Khonshu smiled and gently kissed your lips before moving the kisses to your neck and then collarbone.
"My Lord," you whispered lightly, your head rolled back a little, providing him with better access. "Can I touch you?"
"You can," he whispered into your ear.
You gasped quietly and put your hands to his arms, your heart beated faster when you sensed his tensed muscles under the shirt he was wearing. Soon, you moved one of your arms around his neck and begged him for another kiss.
"Little priestess, you're so needy. Your desires will be granted tonight," Khonshu hummed and gladly pressed his lips against your cheek, cupping one of your cheeks.
You shifted in his arms, giving the kiss back, letting your tongue slip past his lips, tasting him and imagining all of the things he was about to do to you.
Soon after, he drew back and began undressing himself before joining you on the altar.
You watched his perfectly shaped body, wondering if the man he picked for his avatar was someone random. If yes, Khonshu had a very good taste.
"Do you like what you're seeing, little one? I wouldn't choose a random mortal as my avatar," Khonshu reassured you, just as he would be able to hear your thoughts, and kissed your neck again, this time moving down to your chest and wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples.
You grabbed by the edge of the altar and arched your back a little, moaning at the feeling. With a little, hesitant smile, you nodded your head. "Yes, my Master, I like everything I see," your tone was nothing more than a whisper. "My Lord Khonshu, please."
"Please what? Use your words."
"I want you to..." Your voice cracked as you blushed hardly; realization hit your mind clouded already with overwhelming pleasure. "I want you."
"So now you want me? I was sure you're terrified of this. You're not anymore?" He hummed as he moved his hand down your body.
"I've never been so scared in my life, my Lord, but I trust in you, I trust in everything you do," you assured Khonshu, your cheeks flushed.
Khonshu moved between your legs with a low laugh. He picked your legs up and set them on his shoulders, then began to place kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs.
You moaned quietly, arching your back slightly and sucking your lower lip in. You initially felt compelled to run your hands through his hair, but quickly dismissed the thought as too daring. His lips on your thighs felt like a blazing fire, and you couldn't stop being vocal about how good he made you feel. "Please, My Lord, I need to feel you," you pleaded quietly.
He decided to grant your wish and gently sucked his lips around your clit, observing your reaction carefully.
Your back arched even more as a loud moan escaped your lips. Your hands slid down instinctively to meet his palms on your hips; you placed your hands on top of his rough ones. "I've never felt anything like it..."
His fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing your hand. Khonshu didn't respond to your words, but he continued to eat you like a starving man.
Your moans became louder; you barely could bear the tight knot forming in your abdomen. "Khonshu, my Lord, please, I want more!" You begged, holding stronger onto his palms.
"Is that so, my little priestess? And what do you want?"
You bit your lip. "I want to do this, but I've never... You'll have to guide me, my Lord."
"Do what? Use your words or I won't please you," Khonshu continued the teasing.
You propped yourself on elbows and looked at him; he looked perfectly sweet with his head between your thighs. "I want you to take me, my Lord."
He got off the altar and began to completely undress himself, tossing the pants and Marc's boxers to the side. Then he returned to you and wrapped your legs around his waist tightly.
Of course, you watched him with your heart beating fast and strong within your chest, like a tiny animal trapped in a cage trying to escape danger. When he removed his boxer shorts, his already rock-hard cock sprung free and stood proudly against his abdomen, making you blush and gasp. You did just what he expected you to do. With a moan, you pulled him into a kiss. "My Lord..." You whispered. "I'm all yours."
"Of course you are. You're my sweet, little priestess," Khonshu agreed, gently pushing inside of you so as not to injure you too much with his force.
You rolled your eyes back and let out a quiet scream mixed with a moan, your eyes close shut and you hissed at the sudden feeling of being stretched out painfully. "Ah!"
Khonshu smiled wryly as he observed your body's reaction to him. Your little whimpers and arched back were adorable. He'll definitely miss it once Marc is back in charge.
You wrapped your palm around one of his hands placed by either of your sides, then looked up at him, right into his eyes. "It.... hurts and stings..."
His palm moved over your belly and lover. "Hush. Just breathe, relax."
You followed God's instructions and went a little quiet. It didn't last long though - the pleasure and knot developing in your abdomen were impossible to ignore, igniting the lust in your soul. Your palm squeezed his hand, and other one wrapped around his neck as he kept on thrusting into you. Soon, you were moaning for him like all those whores you've heard about from your friends visiting public houses.
"You're a good girl. My dear priestess. You will be the only person to ever experience this," Khonshu murmured as he began to move his hips carefully while still stroking your belly with his calloused palm.
You looked at his face; the man whose body the god was using was dangerously handsome, with dark, brown eyes and fluffy, dark hair. "Kiss me," you whispered.
He couldn't say no to you, so he pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans as he quickened his pace.
With a loud moan and overwhelming dizziness, you rolled head back when the kiss broke and let him fuck you the way he wanted. You wrapped your legs around his waist to guide him deeper into your dripping cunt.
He continued to fuck you hard and deep, kissing you on the neck. "My tiny priestess. You're taking good care of your god."
Holding tightly onto his neck, you moaned loudly. "Can we, ah! Try some else? I want to be on top."
Khonshu chuckled proudly before flipping you both over so you were on top of him. His hands were pressed against your hips, squeezing the tender flesh.
You began rolling your hips, smacking them back and forth, resting both hands against his broad chest, quietly moaning whenever his cock hit the right spot within you. "It feels divine, so good."
"Good. Excellent work. Please me, little priestess," Khonshu praised you, moving his body slightly to match your movements.
You increased your movements, moaning louder and louder. After leaning forward, you placed your palm to one of his cheeks and kissed him deeply, your tongues dancing together in a slow, passionate dance. "I feel so full, it's unbelievable."
"This is insignificant. I will continue to fill you up, little human. You'll be so full of me that you'll never forget how it feels," Khonshu assuredly moved his hand to your clitoral region. He began to play with your bundle of nerves, watching your reaction.
Your curses filled the chamber; your head rolled back and your pace quickened. His clit teasing didn't help at all, it only heightened the sensation. With a loud scream, the knot in your abdomen ruptured, and incredible wetness floated down, coating his member still buried within your tight cunt. "Oh, fuck!"
Khonshu continued to praise you while thrusting into you in order to quickly fill your nice, tight cunt with his hot load. He used all of his strength to flip the two of you again, to pick up the pace even more, chasing his own release; he hadn't felt so needy and desperate in centuries. When your pussy was still clenching around his shaft rhythmically, his cock throbbed painfully, triggering his orgasm, and he spilled all of his warm seed deep into you with nothing but a curse rolling off his parted lips. ”Fuck. Fantastic. My precious, little priestess. You made your god happy."
You tried to raise your body to kiss him once again. The wetness in you was unbearable and you didn't really want to move to not get rid of the pleasant feeling of warmth and thickness.
While returning the kiss, he almost purred into it. His arm wrapped around your waist with a soft hum, his hand gently tucking some of your hair behind your ear, and he grabbed your chin to take one more good look at you. "You're a lovely, little thing. Even though it was your first time, you did not let me down."
"Did I do well, my Lord?" You asked in a soft tone, putting your head to his chest; his cock still buried in you. "You've made me the happiest person alive, my Lord. I'm grateful and I will never forget it. Can I just have one question?"
"What is it, my beautiful?”
"Can you take me with you? I will give my life to serve you in the afterlife."
"This isn't going to happen," he said simply, playing with your hair. "There are some things I need to take care of myself. Besides, I require the presence of my priestess here."
"My Lord, will I ever see you again then? Or was I daydreaming?"
"If you serve me well, priestess, I will visit you again, and you weren't daydreaming, I assure," Khonshu said as he kissed your cheek. "You are mine now."
"I've been yours since the day I was born, my Lord," you shivered, grumping quietly at the emptiness as he pulled his dick out. As quickly as possible, you put your robes on, gaze lowered to not bother Khonshu.
Khonshu slowly sat up and began gathering his belongings in preparation for dressing up. "Are there any more requests, little one?"
"How could I request anything from you, my Lord? Your wisdom and presence is the best thing that happened to me, my Lord Khonshu. I, your faithful priestess, will preach your word even harder."
"And this shall grant you my visit again," Khonshu's laughter spilled all over the chamber.
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Marc awoke in his bed, perplexed as he had never been before. He was uneasy and felt bad in general.
He remembered going to see Khonshu's followers, but there was a gap in his memory. "Khonshu! What the fuck?! How come I can't remember anything!"
The god appeared, sitting on the bed, holding the staff. "We came across my followers, led by a dedicated, young priestess. What did you expect?"
"That I will remember a fucking thing!" Marc growled loudly.
"We took part in a little ritual. Don't bother yourself with that. Did you rest?"
"I guess," Spector muttered, rubbing his forehead. ”Shall I be worried?"
"Why?"
"I have no recollection of anything. Who knows what you did while in control of my body."
"Who do you take me for, Marc? Have you forgotten? Your body is mine, you agreed to that on your own."
"Still, you took control of my body and played with it like a puppet," Marc shrugged and flopped back onto the bed, slipping hands under his head.
"As I said, your body belongs to me. And if you only saw her," Khonshu said quietly to himself. "We'll get back there eventually. To keep my followers focused, I must remind them from time to time who they worship."
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673 notes · View notes
refiwrites · 2 years
Text
Worried Bird
Pairing: Khonshu x GN! Reader
Requested?: Yes
Summary: Coming home after another mission, Khonshu appears and couldn’t help but worry for you. 
WC: 1.5k
Warning/s: swearing, mentions of injury, blood, cuts, bruises, drugs, lmk if I missed anything!
Note: tbh this looked like it turned out to be a crack!fic but I like it 😭 anything for my bird man 💪
GIF is mine!
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It seemed that every muscle in your body ached, not leaving a single part untouched. You swore earlier that you hadn’t felt a single thing, maybe it was because of the adrenaline rush, and now it has come to bite you on the ass.
Steven looked at you with a sympathetic look as he unlocked the door to your shared apartment.
It had been this way since Marc knew that you were the only person he could trust with these powers of his, and soon enough Steve had agreed on letting you live with him.
Trusting you became easier for Steven when he had the chance to know you, and not to mention how a hell of a good fighter you were too, even without the aid of an Egyptian God or Goddess.
You’ve known Marc’s secret for a very long time, you were the first person he looked for after a few years of no contact since he had been Khonshu’s avatar.
At first you wanted to think he was out of his mind, but once you saw the suit magically wrap around his form as his eyes glowed bright, you definitely started to think of things you still hadn’t known in this world after all your years of living.
It took a while for you to get used to this setup, getting to know Steven wasn’t all that bad either, and if you were being honest, you’d often prefer Steven as Marc always had difficulty in expressing himself, which often led to disagreements and such.
But what you didn’t know was, this setup also involved a very, very huge bird.
You could remember how your throat ached after suddenly screaming out loud the first time you saw it or... Him... Or Khonshu.
That took you by surprise and confusion, and it seemed like Marc did too, how on earth are you seeing him if you weren’t an avatar of his?
Steven being Steven, he of course came up with theories which you were happy to listen to, but it was hard, why? Because he once woke you up at 2AM in the morning saying that maybe you were some kind of magical being in your past life that led you to see Khonshu.
Speaking of Khonshu, whenever Marc or Steven wasn’t around, you’d often spot him in the apartment, or like that one time you wanted to just look out the window to admire the streets when suddenly there he was, perched upon the roof of the building in front of you.
And oh boy, not to mention the first time you spoke to each other, featuring Marc.
“Marc what the hell is this thing doing in our apartment?!” You shouted, bracing yourself against the wall as your eyes scanned for things that would become useful as a weapon to defend yourself.
“What the fuck are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Marc said with his furrowed eyebrows, standing there as if there wasn’t a bird who had a figure of a human being holding a staff a few inches from his side.
“That! That thing!”
“Marc, for the love of all that is just, would you do me a favor and silence this being?” Its deep voice spoke, yet its mouth didn’t open, probably because its head was in the form of a bird’s skull.
“Silence? Oh I’d like to see you try!” You replied.
Marc was about to open his mouth when he closed it. He looked at Khonshu before looking at you.
“Don’t tell me,” Marc said, raising a finger and pointing it at you, before slowly moving it to point towards the huge bird in the room. “You could see him..and hear him?!”
“What, am I not supposed to? Did you give me drugs or something, Spector?!”
“No! No,” Marc suddenly said, amused as he let out a dry chuckle. “Holy shit...”
“Don’t holy shit my ass Spector what the fuck is this?!”
“Calm down- no- put that lamp down I'm not going to another furniture store to argue with Steven on which lamp looks better.” Marc sighed in annoyance as you gripped the lamp.
“This little human amuses me, tell me why did I choose you again, Marc? When they existed?”
“Shut up Khonshu, they’re out of our deal.”
Your eyes flickered between them alternatively, before you open your mouth to exclaim, “That’s Khonshu?!”
Certainly having come a long way after making that one of a kind first impression, you’ve grown used to him and it looked like he felt the same as well.
But now heading back to the current scenario, you plopped over to the couch with a hiss, knowing that the bruises were already forming on your body. Being thrown around wasn’t exactly a joy to experience.
Not to mention the cuts that manage to scrape your skin, it would be an ass to disinfect later.
“I’m sorry, love, what would you like me to do? I’ve prepared the first aid kit in the bathroom, no need to worry about the mess, I could clean it up if you’d like... Though honestly speaking blood makes me a little bit squeamish…” Steven rambled, lucky for him he looked good as new thanks to his healing powers.
“Y-yeah no need to worry about me, I’ll get there in a sec, just- everything feels like shit right now.” You dryly chuckle. Steven just nodded, additionally preparing fresh clothes for you to wear after.
“Marc, I thought you’d make less mess this time—”
You knew that voice all too well. And voilà.
A whip of dust and darkness seeped through the window, you were thankful for the high ceiling the apartment provided, or else you’d have random holes on the roof.
You watched through squinted eyes how Khonshu materialized a few feet away from you.
“Oh, Marc.” Steven spoke, raising a finger to leave a slight pause in the conversation as he let Marc take the reigns for now.
The features of Steven disappeared and now came in Marc’s hard stare.
“What do you expect? It was hard enough convincing them without things getting bloody.” He said, but then his eyes caught yours.
“You definitely handled worse, look at you.” Marc said. “Fuck off, Spector.” You said.
Khonshu had not sensed your presence in the room, but now he did as he slowly turned to spot you, looking all battered and bruised on the couch.
You could feel his energy change as he took slow steps towards you.
“Haven’t I told you to be careful now?” Khonshu’s voice spoke as Marc watched the interaction between the two of you. It was still unreal to him, really, but then again he’s reminded of all the things he’d been through, your growing closeness with Khonshu pales in comparison to them all.
“Yeah, you did. Look, Marc and I got separated, found myself in the room full of their goons, and well- you know the rest.” You sigh, stomach feeling heavy because of the sore muscles.
Khonshu looks at you. “Then I hope you could tell me why aren’t you patching yourself up?”
You chuckle, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, breathing in had never felt so difficult, but still, you manage to crack a sarcastic comment.
“No, actually I was planning on watching my favorite show, can’t miss it now even when I’m beaten up, right?”
You slightly let one eye open to see Khonshu’s grip on his staff tighten in mere annoyance. He glanced back at Marc only for Marc to look at him and shrug.
Then you felt the sudden strong wind in your apartment and the thud of his staff on the ground, you could hear a few papers rustling and Marc’s comment. “Come on, you know Steven won’t be happy about that, Khonshu.”
You could feel the cool air hit your face as you sigh. “Alright, alright I’m getting up.”
Propping your hand against the couch, you stood up, but a shooting pain in your foot sends you stumbling forward.
You were ready for your face to plummet the floor but it never came. Instead, your hand was placed upon what felt like a cloth. You tried moving back up, but a rather huge arm wrapped around your back prevented you from doing so.
That’s weird you thought.
You let your eyes open and to another surprise of yours, there was Khonshu, staring down at you.
Your eyes widened as you looked at how he protectively caged with one arm from falling onto the hardwood floor.
Marc also rushed to your side for some aid but once he saw how Khonshu was able to catch you faster than he could, it left him surprised. “Look at you, Khonshu, why have you never done that for me?”
Khonshu huffed at him “Idiot, I did not make you my avatar for me to catch you like a damsel in distress.”
Marc raised his hands and shrugged. “Point taken.”
“Khonshu, you can let me go now.” You finally spoke.
“Then you’d fall.”
“No, I won’t. I’ve had much worse, this is just probably a sprained ankle.”
Khonshu reluctantly let you go, but still offering a hand for you to take. You internally smiled at the gesture, deciding to take it as he guided you to the bathroom to patch yourself up.
Once you were sat on the closed toilet, you sigh, beginning to prepare the disinfectant and the gauze wraps and bandages.
“Thank you, Khonshu.” You looked at him.
“Anytime, worm.”
“Hey!”
752 notes · View notes
foli-vora · 2 years
Text
talking shadows
khonshu x f!reader, unnamed m!character x f!reader
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a/n: yep. won't feel shame for this one lmao. i lost my tag list for this so i'm sorry about that! enjoy x
word count: 1.6k
warnings: swearing, smuttt 18+ only. voyeurism/exhibitionism, fingering, protected p in v, bit of degradation, smidgen of praise, orgasm denial, i just want to be called 'little one' by a moon god ok????
lovingly dedicated to my partner in birdman lust @wheresarizona
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It’s often that you find yourself bathed in moonlight, kissed by its soft familiar presence hanging amongst the stars. The cover of night and the beauty of the moon provided solace, peace… but what once provided comfort for you and your tangled mind, now felt tainted, stolen.
It’s often that you find yourself bathed in moonlight, though it’s now a rare occurrence to do so without the tiresome presence now seemingly tangled permanently into your existence.
Well, permanently until he deemed you no longer worthy of his so-called ‘gift’. Used; eaten and spat out like an off meal, and you were meant to feel grateful for it, thankful—thankful that he chose you out of an ocean of other bland human beings for the job of delivering justice by his fist and protecting those ‘travelling in the night’.
Fuck him.
No.
Not tonight. Tonight was yours, his justice be damned.
Your thoughts of him falter when lips press messily against your throat, the blunt edge of teeth nipping softly at your flesh until the skin feels raw. It’s a nice enough distraction from the usual blood and violence of your nights. It’s just enough to calm the edge of anxiety stewing in the back of your mind.
“You look bored, little one.”
Ignore him. Ignore him.
His low chuckle fills the darkened room and it sends a rush of bitterness through you, your mood darkening at the sudden appearance of him. Why now?
Your eyes open, automatically drawn to the shadow lounged comfortably in the armchair in the corner, one long leg thrown over the arm and the other stretched out in front of him. Make yourself at home, asshole.
The familiar skull tilts towards you in vague interest, wrapped fingers drumming a rhythm against the fabric of the seat only you could hear.
“The primitive urges of humans never fails to amuse me. Look at you. Are you always this desperate?”
Hot fury builds in your chest and you bite back your retort, curling into the hands that tug your shirt up and off your body. Chapped lips press against the new skin revealed, hands brushing along the band of your bra until his fingers meet the clasp. With the twist of his fingers it comes free and you shrug it from your body with a twist of hope that your unashamed nudity will send the god off to wherever he usually disappears to.
It quickly dies when the god remains in the chair, his attention on you and completely unbothered as the chill from the open window hardens your nipples. Your body wants to shy away, to curl in and hide from the attention so focused on you from across the room, but you don’t.
Some shameful, deeply buried part of you screams it—let him watch, let him see you.
Your jeans are torn away, your underwear quickly following as they land in a quiet heap on the floor, mixing with the clothes he sheds and throws away. The heat of his skin melts into yours, feeling like fire through the chill settling in the room and still—your audience watches with a barely there tilt of his skull.
The hands that roam your body are eager, rushed, and your whimper echoes softly through the room when fingers smooth along your slit, gathering the build up of arousal and smoothing it over you before dipping softly into your cunt once, twice, and soon a second digit joins it, leisurely thrusting and stretching your pussy.
“You like that, baby? Does that feel good?”
“No, it doesn’t.” The god states it confidently with a tinge of amusement, almost taunting in the way he tempts you to argue with him, daring you to speak up and tell him he’s wrong. 
You rock against the fingers moving in and out of you, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks as your brows deepen to concentrate on the feeling, desperate to prove him wrong. He is wrong. This is fine. 
“The human knows nothing. Tell him how you really like it.”
Fuck. Ignore him.
He chuckles, the breeze carrying it to your ears as the moon shines in through the window and it sinks through your system, settling low and heavy in your gut. 
Unable to focus on the fingers thrusting mercilessly in and out of you, your hands fly to push the hand away and force him onto his back, quickly swinging your leg over his hips and settling over his thighs. It barely takes a minute to tear through the small foil packet and roll the condom over his cock before you shift and sink down on it, his low drawn out groan filling the room.
It takes a moment for you to adjust to the feel of him filling you, not exactly ready with the limited foreplay you received, but you push through the slight discomfort, giving a slow experimental grind of your hips and relishing in the way his cock drags along the walls of your cunt before finding a comfortable pace.
“Come now, little one. This is pitiful. Show me what you can do, unless this is all you have to offer.”
It’s the condescending note in his words that seem to hit you the hardest. You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but the harsh words melt away on your tongue.
With a thrill shooting along your spine, you realise you like it, and resentment buds in your core. You hate that it lights a fire in you, hidden in the dark depths of your being—the rise to meet a challenge, the will to prove yourself, to impress.
He wants a show? Fine. You’ll give him one.
And so you start to move in earnest, bouncing faster and slamming yourself back down against the hips beneath you, the thick cock sliding against your walls nudging that sweet spot just fucking right with every heavy drop of your ass.
The lewd slap of flesh fills the room, mixing with the soft noises falling from your throat and your hand curls around one of your tits, squeezing the soft flesh and tugging harshly at a nipple.
The sharp jolt of pain shoots through you and you moan louder, repeating the motion and bathing in the sting.
“That’s it,” the deep rumble brings goosebumps along your skin as you move, your cunt clenching from the familiar timbre of it, “pay him no mind. Take what you need.”
Your fingers find your clit easily as you fuck yourself on the cock filling you, the rough pads circling firmly over the stiffened nub in desperate need to build upon the heat already churning in the depths of you.
You feel the tightening in your core build with every quick flick of your fingers over your clit, the whisper of shame creeping along your shoulders at your predicament. It’s easy enough to ignore with the haze filling your mind, the overwhelming flood of heat winding along your nerves until it rests heavy at the base of your spine.
So close. So fucking close.
It’s there—you can practically taste it, your body tensing and writhing and hungry for the flood of bliss—
“No.”
It’s both maddening and interesting with how quickly your body responds to the god’s simple word, despite your brain screaming at you to ignore him.
Your orgasm holds at his demand, keeping your body wound and tight until sweat starts to slide down your temple, your fingers still circling, circling, in search of that blissful end.
But it’s right there. Ignore him.  Just a little more—
“You think you own this body?”
Your jaw tightens but you make no comment. A part of you wants to fight it, to say that your body is your own and he can just fucking deal with it. Your body will never be his. It will never—
“Make no mistake, little one. This body is mine.”
You feel it in the way your body reacts to his words, submissive and obedient, waiting for his simple command to jump from the ledge you keep yourself dancing so precariously along.
Surely just another circle of your fingers will be enough to push past the limit; more pressure, something—
No. Your climax holds, and your clit throbs, aching painfully from the constant stimulation. It wouldn’t happen without his say so, and somewhere deep in you relishes in your firm obedience. Would he be pleased? You hate how you arch at the possibility, dizzy with the need to hear even a mere few words of praise come from the god. 
“Please—”
He hums, low and long. You feel him move, the cool air of the room shifting. The weight of his stare rests heavily along your nerves and you swear you feel the scrape of something sharp, pointed, run along your shoulder, igniting fire beneath your skin where it trails before he answers your plea with a single word—
“Now.”
It hits with a flash of blinding light, stars dancing behind your lids as your body crashes in on itself, the choked moan from the man below you barely cutting through the roar of blood through your ears as your cunt tenses and flutters with the strength of your climax.
You jolt with each further brush over your sensitive clit, your fingers wringing the last licks of pleasure from your core before it becomes too much for you to handle.
Your chest heaves with each quick, sharp inhale; the heavy thud of your heart hammering against your ribcage as the presence lingering over you swells, the feel of what you’re sure is the point of his beak disappearing from where it had been ghosting along your skin.
“You did well, little one.”
He’s gone when you open your eyes.
-
259 notes · View notes
endofthelinegang · 2 years
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𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 - 𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐮
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ khonshu x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ khonshu remembers what it was like to be happy
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ angst, fluff
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you have all begged and pleaded with me to write for the bird, here is the first of many and NO ONE BETTER YELL AT ME. (3.2k words) yeah get your readers out this is long as hell
song: i see the moon by nancy sinatra
I see the moon
Burying bodies and burying memories are a lot alike. Both take so long, are such a mess, and can cause such a stir. Do you know what doesn’t do these things? Causing a massacre, leaving, and calling it vengeance. Especially when you have control over someone else, watching them commit heinous acts in your honor as you sit above them wishing you could do that to those who hurt you. Which might it be known that it’s easier to do all of that then remember that what you lost still exists and the chances of you getting those things again are slim to none. Layers of pain, so easily masked (literally and metaphorically). 
It’s beautiful nights like these that Khonshu wonders what you see when you look to the moon, do you see who he was? What the two of you had? Or the alternative. Are you haunted by what he looked like right before he was banished? Are you scarred by what you had heard he had done to get him in that position? He wasn’t able to talk to you or do anything towards you past that point. All he could do was look to the sky at the very same planet that sat on the top of his staff just wondering, remembering. 
The moon sees me
“I’ve never seen someone look so beautiful and uncomfortable at the same time.” You lurched forward with a small movement at the sound of a voice coming from behind you. You had been standing idle watching as a sunrise festival carried on. 
“I’ve never even seen you.” He had taken notice of the fact that even though you lacked the ability to breathe properly throughout the duration of the gathering you had fully stopped the moment he spoke and only did you breathe again once you had spoken. But nevertheless you had looked over your shoulder momentarily to see who it was then faced forward once more.
“Yes, well, you do not visit the cosmos or where the universal grimoire is stored.” You hadn’t noticed how much taller he was than you when you smiled at his comment, that he could simply turn his head to the side and see your expression. 
“My apologies, I’ve been a bit busy fighting others battles, I was also unaware there was even a way I could go through the cosmos or that there was a reason for me to go to the place of the grimoire.” Taking a small step forward he was standing to where half of his body was directly behind you. 
“Do you wish to only know what you already know for the rest of eternity? You have no interest in the vast and alluring universe?” You may have just met but he was certainly good at getting and keeping your attention. In fact he was so good at it you turned around to face him, more like look up at him but regardless your back was no longer turned. 
“The opportunity to explore any interest in that realm has never presented itself.” If this turned into any more of a challenge you would be circling each other. 
“Then what do you call this?” He tilted his head ever so slightly and looked down at you more. 
“I’m not sure what to call you, I have yet to hear a name.” You may have been raised in the same place, taught the same way until given a gift or task, but you couldn’t name him even if you tried. The best hint you had was his ensemble, how it was covered in moons. 
“Khonshu.” Instead of putting his hand out to shake yours he picked yours up from your side, and examined it, letting the skin on the inside of your fingers rest on top of his palm. 
“Y/n.” Yet again air had left you, you were frozen, you hand limp on top of his. 
“I apologize for leaving just as soon as I appeared, but my time seems to be arriving,” He looked towards the sky where the sun was moving upward to light the sky, but to the human world it was setting. Which meant he had to attend to his godly duties, “Before I go I’d like you to keep this,” turning your palm over he sat a rock in the middle of your hand, “if you ever want to see what the night sky truly shines like speak to this, I’ll hear you.” 
“You want me to talk to a rock?” You snickered a little bit as you let your fingertips graze over the rocks edges, hand still placed above his. 
“A piece of the moon, the place that I should be right now.” Khonshu closed your fist for you, allowing you to keep a hold of the rock without his larger hand having to catch it if it dropped. 
“Thank you for the moon.” You smiled at him before nodding to him and walking away quite quickly. Not because the interaction had made you uncomfortable, but because something about it had you giddy, almost too happy. 
Dance through the leaves; Of the old oak tree
“Khonshu? Are you there?” Swift moments were all that two of you had shared, though you had enough of them that if you added them together it would be months. Sitting in a tree on Earth hiding from the sun you talked to the rock on your finger that was wrapped in silver. 
“What’s troubling you?” Had he not caught the guard of your sword in his wrapped hand he would’ve been in a lot of pain seeing as to how you did not expect him to just pop up. 
“I guess I was sick of seeing the moon the same way over and over again, plus I think I have the right to visit the planet that I’m constantly helping keep safe.” Through the last sentence it sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of what you were saying. Pulling your blade back you slid it back into the scabbard it came from. 
“Hm, well, sadly the humans cannot see you, me, or any of the work any of us do for them,” Khonshu looked at the staff in his hand, twirling it a bit thinking some to himself, “they do get quite a view of the sky from this angle.” He turned the conversation back to the night sky. 
“They really are the lucky ones, the moon really does shine here.” Rather than looking at the sky you were facing him, as the moonlight did in fact shine across his face, across yours, casting shadows of the branches onto the tree. 
“Is this your way of telling me that it does not shine well enough for my equals?” The head of the bird-like headpiece that sat on top of his head sparkled a bit as he turned completely towards you. 
“Well, if you want me to be honest, it’s more like in our sky the moon shines like the sun, just casting a really bright light. Here the moon shines in a glow, it’s a different kind of beautiful.” You were still looking at him, in fact you hadn’t faced the moon since he had appeared next to you. 
“I am not the moon.” Khonshu had made that clever comment in reference to the eye contact you had yet to break. 
“Oh but you are,” you were more than happy to defend your position, “You are bright, calming, ethereal. You hum when you read, you wander through spaces you have seen a hundred times for hours as if it’s the first time you’d seen it, you get all dressed up but the moment you are in another space you get into more comfortable attire, and you throw moon rocks from yourself onto other planets so that others can have the moon with them when they find it. You are the most important part of the moon, you are the magic.” There was a passion in your words that struck him like an asteroid, the way each syllable fell with a knowingness of meaning. 
“Do you want to know how I do it?” He spoke unusually quiet as you nodded, smiling at him, “To create beautiful things you must first find something beautiful. Then you must study that thing and make sure that you are doing everything in your power to grasp that beauty. Lastly you keep the feeling that you have everytime you look at that beautiful thing and project it outward.” 
“The moon is a fantastic muse I’m sure.” You smiled at his long drawn out analogy of how he created the magic to make the moon shine. 
“The moon is captivatingly divine because you are.” Khonshu gestured his staff towards the planet in the sky next to both of you that had seemed to grow closer the longer you sat together, “You talk to plants, planets, and other non verbal but living objects as if you can hear them and they you. You laugh no matter how many times you hear the same story or joke. You leave little scribed messages of good fortune and gratitude to those who you deem your love to. You are always where someone needs you to be and you never ignore those around you. You are light, you are a semicolon, you are hope.” 
“I love you.” There were no other words, thank you did not amount to the feelings you felt in that moment. Nodding and smiling was not nearly good enough to respond to such a speech, such a confession of many feelings. 
“I love you to the moon and back.” Khonshu had you smiling, laughing, face turned to the moon. 
Please let the light; That shines on me
That phrase, “I love you to the moon and back,” he had said it just for you. He had given it to the humans to say to one another in hopes that one day you would hear that and remember that night. But as time passed hearing the humans profess their love the way he had made him want to rip that phrase from the entire planet. To rip love itself off the face of the Earth. He couldn’t do it, that wasn’t in his power but by the gods he wished it was. 
The moonlight casted itself down onto Khonshu, following him the way it always had, but he even convinced himself that the moon that once traveled with him like a spotlight was now more like a way to just see shadows. There was nothing he hated more, he was bitter, so was the moon. Shadows of memories, of words. 
“This is perfect.” You sat on a ledge leaning your body weight into his with the night sky so close that if you reached forward you could touch it. 
“Of course it is, it’s what you wanted.” He implied that it was only that way because of you, that the night had gone in such a perfect line because it was what you wished. 
“Is this what you thought this little rock would turn into?” You flexed the knuckles of your left hand that he held in his right. 
“Yes, if not this then what? Did you think I had ill intentions when I approached you the first time? You know better than most that the gods' only intentions with one another are to have each other's hands to continue the perfect pyramid of life.” He was speaking quickly and poking fun at the true fact of the mess that was marriage in the godly world. 
“Ill intentions? No. Strange intentions? Yes. I did not expect matrimony from a rock, I honestly expected to be tracked, that maybe I had made a dire mistake during one of my nightly hideaways that would lead to my demise.” You spoke dramatically as you picked your feet from out under yourself and stood on the ledge. 
“Ready to jump already? It’s only been an hour of marriage, though we have lasted longer than the average span.” He was joking with you as he kept a tight grip on your hand. 
“Anpu and Bata?” You joked rolling your eyes back into your head and falling into his lap backwards, almost like a trust fall. 
“We might make messes but we are most certainly not that messy.” Khonshu let himself laugh and held you close to his chest. 
Shine on the one I love
“Are you sure the humans won’t see us? Or that they won’t be the least bit suspicious of the weather?” You laughed as Khonshu pulled you through a thicket into a broken stone pavement where the pebbles in each crevice made a pattern on the ground. 
The rain soaked your skin as you looked up at the cloudy sky above, then to your husband who was more than dead set on doing this little escapade rather than his job. 
“They’ll just do what we’re doing, they love phenomenons they can document.” He was adminet on this even though it would most likely get him in some kind of trouble.  He was getting awfully risky with what he was willing to do. A freeness cascaded through him more frequently than not.
“Khonshu.” Nothing but his name left your lips as the clouds parted to show a blood red moon, a beautiful and full red moon that made the falling rain look like a beautiful sunset coming down onto the planet. Any existing shadow shone almost perfectly black as if it stood on its own, as if they were tangible. 
Both of you heard humans running around, talking, dancing, cheering, and acting like whatever they were seeing was a miracle of sorts. The sound of distant music encouraged the two of you to dance, he never liked dancing or anything that was overly creative in nature. But he would’ve done anything to never let that dance end. The most perfect moment of all, he spun you out of his arms and all of a sudden everything around him that wasn’t you was static. The way the rain drops stuck to your hair and still shone the sunset glow, your eyes lit up in a light orange, your jawline visibly sculpted with your head tipped to the sky, and the way you gripped his hand so gently, your ring pressed against the bend in his hand. 
“Humans will be so lucky one day.” Khonshu whispered as he held you close to his body.
“Why’s that?” You knew he was going to go on one of his lavishly loving speeches.
“You will be documented through someone else, but I will make sure their depiction of you is absolutely perfect, even if I have to do it myself.” He could hear your quiet chuckle muffled by his own body. 
“I love you.” Another whisper from your throat made its way to his ear. 
Over the mountain
“I fear for you.” You were thought to had been asleep as Khonshu sat on the edge of the bed looking at you as he needed the peace. 
“There is nothing to fear, not of this world, not of any world, not of me.” He put what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your bare calf. 
“I can feel them getting tighter.” You felt the bandages he was wrapped in as of his last punishment tight around his now freezing cold skin. 
“You are just worried, they feel no tighter to me.” He lied so quickly it was like he had a silver tongue knowing that if he agreed with you that you may never quit worrying. You hadn’t yet opened your eyes to even look at him, you knew he was tired of being caged from his opinions and actions that he believed were completely correct. 
“What happens when nothing is left of you? When they’ve turned you all to bone?” Your voice almost cracked at the thought of them taking someone you loved so dearly and turning him into a walking corpse, let alone a walking skeleton. 
“Don’t let your mind climb mountains that are barely in sight.” Khonshu knew you were right, but he also knew how you hated when he held his tongue, or when he was dishonest in any manner. You had always told him to live his truth no matter what that may be, and to be convincing while doing such. 
“I hope those mountains stay distant, because if they get any closer I’ll only be able to look over them at you, you wouldn’t let me jump off with you.” 
“If that’s my fate, then you cannot suffer it with me.” He sighed pulling you down to where he sat on the bed picking you up and moving you around like you were a doll just to hold you  close. Maybe he thought that showing you his physical strength would convince you that he was going to be okay, that nothing was going to happen. 
Over the sea
“Do you truly believe this is worth it or are you just angry with your fellow council?” You held his upper arms in your hands as best as you could manage. He looked so panicked, sick almost, like something had happened. The crescent shaped moon on his forehead was looking less like a mark of a visible gift and more of bone. 
“I love you.” He bowed his head down and grabbed your face in his hands before kissing your forehead. Khonshu knew that was going to be the last time he would be able to feel you like this. He was soon to be cast away into a skeletal mummy-like form. He had truly done it this time. So he cherished what little feeling his fingers still had against your warm skin. 
“I love you to the moon and back.” Tears brimmed at your eyes knowing what that meant. He had already gone and done exactly what he had spoken of earlier. But even worse, he was in trouble, and he was going to face whatever punishment they had next for him. You were no fool, you knew that after the bandages tightened one last time he would be nothing but bones.
“Khonshu!” There was a long scream coming from the other side of the door, a deep shout creeping under the door and grabbing him away. 
“I’m so-” Before he could even begin to give his sincere apology he screamed in pain, the door slammed open against the wall, and you had to walk away. You couldn’t help him and you certainly couldn’t watch him writhe on the floor facing his final punishment. By the way they were treating him you knew he would be banished. The gods were never kind but never that cruel. There was no turning back, tears flooded down your face into the collar of your dress, the sea couldn’t rival the way you pushed water from your eyes. The tides you could see in your own eyes as everything turned blurry. With one last turn you saw the bird head he had worn form into a skull. Bones. 
That's where my heart; Is longing to be
“Are you there?” Khonshu whispered to the moon as he waited for Marc to return from the cavern after committing the most heinous act. He would never tell Marc or anyone inside of Marc. Luckily the three of them could barely figure each other out, let alone the god. 
“Khonshu?” He stilled. He knew he had to have mistaken Marc’s voice for that of a female’s . Unless…
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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years
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Please can i get a crumb of khonshu with a trans boyfriend? Some fluffiness some cuddling is all that i ask
Khonshu x ftm reader
Headcanons
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Want nothing more than to suffocate this dude in the best way possible, tsk
I added more than just cuddling hope you enjoy lmao.
You became Khonshus avatar on accident. Its up to you if this is before or after Marc and co. One thing led to another, you were dying in an alleyway in Cairo, and that alleyway had apparently been built on top one of his temples.
Soon you were stuck with the bird headed God, who seemed a little too into crushing people’s windpipes for the most minor insult or transgression against him.
He didn’t know you were trans in the beginning, as it had little meaning to him whatever your identity was.
It was when you wore your binder for too long or during missions and it started hurting you that he noticed though. How you would wheeze and cough and rub at your ribs.
Him being a god he can probably feel whatever the hurt is to heal it, but he couldn’t heal this one as it wasn’t actually a wound but something you were doing to yourself.
This led to many arguments between the two of you as he wanted you to stop binding as it harmed you, and you had to explain to him why it was so important to you.
Khonshu complains regularly about humanities brainless ways when it comes to gender and sexuality. You can regularly hear him grumbling to himself how humanity has gone backwards because at least back in the day you could love the same gender.
It makes you happy that at least he respects you, though you swear your binders go missing when you have been binding for too long or for too many days without a break.
At some point the conversation turns to how safe binding works, and after you start to notice how your missions as the moon knight always has at least one day a week empty, and your missions don’t take longer than 8 active hours without a break.
When or if you get top surgery Khonshu will complain but not actually be against it. He tells you that it won’t be an excuse to rest as his knight, as he will heal it right after and he won’t let you slack off.
He uses his weird godly magic that he also heals you with to make your body produce testosterone since getting it was an issue as you traveled the world for your missions.
You realize that mission that involve transphobes go up, which makes you pleased as you can finally hand their ass to them for being so horrible towards people who are just themselves.
As you and Khonshu grow closer it becomes easier to talk to him about issues that come with being trans, and though he’s blunt and sometimes rude about it, he listens and gives his own version of advice.
He rages when people make transphobic comments at you, telling you to kill them then and there for disrespecting his knight like that.
With really realizing he makes the moon knight suit fit however feels most gender euphoric to you.
You tease him about being a secret softy on the inside, which he takes as an insult.
When the two of you get together it continues like normal, though there is more touching involved.
Though he becomes less harsh in his comments when it comes to you, but seems to become crueler towards anyone he sees as not worthy of you or your company.
He brings you gifts, which may be a little weird, like ancient amulets, rings, and clothes. But he preens when you wear it, especially the special jewelry that represent himself.
What surprises you a lot is that the big pigeon is a cuddler, apparently being a banished god for so many years leads to quite the touch starvation
So, most nights when you aren’t out being moon knight, your cuddling in your bed, which is the biggest size on the market to fit the gods size.
Khonshu will typically curl around you like a cat, ending with you against his chest as you do whatever on your phone or talk.
Since he is a god Khonshu has no need for sleep, and will just lay awake holding you and listening to you breath and feel your heartbeat.
Sometimes though, you’ll lay with his head on your chest, though this can be kinda messy to do since he is so large compared to you, but you make it work.
He loves when you rub your hand up and down his back, or rub his beak or around his eye sockets.
He would massage your hands and legs when you cuddle, making some off hand comment about it being good for blood circulation which would make you a more effective knight, though in reality he just wants to touch you.
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starryevermore · 2 years
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So can you do a comfort one with all the boys & Khonshu where the reader has to put down her dog (for convince of the story it will be she got the dog when she was 9) five days before the reader turns 23. The reader went through a ton of Shit with the dog(multiple moves from being in a military family), fake friends, parents missed sweet 16, youngest sister goes through cancer at age 2)so they decide to Cheer up their S/O
comforting you after you have to put down your dog ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley, & khonshu
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: So can you do a comfort one with all the boys & Khonshu where the reader has to put down her dog (for convince of the story it will be she got the dog when she was 9) five days before the reader turns 23. The reader went through a ton of Shit with the dog(multiple moves from being in a military family), fake friends, parents missed sweet 16, youngest sister goes through cancer at age 2)so they decide to Cheer up their S/O - arc-0606
pairing: steven grant x fem!reader x marc spector x jake lockley x khonshu
word count: 756
warnings?: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, discussion of putting down your beloved dog, not proofread
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marc would be the fist one to comfort you out of the moon boys and khonshu. while marc was not the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve the most, he would make an exception for only you. he would hold you in his arms as you cried, telling you how much your dog loved you.
he would ask you stories about your dog, listen to you talk about when you first got the dog, how the two of you were best friends. how your dog was one of the only constants in your life, in a life where you were always moving, in a life of backstabbing friends and absentee parents and a sick sibling.
and when you were crying too hard to tell anymore, marc would tell you stories instead. he would talk about how your dog always cheered him up, always made him feel like a welcomed member of your small family. how sometimes, when you were gone to work and marc was alone with your dog, he would talk to your dog about how much he loved you and how your dog always seemed to know exactly what he was saying, nodding along and barking out agreements when appropriate. 
khonshu was the type of person (god, if we’re being accurate) who dealt little with issues of comfort. he was never sure what to do, especially when it came to you. his love language was threats, threats to protect those he cared for. 
for the first day after you had to put your dog down, he had let you be, let the worm comfort you. but eventually his hollow heart began to ache, knowing that he should be doing more for you. 
that first night without your beloved dog, he appeared to you, watching silently as you flipped through a photo album filled with precious memories. finally, he said to you, “i am sorry i could not protect your dog from the illnesses of life.”
you looked at him, offering a small smile. “it’s not your fault. there are some things not even a god can help.”
“that does not change that i could not protect you from this pain,” he said. “from here on out, i shall include dogs among those my moon knight shall protect. i could not protect yours, but i will honor your dog’s memory in all that i do.”
khonshu wasn’t the best with comfort, but he made do with what he could. and for that, you were grateful. 
steven was the most familiar with your pain. when he had lost gus the first, he had been heartbroken. he had loved his fish so much, and he had only had gus for a short while. he could only imagine how much pain you were in, having your dog for over a decade. 
like marc, he would hold you, listen to you talk. he would offer kind words, tell you that you were the best mom a dog could ask for. he’d tell you to imagine your dog running through the field of reeds, of living a beautiful afterlife. 
“one day,” he’d say, “you will see your dog again. and it will feel like no time has passed. one day, you’ll have an eternity of walking your dog, of playing fetch, of being with your best friend again. but until then…your dog will wait eagerly for you and tell anyone who happens upon its way about the amazing human that provided the most wonderful life a dog could ask for.”
jake took you by surprise. when your birthday came a few days later, he woke you up early, taking you to the nearest shelter. 
“nothing can replace the bond you and your dog had,” he’d say, “but that doesn’t mean it has to be the only bond you have. and while i don’t expect you to want to jump in and adopt another dog today, i thought it might be nice to pay with some of the dogs here.”
“this is probably the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever done,” you’d say, kissing him softly. 
and the two of you would spend the entire day playing with the dogs at the shelter, laughing and having fun for the first time since you put your dog down. it didn’t completely numb the pain, but it did make you forget for just a little while. and, it planted a seed of an idea of what it might be like to co-parent a dog with your lovely boyfriends. 
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heartthrobin · 11 months
Text
press your tulips to mine
steven grant x female!reader
wc: 4.6k
warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n
an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers
summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.
Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.
Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.
Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.
He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?
In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.
Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.
Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.
Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.
Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.
He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.
Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.
Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.
The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"
Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.
By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.
There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.
Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.
Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.
It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.
"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"
Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.
The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.
Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.
"That was mortifying." He muttered back.
The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.
"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.
He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."
"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.
"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."
Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."
Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.
He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.
It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--
"Steven don't even think about it--"
Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.
"Oh my god, are you alright?"
The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.
As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."
Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."
Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"
Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."
"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.
"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.
"Jesus, Steven."
Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.
"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"
An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.
"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."
"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.
"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.
"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.
"Who's birthday is it?"
Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"
"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"
"My girlfriend's."
"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"
"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.
"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."
"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.
Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"
Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"
You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"
Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.
You blushed a velvety red.
"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"
"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."
Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."
He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.
"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."
Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?
"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.
"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.
"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."
Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.
"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"
"Let her respond, Steven."
But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.
"So, uh, yeah."
"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"
Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."
You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"
"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."
You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."
"Thanks."
"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.
"Uh-- and you are?"
"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.
Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.
"It's ... it's a beautiful name."
You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."
His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."
Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.
"Good job, Stevie."
-
Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.
Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”
His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”
-
In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.
Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.
Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”
But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.
Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.
He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.
Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.
“What’s up, Stevie?”
The nickname made him shiver every time.
“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.
When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.
“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.
You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”
It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.
Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.
“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”
Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.
He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.
“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.
Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.
Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”
It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.
He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.
The day passed like most of them do.
The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.
Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.
Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.
He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.
A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--
"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."
The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.
Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."
Your eyes found him, waving a hand.
Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.
"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"
"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."
He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”
Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.
“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”
Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.
“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”
“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.
The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.
“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”
With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."
"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"
"Of course."
Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.
When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.
"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.
The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.
Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.
With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.
"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"
The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.
Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.
Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.
“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.
“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”
He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.
The silence was beginning to turn stale.
“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.
“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”
Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”
“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”
“And you’re very beautiful.”
The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.
Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”
Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”
An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.
“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”
“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“
A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.
The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.
Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.
He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.
“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.
He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.
In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.
Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.
“Steven?”
The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.
He didn’t.
Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.
Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”
If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.
“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“
He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.
“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“
“Will you go on a date with me?”
You blinked up at him. Once, twice.
The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.
“When?”
Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?
“Now. Right now, tonight.”
The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.
“Don’t you have work?”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”
Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“
He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.
“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.
He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.
They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.
With his experience being limited to the pool of:
A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.
B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,
C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,
It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.
“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.
You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.
“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”
-
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khonshus-stardust · 9 months
Text
Different Ways
Pairing: Khonshu x Reader
Word Count: 2429
Summary: Once in awhile, Khonshu will allow his avatar to have a break. It's the four of you: Marc, Layla, Khonshu, and yourself in a town you love to visit. You are happily strolling along when you spot a necklace that was far out of your price range. So, keep going along when you notice the tall mummy bird god gone from sight. Where did he go?
Author Note: Don't worry folks! I haven't forgotten about our favorite dead god. I got caught up in requests on my other blog and have been trying to keep up with them.
Masterlist
Ao3
There was something about seeing the moon god causally chilling on the wall’s edge. One leg hung over the edge while the other rested underneath that one. His staff leaned against said brick wall, between his legs. The crescent end next to his skull.
After all that has occurred with Ammit and Egypt, you didn’t expect to see him like so. Khonshu looked relaxed compared to how you first saw him. So demanding and ready for battle, and grouchy. Very grouchy. You smiled minutely at this. He’s a very grouchy and jealous god. You didn’t know why but your heart fell for him.
Before you, Marc and Layla conversed about something. There was no mission to worry about currently. Instead, the three of you were taking a short vacation. One that everyone needed.
A deep breath of oxygen filled your lungs. The air up here was fresh with the pine trees. You’ve missed this place, only visiting a few times throughout your life. Leavenworth, no matter the time of year, was amazing to visit. Though the cooler weather wasn’t for everyone. You didn’t mind one bit. No jacket as your two friends were wrapped up with one of their own.
The shadow of something past near you, making your head tilt up. A hawk of sorts glided far above the ground, eyes searching for a snack. It’s wings flapped a few times as it circled in the air. That made you look over to Khonshu’s last position once more, but the god wasn’t there. You raised a brow at this in question and turned your head to search for him.
He appeared behind Marc, making him jump at the sudden appearance. Any person around him barely gave notice and stayed focused on their conversations. Said human whipped his head to glare at the god but immediately looked back at Layla. “Khonshu,” he spat out quietly with a harsh tone. You giggled at this and leaned back in your chair.
Layla peered over at you and smiled. “Shouldn’t he be used to that by now?” she teased her husband and pointed her thumb at him. You agreed with her, nodding your head at Layla, a sparkle in your eyes.
“Yeah, I have been around him the least and quickly got over it,” you jestered alongside Layla. She took at sip from her bubbly drink, no ice. That was true. Though, you were easy to scare. The spooks the god gave you were quickly thwarted after the third for forth time he suddenly appeared in your apartment.
Marc turned his glare to the two of you, causing said duo to snicker at his expression. “I’m easily frightened by him,” he tries to excuse himself. It doesn’t work as much as he thinks it does.
Instead, the two of you looked at one another again and laughed, both leaning towards the other. Marc huffed and harshly fell back against the back of his seat. You two just laughed all over again. “You’re playing yourself, Worm,” Khonshu snarked from behind said avatar. You shook your head at the name calling but couldn’t hide the minute smile.
Khonshu disappeared then reappeared neck to you, casting a shadow over you. “I saw that, Stardust,” he was quick to point out. A hint of red blushed over your cheeks at this. You grasped at your drink and sipped away at it.
“I have no idea what you mean,” you stated and peeked out to look over at the masses moving about on the street. No clue. Completely innocent here. Khonshu hummed deeply at your words and rested a large hand on your shoulder. Your entire body tensed up at this. What is he doing?
“Hmm, I thought I saw you smile. Isn’t that something you mortals do? When I called the worm here ‘Worm’,” he continued to try and get you to admit. Something you didn’t want to do. You disliked when Khonshu called Marc ‘Worm’. It’s disrespectful. After everything that has occurred. How could Khonshu name call him things that like? Yet, he calls you ‘Stardust’. You didn’t mind that one. You did have a passion for the stars.
You shook your head once more, denying the accusation. Everything besides the god was intriguing. You saw the playful smirk on Layla’s face and gave her a knowing look. One she laughed at. Being at the other end of the teasing wasn’t fun. Your arms crossed with a pout, lip jutting out. Your cup still hiding a portion of your face.
The god hummed, the stood up. Though, his face doesn’t have the ability to move, you sensed a smirk before he straight up disappeared. Uh oh. That made you fear on where he had gone. He has something up his sleeves. Sometimes, you swear he should be the god of tricks. “Well that’s not good,” Layla stated and set down her bubbly drink. You shot her a ‘no shit’ look.
“He has something planned and I don’t like it,” you sighed and scanned the surroundings. Not a sign of the mummy god anywhere. “I swear, if he messes with my apartment, I will find a way to kill him.” That’s your place, your little place carved out in this world. You hated when people messed with your things.
Layla laughed ad rested fully on the backrest of her chair. “I believe he won’t dare do that,” she said with honesty. You hoped she was right. Or else.
Later on, after lunch had been consumed, the three of you paid and left for the streets. Though, it wasn’t the winter months, where everyone from all the states migrated to see the lights, Leavenworth was still busy. People bustled about, making you nervous and sticking close to Marc and Layla. People weren’t your thing. Let alone a bunch of them. Yet, this place calls to you and makes you take the trip up here.
Something in a shop’s window caught your attention, you broke away from the trio and made your way into the building. It smelled like old pine wood, one of the best smells. You smiled at that and slipped between people towards the window.
A silver necklace with a gold crescent moon and stars hung from a holder. Call yourself cliché with your whole situation and feelings for a specific god, but it was maginfic. You checked the price tag and cringed. Of course. You pouted, gave it one last look, then moved away to graze through the small shop.
Nothing else called to you. That frustrated you. There was a buzz from your phone. You slipped the device into your hand and noticed a text from Marc. ‘Where are you?’ Shit, right. Whoops. A quick response to explain what happened and where to meet was sent to him. You got a thumbs up in return. You deadpanned at the message before leaving the store.
As you stepped back onto the wide sidewalk, you peered back into the window. The necklace was gone! The others around it swaying. With the amount of people around, you held onto a sadden noise and slugged your shoulders. Welp, that was that. You lost your opportunity.
Though, you didn’t grow up a densely populated area, you knew how to snake your way through the sea of people. It wasn’t long before you saw the familiar faces of Marc and Layla. You quickened your pace then stopped before them. “Sorry, got distracted,” you apologized.
“Find anything interesting? “ Marc questioned as the three of you started on your path again.
“Yeah, but it was too much. When I left the store, it was already gone,” you said and scanned the upcoming buildings for anything of interest. There was one store that caught your attention. That have the best ice cream you have ever tasted.
Marc made an ‘aww’ noise and placed a consoling hand on your shoulder. “There’s always next time.” That, he was correct for. But that didn’t less that face you lost this opportunity.  You purposely knocked your shoulder into his.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You smiled at him then felt a certain presence behind you. If you haven’t been around him so many times, you would’ve spooked. Instead, you spun on your heel to face the towering god. You continued to walk backwards and act like you were enjoying the sights. Then, you turned back around and strolled behind the two. “What are you up to, Khon?” you questioned, acting like you were talking to your friends.
Said duo turned their head back to find Khonshu keeping an easy pace with us. You could feel how close he was to you, almost pressed to your back. Yet, the god didn’t say a word.
At every step, you saw the end of his staff in the corner of your eyes. He was almost hovering over you, like a guard dog. That thought made you giggle with a minute smile. Hilarious. You tilted your head up to find the god’s skull within your vision. “What are you doing?” you quietly asked again with a raised brow.
Still nothing. If that’s the case, you continued your pathing with a shrug of your shoulders. You stepped closer to Marc and Layla and rested your elbows on their shoulders. “There’s a few things that we can do tomorrow, if you guys wanna?” you offered.
Leavenworth had a lot to offer. From not only the sights but to adventures. There was horse back riding, rafting, ziplining, etc. You had already done most of the things possible here, after visiting so many times.
This caught Layla’s attention. She perked up and gazed at you. “I would love to! What is there to do besides browse the shops?” You stated the easier adventures possible without needing to book far in advanced. This was sort of an impromptu vacation.  
“Horseback riding sounds great,” she said and nudged her shoulder into Marc’s. The man nodded his head in agreement, gaze casting behind you for a second. You pulled away from them to return a pace or two behind them.
As you opened your mouth to respond, someone knocked into you kind of roughly. By the looks of it, she was a someone lived here. Her glare set hard on you. You rubbed at your shoulder and tried to apologize out of curditisy. Instead, the woman beat you to the punch, face pulled into a disgust. “Watch where you’re going, tourist,” she spat out then promptly strutted away.
A sudden gush of snowy wind knocked her right on her ass. The sight caused you to burst out laughing before quieting when her head snapped to you. Uh oh.
She angrily got to her feet, stomping them as she made her way back to you. Before she could get within ten feet though, she froze, almost falling over as she did. You were confused as her eyes peered above you.
Then, a golden staff slammed next to you, making the ground shake. A cool hand held onto your shoulder as the god leaned over you. You tensed at the touch, feeling the way his power wrapped around you like a blanket. The woman was smart to turn on her heel and make a quick escape away. Everyone around glancing at her strange actions.
Marc and Layla came up to after the whole ordeal. The former leaned close to you but secretly peered up at the towering god. “Khonshu, you can’t fucking do that!” he quietly growled and grabbed your hand. Before he could do anything though, Khonshu tugged you back away from Marc.
But, Khonshu didn’t say anything. Unusual for cocky, sometimes rude, god. Marc scoffed and backed off, hands up in surrender. When the two of you didn’t move – you too still shocked about what happened – he walked away. Layla gave you a knowing look and rushed after Marc, trying to talk him down.
Khonshu hummed, grasp squeezing your shoulder. “I swear, if anyone lays another hand on you, I will cut over their arm,” he growled. With the public around you and no known people, you held in your laugh. A smile grew on your face. Sometimes, he says the weird of things. Or he does the weird of things. Like less than five minutes ago.
You patted at his hand on your shoulder then tried to walk after Marc and Layla. Yet, the grasp he had on you prevented that.
Something cold and thin kissed your skin. You tried to peek down but a hand grasp at your chin. “Khon? What are you doing?” you whispered softly, nervous on what he had planned. You still don’t know what he did early.
“Stay still, Stardust,” he said lowly and removed his hand. Khonshu continued to mess with whatever he was doing. In the meantime – not to look like a fool, you gazed out at the mountains as if you were sightseeing. Well, to be honest, you were. The mountains were your home. Of course, you would love to look at them all day.
“What are you doing?” you whispered and fidgeted in your spot. His hands ghosted over your skin, making you shiver. You felt him step even closer as if to stop you from moving more.
Khonshu’s hands still, hesitating in pulling away. Then, the god stepped around you and knelt down in front of your form. This time, you discarded the fact you needed to act sane. Your gaze was set on him, head tilted to the side. His head tilted down, hands pulling a cold chain around your neck.
The god paused, hands still on your skin before he stood back up to his full height. You immediately looked down at what he had down. A gasp escaped your mouth.
It’s the necklace! You squealed, hands shaking at your sides. It was all you could do to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him. A few tourists gave you weird looks, but you didn’t care at all. “Thank you!” But a thought came it mind, a brow falling as you peered up at him. “How did you know?”
A large hand rested on your shoulder, Khonshu nudging you towards the direction of Marc and Layla. “There’s a saying you mortals have. ‘A magician never reveals his secrets.’” You set a deadpanned expression on him then rolled your eyes. You willingly went where he directed, people parting a way for you. A smile bright on your face.
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multific · 2 years
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Made to be His
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Khonshu x Reader
Summary: Love was one thing, but being born to be someone's was another.
The God of the Moon, as they called him, Khonshu was bored one day, talking to the only Gods who still looked his way he questioned one thing no God has ever.
"Why is it forbidden for us to love?"
This shocked the Gods. In their eyes, Khonshu should know. It wasn't just about the question of being immortal or not.
Gods were not allowed to fall in love. Especially not with mortals. Because they were Gods, they should be above mortals, set an example, and not falling in love.
In their eyes, love clouded the mind. And a God who is at the will of a human is easily manipulated. Which they couldn’t allow.
But the Goddess of Love, Hathor overheard Khonshu. She hated the God, and so decided to play the meanest prank on him.
Hathor made the perfect woman for Khonshu, she fit him perfectly. And to rub it in, even more, she not only gifted her with such beauty but she was also made half immortal.
And from then on, she just had to watch.
You were born a simple woman. Your mother and father took great care of you, you grew up with good values and you became a good part of society.
Yet, you felt as if you were one step in front of everyone, yet you felt like a piece of your heart was missing, like it was ripped from your heart.
Took you years to find that missing piece.
Once you went to Khonshu's temple and saw the statue, you knew, you were meant to serve this God.
Your relationship with Khonshu started when during a late night of prayer, a thief interrupted you and Khonshu saved you.
Khonshu knew the love he felt couldn't be, it shouldn't be. And yet, he loved you.
Your eyes mesmerized the God and could bring him to his knees. He knew he shouldn't but he loved you.
He tried to keep you from the Gods, keep your love for each other a secret. But of course, they found out.
Khonshu was rather surprised that the decision was only that he was banished from the Gods.
And you, you were banished from humans. you suffered greatly, you couldn't see your parents, siblings, or friends ever again.
Your punishment was to be with Khonshu, no matter what it took.
You didn't like to admit but even if it hurt, at least you had him, which made you happy.
The Gods hoped you'd blame Khonshu for it all and leave him.
But no one knew at that point that your longing for him was stronger than any other desire.
After all, Hathor forgot to give you the sense of hate towards Khonshu. He could try to kill you and you'd still love him.
It was messed up, but it was your life.
Eternity with the God of the Moon.
You liked his avatars, all of them different, Harrow was a strange one, always blaming Khonshu for things he has never done. Arthur Harrow was the only avatar of his who couldn't know about you.
Then came the broken mind of Marc Spector and his alters.
You liked them, all three were so interesting.
"Marc Spector, this is My Starlight, My Starlight, this is Marc Spector, my newest avatar."
"Nice to meet you."
He was stunned, he couldn't believe his eyes, he was sure he was in the presence of a Goddess.
And he was half right.
"Keep your eyes to yourself Marc, Steven and Jake! She is mine!"
Khonshu was scary, even Steven was a bit taken aback from that.
One day, the boys were out working in the Museum when Khonshu had to leave you at their flat.
He was rather reluctant to leave you, but after you reassured him, he did leave.
You fed the fish, made yourself some tea, even cleaned up the place a bit. Now, you sat on the windowsill, looking at London.
The world changed so much. You still remembered how it was back then.
"Oh, you are here." you heard a voice as the door closed. It was Steven with groceries in his hands, you went to help him. "Thank you."
"Khonshu left me here, he said it's safe. How was your day?"
"Pretty good, thank you. Oh, you cleaned up."
"Sorry, I got bored."
"No need to apologize, I-Thank you. It looks really nice."
"And I fed your fishies." you said as you saw he really did appreciate your help.
You sat back by the window, trying to be out of way. Steven sat down in front of you, you offered him a kind smile.
"Why are you with the bird? He calls you his wife and all."
"Hathor made me for him as a punishment. She hoped to make him suffer because she hated him so much. But, she created the exact opposite, I could never hate him. So, instead, she created a soulmate for him."
"Oh."
"Sounds crazy?"
"Crazy? No, a couple of months ago I thought Egyptian Gods were a myth and I had a Mercenary living in my head." you laughed a little.
"I like you three. You are interesting and handsome." you said and you saw as he looked away from you, embarrassed by the things you said. It made you laugh.
"Starlight?" the voice of Khonshu came as you stood up. "Let's go. Steven Grant, I won't need your services today, but tomorrow, be ready." he said as he grabbed you and you two disappeared.
"What are you doing Steven? He told you to stay away from her!" Marc said in his mind.
"I know, but she is so nice." Steven let out a sign, he was sure he was cursed, having crushes on married women, he had a serious problem.
You got home.
Home, an ancient temple, the same one you met him for the first time.
It was now your home for many decades.
"I told you not to speak to him Starlight."
"I know, but he's fun. Your last one was way too serious and a bit crazy, still handsome though."
Khonshu sat down in his usual chair, or throne as you often called it. You moved to sit on his lap, as usual.
"Handsome?"
"Not as handsome as you, My God." you said as you placed a kiss on his beak. His heart melted each time you did that. Kissing him, showing him love, care and affection. You were so good at that, keeping him calm and collected.
You gave him a sense of love which he never knew he needed yet deep deep down, he longed for.
Exactly the proof that you were made to be his.
Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
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thepaperpanda · 2 years
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𝓓𝓪𝔂 8 - A Concept Of Desire || Khonshu x fem!reader
Masterlist
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Summary: In the wake of centuries of longing, Khonshu realizes that the girl who works with his avatar, Jake Lockley, is responsible for rekindling his hidden desires.
Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v, hair pulling)
Word count: 1757
Author: Rouge
A/N: the prompt for today is: Hair Pulling orange italics - Jake speaking Spanish
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The concept of desire was defined as a psychological force that ultimately fabricates a need, a craving, or lust, most commonly and aptly associated with a sexual longing.
Khonshu's situation was no different. He could say with great certainty that nearly all males have experienced this torment. The unbridled desire for sexual pleasure ran through his veins. A burning sensation in Khonshu's stomach, a reminder of the hunger he could not satiate, the thirst he could not quench. Khosnhu sometimes felt woeful - he always thought he was above the basic human instincts, the primal needs that people eagerly sought. Yet there he was, engrossed in his own desires, centuries old longings still unfulfilled.
As you walked into the bar each week to meet Jake Lockley, 8 pm - his nostrils flared, his pulse soared - physiological reminders of Khonshu's desires and cacoethes.
This week was no different, Khonshu was at the bar, invisible to all but Jake. The week was like all others that came before, that evening was no different; but when you and Jake locked eyes like you did those many moons ago, the fire in Khonshu resurged - he was never to have you as you were just a mortal being, but he couldn't deny his inner desires, burning himself like a blazing fire, his imagination running wild as his glance moved along the curves of your figure.
You were a smaller woman, you were perhaps 160 centimeters tall, but the heels you wore were so deceptive - and Khonshu realized with astonishment that he was quite attracted to women of smaller stature.
The shoes paired perfectly with your seductive black, garter leg wraps. The tight leg straps highlighted your healthy skin, your perfectly toned legs flowed into a stunning red-velvet corset-dress that hugged your bust and curves perfectly. He looked up at your matte, red lips; your smoky eyeshadow highlighted your beautiful Y/E/C eyes, which transported him to a place of ecstasy, a realm of euphoria. In a way, it was as if you had fallen from heavens and reminded mere mortals what it would be like to be sculpted by the Gods. Beauty is, and forever will be in the eye of the beholder, Khonshu reminded himself.
Khonshu knew that lust could last for months, years, even centuries. In spite of this, his passion seemed to have been brewing for only a few weeks, five, maybe six - when his mind was torturing him, he lost track of time. Despite not brewing for that long, his concoction of lust was explosive and effervescent. 
Thoughts of the good, the bad, and the naughty whirred through Khonshu's mind as a sense of controlled panic overcame him as he finally locked onto a more clear-cut image in his own subconscious and plunged into his own imagination as he remained trancened by your hypnotic gaze.
If Khonshu were mortal, he would love nothing more than to sink his inquisitive fingers, adventurous tongue, and plump lips between your legs.
With his venous and vascular hands, Khonshu would stroke one of your breasts, kissing the trail from your navel to your abdomen. Besides twirling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he would wrap his lips around your other nipple, flick it, and swirl your areola clockwise with his tongue. After incorporating some teeth, Khonshu will continue ascending towards your neck. Your hair would be brushed aside in a loving and caring manner. Khonshu would nibble on your earlobes while moaning and whispering in your ear; sweet nothings and dirty talks echoing in your ear canal.
Taking another deep breath, Khonshu reabsorbed himself into his vivid imagination once more after a brief lapse in concentration as he listened to your conversation with Lockley about yet another target. The god was thinking about the morning after.
It would be heaven spooning you. His cock would be squeezed between your legs tightly due to its stiffness and fatness. 
You would send shivers down his spine as you scratched his abdomen with your velvet, red, and freshly manicured nails. During the time that his lips would feel comfortable on yours, the veiny ridges on his cock would stimulate your pussy, allowing your tight, little, sweet-nectar slit to do its job and coat his hardened shaft with your slick wetness. Khonshu would gently pull back your hair, a good clump in his tight fisted hands; he would tug at it harder and harder if you didn't protest. The stout lips of his mouth would trace the back and side of your neck as he kissed you, once again whispering sweet nothings and dirty teases - what he was going to do to you, how he was going to enjoy you and your gorgeous body.
Khonshu would detach his hips from you after a while to angle his body to tease the slit with his swollen cock, already glistening in his pre-cum. In slow motion, his digits would explore every curve around your waist, rubbing your clit occasionally as well. "Do you think you deserve this?" Khonshu would whisper softly into your ear. Determined to get as deep as possible, he would pick up your smaller frame and throw you passionately onto the bed again. While your legs rested over Khonshu's broad shoulders, he would kiss down the inside of your thighs. His one hand would be placed at the base of his shaft, angled downward to push his cock inside you slowly, while his other hand would be placed on your clit to rub it gently.
He would push deeply into your pussy, then trace his fingers up your neck, wrapping them around it possessively, before leaning forward to change the angle of penetration and pushing even harder. He would reach up and grab a handful of your hair. By wrapping it around his hand and holding your hips in the other, he would drive his dick into your waiting pussy. After pulling out his shaft, he would slap it on your pussy lips, which would elicit a grunt from your parted lips. A delicious, wet echo would emanate from Khonshu's hefty cock in harmony with your beautiful slit.
Khonshu would then turn you over and push you to your knees. Pushing your head into a pillow, you would try to muffle the whimper of pleasure as he again slipped his length into you. Khonshu would lean forward to yank his arm around your waist, to play with your nipples, as his torso rested on your arched back. In the process, he would grab your hair and pull it tightly into a ponytail, causing you to roll your eyes while a moan escaped your lips as he pounded into your pussy from behind. Khonshu would pull your hair harder the harder he thrust. You would try to escape the position for a pleasure so primal and intense would overwhelm your body, setting a knot in your abdomen that was so tight it was only a matter of time before it snapped. You would be drawn to Khonshu by his hand in your hair, hardly tugging. “And where do you think you’re going, Y/N?” He would groan angrily. “Better be a good girl and stick your ass more to me, otherwise I’ll have to rip your hair off.”
His lower torso would smash into your magnificent arse as he grasped your hip tightly with one hand. He would use his hands not only to compliment each thrust and pull you in deeper, but also to create red handprints on your ass. Khonshu would pull at your hair and spank your ass occasionally. Whenever you tried to lay your chest on the bed, he would tug on your ponytail, urging you back into a position that would allow him to penetrate deeper into your pussy. 
The urge to release his load would tighten his balls and make his cock twitch.
Your moans would become louder. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" You would plead.
Having no choice but to obey his desires, the dam would be broken and his cum would be released; his seed filling your pussy, dripping from your body when he pulled his cock out.
After the intercourse, Khonshu would cuddle your face against his chest.
Khonshu's reverie was interrupted by Jake's thick accent, "Khonshu? Are you even listening?"
The Egyptian God of the Moon tilted his skull head slightly, looking at Lockley. "Could you please rephrase that, Jake?"
As Jake frowned, he put his hand on his gear lever as the idiot driving in front abruptly braked. “Por Dios, ¿y ahora qué te pasa?”
Despite not even intending to reply to Jake, Khonshu asked simply, "What was your question again?"
After Jake parked the limo in front of his apartment, he turned off the engine and placed his arm around the headrest of Khonshu's seat. "I was wondering if it would be okay if Y/N stayed here for a day or two. Since we're working together on that guy, it would be easier, you know, ol' bird."
Khonshu poked Jake with his beak on the shoulder. “You can trust me when I say I have no objection to Y/N visiting us, my friend. She might stay as long as she needs to."
The frown on Jake's face deepened; he could not persuade Khonshu to let him bring a girl into the apartment for a date or just a friendly meeting. The situation is dangerous, more for her than for us, Khonshu would argue. Jake pulled the keys out of the ignition switch, asking, "Since when are you so willing to let extraños into nuestro apartamento?"
Khonshu shrugged his shoulders in response, exiting the car quickly. "If we want to deliver the vengeance soon, we've got a lot of planning to do."Jake watched the tall, lanky figure enter the apartment and disappear into the darkness. A smile spread across Lockley's face. In spite of being Khonshu's avatar and not much else, he knew things. It was little known to Khonshu that Jake was able to sense god's true, hidden feelings, especially those that were so intense. The smirk on Jake's lips did not fade as he stepped out of the limo to join Khonshu. In order to complete the job, Jake was willing to do whatever it took to lure you into his apartment. In addition to planning, this was also a way of releasing Jake’s own male greed. Perhaps Khonshu would also be able to make use of his hidden lust.
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multi-fandom31 · 1 year
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Oscar Isaac was right!!!
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Oscar is so cute❤
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mochimoqa · 2 months
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Hiii I just recently hurt myself accidentally while cooking 😭 so can I request how would you write any of the Moon Boys comforting the reader who feels insecure of scars or marks on their body. Would appreciate it a lot 💗
Hello, anon!
I'm so sorry that you hurt yourself :(
But nothing like a good moon boys x reader will fix that :]
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WARNING: Some cursing and Intense Fluff 🤭
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...
"OW- Fucking shit-" Y/n screamed at the pain of extreme heat touching their skin. You turned off the stove and went to the restroom to grab your mini med kit.
"Son of a b—" You mumbled to yourself.
You've gotten hurt plenty of times. Either from cooking, activities, etc. You've gotten insecure over the years because of the scars and marks from different activities.
The one time where you were frying chicken and the hot oil splutter on your skin. Leaving some marks on you.
You turned on the cold water from your sink and let the burn somewhat fix the burn.
You sat on the floor and opened the med kit. The irritation of your skin was a bit bad. You grabbed some aloe gel and gently placed it on your burn.
"Ow-" You winced at the pain.
While you were doing this treatment, you heard a knock at the door.
Keys jangling and swung open the door.
"Love, I'm home!"
Oh, goodie! Steven's here.
"Ah, shit-" You panicked and quickly hid the medical supplies.
"Love? Y/n! Where are you?" He was pacing around the house til he found you in the bathroom.
You were covering your hand behind your back.
"Ah, there you are! Marc, Jake and I started to become a little worried there." He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead.
"No, no, I'm always here, baby." You chuckled nervously.
Steven cupped your face and looked into your eyes. God, his cute dark eyes always get to you.
"I feel like you're hiding something..."
Your eyes widened slightly and chuckled nervously.
"What? No-"
He squeezes your face a bit tight.
You instantly knew that this wasn't Steven anymore and it was Marc. Steven was the more gentle of the boys.
"Y/n, I know you're lying to me."
"I- no, I'm not-"
"Yes, you are."
Shit, you've been caught red-handed. (No pun intended.)
"Okay, fine. You got me." You put your burned hand in front of him.
"I burned myself while cooking..."
God, this was so embarrassing to you. You've had too many scars and marks on yourself, you thought for sure they were gonna leave you.
"The burn doesn't look too bad." He grabbed your hand and examined the injury.
"Huh? You- You're not gonna leave me?"
His eyes shot up to you.
"Why would I ever wanna do that?"
"I- because of all of the scars and marks I have on my body... you don't think it's embarrassing?"
"No?"
Marc paused for a moment and seeming zoned out. He was probably talking to Steven and Jake.
"Steven said that he would never leave you."
He looked at your wound and paused again.
"Jake said that he would be stupid to even do that."
You chuckled lightly at their responses.
"Really?" You sighed and leaned against the sink.
"Mhm, and I agree with the both of 'em. You're literally too good to be true, Y/n. Sometimes me and the boys don't even know of how lucky we are to have you."
"But what about my scars?–"
"The scars don't matter. We love you with or without any scars or marks."
He paused again.
"Jake wants to take control to get rid of that stupid stuff you said about yourself."
You sighed, "Alright, bring him out..."
You felt your hand being squeezed.
"Hola, mi amor." (Hey, my love.) He kissed your hand.
You smiled lightly. "Hey, baby."
"So, what in the wrong fucking mindset are you even in?"
"Uh, I don’t know... I just thought that the three of you were gonna leave me and—"
"Esa es la cosa más estúpida que he oído jamás". (That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.)
"I know..."
"Cariño, we will love you til the end."
"Thank you, baby... thank you to the three of you..."
"No hay problema, bebé. (No problem, baby.)
"Want me to fix you up?"
You nodded. "That would be wonderful..."
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Hello! I hope you enjoyed this! I absolutely love writing Fluff so this was by far the most exciting story to work on!
Also, very sorry for not posting sooner I had a lot of exams so I didn't have time to post this story!
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