Tumgik
#☾ ┆ visage / steven. ﹚
moonspriest · 1 year
Text
tag dump
☾ ┆ out of character. ﹚
☾ ┆ in character. ﹚
☾ ┆ aesthetics / marc. ﹚
☾ ┆ aesthetics / jake. ﹚
☾ ┆ aesthetics / steven. ﹚
☾ ┆ answered. ﹚
☾ ┆ starter call. ﹚
☾ ┆ ask meme. ﹚
☾ ┆ headcanon. ﹚
☾ ┆ musings / marc. ﹚
☾ ┆ musings / jake. ﹚
☾ ┆ musings / steven. ﹚
☾ ┆ self promo. ﹚
☾ ┆ promos. ﹚
☾ ┆ visage / moon knight. ﹚
☾ ┆ visage / marc. ﹚
☾ ┆ visage / jake. ﹚
☾ ┆ visage / steven. ﹚
1 note · View note
enneadchosen · 2 years
Text
tag drop.
0 notes
ivystoryweaver · 7 months
Text
Spectre
A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story
Event #8a: Us
Tumblr media
prev | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist | next
Event #8a Summary: is it really you?
Pairing this chapter: Marc Spector x f!reader (alters mentioned)
Word count: 1.5k
Content: romance, the least angst to date in this story, fluff-adjacent, not beta'd
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
PREVIOUSLY on "Spectre"...
Warmth met your skin - your flesh met his.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Marc groaned at the sound of his phone’s alarm, realizing someone forgot to silence it for their day off…if it was, in fact, their day off. Sometimes it was difficult to tell first thing in the morning. Reaching for the night table, his hand collided with the cool glass of a…fish bowl?
“The hell?” He muttered, silencing the shrill alarm, while quickly checking the date. Steven must have been around the past day or so. Flopping his arm over his eyes dramatically, he groaned, wishing for a few more minutes of rest.
Then something tickled, ever so lightly brushing his opposite arm. His eyes snapped over - he thought he felt something warm.
Something soft and feminine. The hair he knew framing your face, bunched up fabric and smooth skin.
He sucked in a breath at the sight of you.
“Oh god. ”Marc could feel your breath against his neck like the sensual warmth of a sauna.
"W-what?" He gasped, rolling onto his side to face...you.
Not your visage. But you.
He whispered your name, his lips parted as he exhaled in a rush. His beautiful dark eyes darted from your own gaze down to the fullness of your lips.
Could you really be alive?
"Marc…"  His name on your lips, spoken with wonder and adoration - the low sensuality of your voice set his every nerve ending on fire. This was your morning voice. The way you sounded after sleep.
Your trembling fingers gripped his bicep, and for the first time since you departed this earth, Marc reached out and touched you.
He gripped your arm - the warmth of which you could feel even through the sleeve of his old hoodie, which had somehow materialized along with you.
Tentatively, Marc reverently reached out and caressed your delicate cheek, nearly whimpering as his thumb brushed your plump, pouting lips.  
"Baby..."
Long, luminous lashes fluttered once, then twice as your glassy eyes met his.
"Marc?" You murmured, your eyes darting around you, before locking with his again.  
"Hi," he whispered, his eyes glistening in the morning sun that streamed in through the window. He was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your face.
As if not trusting his own five senses, Marc dragged calloused fingertips over the angle of your jaw to caress your throat, which electrified you utterly.
Dark eyes filled with tears as he allowed himself to feel the pulse of life; the heartbeat of his soul - you.
You had a pulse.
You knew nothing in the world except that you could feel.  Marc was solid and broad and warm and you melted against him as he pressed himself against you fully, side-by-side on the bed.
"Am I in heaven?" You whispered with child-like innocence.  
He breathlessly laughed, wondering himself if he had died and woken up in paradise. One arm slid around you, pulling you securely against his cotton-covered chest. 
You must have left the dark place and gone to the light. How else could you feel so blissfully enveloped?
As his arm flexed against your back, he could feel your lungs expand with each breath of life you drew.
"Marc," you whimpered.  "I-I can feel you."
"I know, baby," he nodded, pulling your bottom half closer still, pressing every inch of you against him possessively, while tenderly caressing your cheek once again.  Your eyes cut the minuscule distance to his large palm and you swallowed, tentatively easing your hand over his, brushing the backs of his fingers with your fingertips while leaning into his touch. 
Your lips trembled as you pressed a kiss to his palm, interlacing your fingers there on your warming cheek. His thumb affectionately wiped the puddle of tears that had filled and overflowed, wetting your joined hands.  
"Don't cry, baby," he pleaded, paying no mind to the fact that he was crying as well.  
"I can cry," you gasped, the beauty of the moment engulfing all your senses at once.  "How? How did we…”
"We love each other," he simply replied, answering out of pure instinct.  
The tiniest sob of joy escaped your throat as your pressed yourself closer to him at every point possible.  "I love you," you murmured, your breath caressing his lips.  "Are you sure you can feel me - that…that I'm really here?"  
He brushed his mouth against yours, the taste of you completely tantalizing. "You feel that, don’t you?" he whispered against your cheek.
"Yes," you whimpered. "Do it again.”
Marc instantly complied, melding his parted lips with yours.  You responded with fervor, entirely overwhelmed by your returned sense of taste and the delectable flavorful essence of him.  Your hands longed to discover every part of him, touching him everywhere until your fingers finally found a home in the thick mess of waves behind his ears.  You pulled him deeper into a passionate kiss, opening your mouth to him as your body arched upward.  
Marc tenderly tumbled on top of you, gasping as your velvety tongue slid across his for a real taste.  You were soft and sweet and sexy, and Marc found himself dizzy with heat; both the hot flick of your tongue inside his mouth and the sweltering heat consuming him wholly.
The sensation of you overwhelmed him - flattened him like a tsunami...
...Which made him tear away, gasping for breath, a low moan of approval resounding in his expansive chest at the sight of you beneath him, lips parted and panting for more - more tasting, more touching, more of him.  
You whimpered at the loss of contact between your bodies, unwilling to give up your favorite rediscovered sense of taste so soon.  Marc held himself still over you, drinking in your beauty, allowing himself to reason that if you were real, and so recently returned to him, that perhaps you might be fragile, somehow, and he could not afford to lose control so easily.
"Marc, please - "
"Let me see you."  His tone was soft but commanding.  
But you didn't want to look; you wanted to taste, to feel as much of him as you could get your hands on; to make sure he was real.  You felt frantic with need for him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders to pull his mouth back down where it belonged. 
There was absolutely no way he could refuse you; nor did he want to, opening his mouth hotly over yours again, giving in to the sensations of your pliable lips moving insistently against his own; your ragged breath searing his lips, his tongue, every part inside that you touched and licked.
You spent a brief eternity in an intimate embrace, tasting and feeling and seeing and smelling until you were certain your five senses were intact and that Marc was here, with you, in the same space and time somehow.    
"Missed you. Missed you so much," he finally panted, a short while later, easing down beside you - dizzy with desire and disbelief.
“I love you so much, Marc,” you whispered in a rush, a million emotions and sensations firing in your mind and body. But one thought stood out above all others. "How long do you think we have?"
Wetting his lips, his brow knit in concentration. "'Til what?”   
"Until I maybe…disappear again."
Marc’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mere thought of losing you.  His partner was somehow returned to him - real and right here, in his arms.  He hadn't even stopped to consider that you might not linger.
"I - honestly, I hadn't thought about it."  He glanced at the window, wondering what time it might be, and how many precious moments he had left with you. 
You nuzzled close, whispering against his mouth, "I love touching you. I just don't want it to ever go away."
So many things to consider.  
Slowly nodding, Marc kissed your soft lips again, reassuringly. "I'll do whatever I can to keep you with me."
Staring deeply into your eyes, he granted you a gentle smile - one more peaceful than his usual grumpy pout. "I wanna kiss you forever."
You smiled dreamily. "I never want to move from this spot…except maybe to venture outside of this room for a change."
"I think that's a great idea," Marc chuckled.  "I guess we could get cleaned up and then go anywhere.  Anywhere you want to go, I can take you," he sweetly offered. There were definitely a few things he wanted to do, but they involved staying in bed. Or the shower. Or both.
But you frowned.
"What is it?"
“I’m scared to move,” you explained in a strained whisper. “I’m afraid that maybe I’m dreaming.”
“I’m real,” he assured you, running his hands down the curves of your body, touching you all over reassuringly. “You’re here with me…somehow.”
You sighed dreamily, brushing his cheek with your soft hand.  "Maybe you brought me to life.”
next
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
🎃HAPPY HALLOWEEN!🎃
Moon Knight Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update
Join my tag list - for chaptered fics and one shots only
@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @juleshadalittlelamb @tsukkie-daisuke
@pockcock @minigirl87 @uncle-eggy@cookielovesbook-akie @wyldeflwr
@animechick555 @tiffanypooh @thexsanctuaryx @majestic-jazmin @rosecentaur1916
@deezisnotreal @serren-diamandis @alexxavicry @spidey-3 @twiggoblin
@stevengmybeloved @just3rowsing @howellatme @dowbastan @lonelyisamyw-0love
@bookoffracturedescapes @mintellaine
@i-still-dont-like-your-face @wordacadabra @lilacspider @imonmykneessir @saints-and-sinners
@steven-grants-world @thewinterv @aquaarietes @suddenlysteven @ohantonia
@whatthefishh @sammi-doll483 @silvernight-m @pooliosworld @lilskirata
@elliemm @toobular @majestic-jazmin @strangerhands
133 notes · View notes
snippychicke · 2 years
Text
~☽ Moonstone ☾~ (Part One)
Fandom: Moon Knight(TV)
Rating: Mature/Explicit.
Pairing: Khonshu/Reader (unnamed cis!female)
Warnings: Violence, death, angst, oh, and smut.
Summary: Before Marc and Steven, before Arthur, Khonshu had another avatar. Well, hundreds of thousand of others, but this is the story of one in particular that Khonshu was fond of.
Far more than a god should be towards his avatar. Especially when that god isn't exactly known for his kindness or love.
**Warning**Mature Content. If you're underage, go else where.
Link to Moonstone on Ao3 | Moonstone Masterlist
You were a hot-headed young woman with a deep sense of justice, so it was only fair he offered you his powers on that fateful moonlit night. You were covered in bruises, blood seeping from your various wounds, but still stubbornly standing while the three would-be muggers fell at your feet. They had been armed with knives, outnumbered you, but while you had been armed with nothing but broken metal pipe and pure determination, you had defeated them. 
He could tell you were moments from meeting Anubis, but yet you still held his 'gaze' defiantly. He wondered if you could even see through the quickly swelling black eye, or understand what you were seeing. 
Granted, what mortal did when he first chose them? 
"Accept my gift, become my knight, and dole justice to more cretins like this," he spoke as he knelt down to your level. "In return, I will always protect you and heal your wounds."
You didn't flinch as his hand touched your face, reversing the damage done. The discoloration fled as the swelling faded, and he could see your eyes.Even as you took in his true visage, shock and surprise fluttering across your face, there wasn’t a hint of fear.
Something told him you would prove to be a worthy avatar. 
"Okay, weird hallucination," you finally agreed, trying discreetly to rub your healed jaw and hide your amazement. "I'll accept your gift. Hopefully, it'll at least keep me from a headache in the morning."
You suffered no pain when you woke the next day, though you did scream when he appeared while you ate your breakfast.
~☽☾~
You were the best avatar he had in such a long time, eagerly taking breaks from your studies (why study anatomy in a book when you could break someone's actual zygomatic bone) whenever he called. You quickly became his loyal companion as you walked next to him as an equal, basking in the moonlight. He enjoyed your discussions about everything and anything as you watched over those traveling at night. Bickering and bantering as he followed you down dark alleyways in chases. Or the moments he stole your breath as his wind carried you across rooftops when you tried to keep up with him. 
The ceremonial suit hugged your curves, protecting its softness from their prey. He could feel you through their shared power; that feminine softness hiding powerful muscles and an even stronger heart. Your weapon of choice mimicked his staff, balancing you as you planted your feet in the faces of criminals. He felt honored by your graceful swings and strikes, looking like a beautiful crane in a deadly dance. A dance for only him to enjoy as he called up the wind, both protecting and embracing you.
 A dance where you more often than not ended in his arms, catching your breath. Euphoria apparent in your eyes as you met his gaze, your head uncovered by his mask and hood so you could enjoy the cool night breeze against your heated skin. 
"Thank you." You'd grin up at him, your back braced against his chest as you looked up. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, but squeezed his staff tight instead. "Thank you so much for this life."
"I should thank you for your devotion, small one," He murmured. He took the chance to brush your hair from your eyes, relishing in the small touch he allowed himself despite wanting more. 
You were his Avatar. Fist of Justice. Protector of Travelers. His weapon filled with power to unleash vengeance on the world. 
Yet what he felt for you was far too soft for such titles. 
~☽☾~
He appeared in your small apartment, ready to whisk you away for a night of work. Typically, you relished the chance, usually otherwise stuck studying thick tomes of the modern era. Or having fallen asleep with them as a pillow. 
Instead, music filled the darkened place, lit by a sparse collection of candles. The wind flickered the flames as he passed; the smoke catching in the small whorls. 
He had no difficulty finding you. It was like a strand connected them, pulling him closer and closer. He could be in the Overvoid, and you could be anywhere on Earth, and he would find you in a heartbeat.
He froze, however, when he found you slowly dancing in the moonlit living room, a bottle of alcohol in one hand, dressed in some gauzy housecoat and underthings. The scene enraptured him, like watching a firefly dancing in the reeds of the Nile, so beautiful and haunting.
Then your eyes landed on him, feeling the same tug on that golden string connecting god to avatar. Your lips shifted into a smile, and you padded softly towards him, your hips swaying to the beat. 
"Dare I ask?" He voiced quietly once you stopped, close enough that the hem of your house coat grazed him as the wind twined around them, no more than a soft fluttery breeze. Likewise, the scraps of fabric that draped across him brushed against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"I passed my finals," you grinned, placing a finger to the dull bronze moon on his chest and tracing it lightly. "It's a night to celebrate! But I suppose you didn't come to celebrate with me, did you?" you ended your question with a sigh, realization dawning on your fuzzy mind.
No, there were innocents out there needing their protection. Injustices needing correction. Bad guys to hit. So much work needed to be done. Exams were hardly something to celebrate over in the light of everything.
But for once, you looked almost saddened about him coming to whisk you away. You were such a dedicated avatar, surely he could allow you this. Just this once.
"Well, it hardly seems right for my avatar to celebrate without her god, don't you agree?" His hand skimmed the lacy material covering your shoulders. He could feel the warmth emitting from your skin like the sands trying to warm the chilly night air. Part of him feared touching you. He was the cold, empty night. The moon whose light gave no warmth. 
You may be his fist, but you were so much more. The traveler who used the moon and stars to navigate the vast desert. You were the sand, still warm from the heat of the sun. The sand who danced with the wind, creating designs in the dunes and sparkled with dew that formed under the moonlight.
You dropped the near-empty bottle and breached the distance between them. Your small, tiny hand threading with his, your soft skin apparently happy to accept his presence as your other hand skimmed his waist and silently asked to dance.
And how could he refuse? Could he risk the others' wrath by making this night last forever? His little avatar in his arms, your modern music fading away until the rhythm was just the beat of your mortal heart. 
Maybe not, but it would be one of his most cherished memories, one of the few nights he remembered over and over and felt no regret for the lives he failed, but fondness for this simple moment.
"Are you this kind for all your avatars?" you asked, peeking up at him.
He scoffed. He would have never done such a thing for any of them through the eras. They were truly nothing more than tools to him. But yet not you. You had slipped from being a tool to a friend that he wasn’t sure if he ever saw you as just another avatar. "Hardly any of them have enticed me as much as you." 
You snorted, "Me? Entice you? Wait, I see now," you barked a laugh not unlike his own cawing laugh you pulled from him once in a while. "I'm dreaming. First passing my exams and now dancing with you? Ugh, tomorrow is going to be the worst. I knew this was too good to be true." 
“You passed your exams, dear. As I knew you would,” he reassured simply before allowing himself to admit: “And you tempt me as much as a newborn gazelle tempts a starving lion." 
"Oooh, are you gonna gobble me up then?" you laughed as he spun you around, watching the gown twirl about your shapely legs. 
"I just may, some day." He pulled you close, despite knowing he should keep you at arm’s length. Avatars were mortal. He may be the god of time, healing, travelers, but he couldn't stop the fact that all humans died. All of his avatars either forsake him in the end, or sacrificed their life in his name. You were no different. 
Which would hurt more, he wondered. Those eyes full of hate and rage? Or full of the same devotion, but lifeless? 
Which did the future hold for them? 
~☽☾~
The ceremonial suit protected the avatar from most injuries and healed what it could not prevent. Physical injuries, that was. Mentally and emotionally, not so much. 
Villains laid dead at your feet, but so did the innocents they had tried to protect. You knelt in the suit, holding the small child in your arms as they gasped for breath, the wound on their chest bubbling with the same air they needed. 
"Isn't there something we can do?" you begged, holding the child close, trying to provide them some form of comfort. They were hundreds of miles from the nearest city. Not even the strongest winds could whisk them there in time. 
"No, there isn't." He answered, his tone soft, but you still flinched as if he scolded you. He knelt beside you, grieving in his own way. Travelers of the night he tried to protect and failed. So many through the millennia, and it never got easier. The Ennead restricted his healing powers to his avatar alone, making him feel utterly useless in these circumstances. "Their gods will care for them in the Afterlife." 
He could see the spirit leave the child a half moment before they went still in your arms, the formless light drifting up to the stars to join its ancestors. Your harsh cries followed it, screams of pain and anguish that cut to his core. It had been years since you began your walk beside him, and yet you refused to become numb to any needless death. 
He loved you for it.
He was sure that eventually, you would hate him for it as well. 
~☽☾~
Humans were a reproductive species. And his avatar was that age where you would seek someone to bond with, to procreate and start a family. 
And he knew you were beautiful. He wasn't human himself, but his kind weren't asexual by default. He enjoyed your form from afar, certain that Hathor or some other being that delighted in beauty had blessed you.
He also knew that while you may be his avatar, his fist, his knight, his companion, you could never be his beloved, his to have for all eternity. That just wasn't an option.
However, that did not mean he was okay with anyone else being able to partake in the pleasure of being your mate. Not while you were his avatar, at least. 
"We have far more important things to do than this," he stated firmly, striking his staff on the wooden floor and causing a gust of wind to blow through the small coffee shop. Everyone panicked as things flew around, plates crashing and food splattering. 
You just gave him an annoyed expression, especially when a tart smashed against your hair. "It's daytime, Khonshu. My time. So shoo." 
“You are my avatar no matter what time of day!” he raged, angered that you thought you could dismiss him so easily. “I can make allowances for your studies, but this silly little courtship--" 
"Courtship? Oh my—Khonshu, it's just coffee. Nothing else!" you dared to laugh in his face, rolling your eyes and looking away.
Your dismissal struck him more than he cared to admit. "Don't lie to me!" he slammed his staff again. "Just because I am not human doesn't mean I haven't learnt your ways! That mortal has little other interest than trying to get into your pants!"
Your laugh turned hysteric, adding to the fear of insanity by the patrons, unaware of the god in their midst. "You can't be serious. Are you jealous?" 
"No!" Yet he sounded petulant, even to himself. "You are my avatar and while you are bound to me, I expect you to devote yourself completely."
"Oh, really? I don't recall that in our pact, but sure. Fine." You threw up your hands as you stood, turning to address the rest of the cafe. "I'm sorry, everyone, for making you suffer because a certain ancient god is jealous because I'm here with a friend. Who's married, has kids, and just wanted to repay me for helping them in class!" 
"Don't take that tone with me," he growled as he followed you out of the small shop, the wind dying as soon as they left the cafe. "Marriage vows and offspring are meaningless when faced with beauty such as your own." 
"Flattery is not getting you out of this!" you shouted over your shoulder as you stormed down the sidewalk. "I could, maybe, understand if you don't want me to have a significant other, but I should at least be allowed some friends while in your service. Even if it's just the most superficial of friendships!"
"Am I not enough for you?"
That made you pause and look back at him, the bright sunlight fading his visage even to you. Still, the sun glinted on the bronze of his staff and the crest wrapped against his chest. Despite his height and how large he was compared to you, his voice had seemed small. Weak. 
Part of you wanted to shout 'no!' You wanted someone that shared your love for tv shows and books. To go shopping with that wasn't always comparing the fashions of today to those of the past. You wanted someone you could share funny posts and memes, to call when you were having a bad day that didn't automatically drag you out to focus your emotions on the unjust.
But your anger died from a raging flame to barely a simmer, seeing him like that. They were friends, in the oddest of senses. It was so much more complicated than that as well. "You know I love you. That I will always cherish this honor you have given me." You stepped closer to him and raised your hand, but it merely passed through his. As long as it was daylight, he was nothing more than a ghost. It made the divide between woman and god even more apparent. "But we both know this won't last forever. That I will need to rejoin the mundane someday. Right now, you may be enough for me, but you're not always going to be with me. And I'm going to need someone to lean on when you leave me."
Part of him wanted to fall to his knees and swear he would never leave your side. That he would follow you and walk with you until your last breath, but knew he couldn't. 
Instead, he watched in silence as you turned and continued down the street, knowing the tears on your face and the pain in your heart were both for and because of him. 
~☽☾~
After your fight, he knew that his time with you was running out, the sands of time falling quicker and quicker. He should be preparing, looking for another prospective avatar to take your place. Because you were apparently finally growing tired of him and the strain your service to him placed on your mundane life.
But he was so worried, paranoid even, that if he left your side, he wouldn't be able to return. The thread connecting him to you would snap and you'd become one of billions. So he watched, or 'sulked' as you called it, as you went through your day. Classes where he would stand in the corner as a mortal lectured about something they barely understood. While you ate, alone and in silence, watching your classmates sit together, laughing and chatting between shared food. 
At night, as you patrolled, silence reigned in place of the usual banter. No smart-aleck quips, no small talk to pass the time. You didn't lean on him after a fight, but stood on your own two feet as you regained your breath. 
Technically, you were as close as ever, but you felt as far from him as the earth was from the moon. 
By dawn you crawled into bed, the curtains blocking out the rising sun so you could enjoy a few hours of sleep, but he could still feel the wane in power as the moon's reign moved to the other side of the Earth. 
Yet instead of falling asleep, you tossed and turned every few minutes before sitting up with a growl to glare at his general direction where he had been perched on your short dresser, silently watching over you in the gloom. "Really? You’re gonna be a creep and watch me while I sleep, too?" 
"You never seemed bothered before," he answered, shifting his nonexistent weight. Okay, usually he wasn't actually present, but he was always just a whisper away. Surely it wasn't that different.
"Yes. Well. I'm rather stressed and need some private time to de-stress."
He quirked his head, confused. You never requested privacy to de-stress. Granted, de-stress was usually what you called ‘pub crawling’, or poor attempts at meditation, or maybe a long soak in a bath. 
But he felt that quiver through their bond and shifted with stark realization. Oh. Oh. He knew that emotion, that feeling of unsatisfied lust burning just below the skin. He should leave, if only just into the realm just beyond your sight to allow you privacy as you requested. 
 Yet instead he stepped down from the dresser and stalked towards you, entranced by the thrum of the link, and the myriad of other emotions flooding through. Anger, annoyance. But the one that drew him without thought was the last one. Arousal by the way he moved, how he looked, what he could possibly offer you. "Let me help you."
You huffed, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms, as if that wasn’t what you secretly wanted. "And how, exactly? You're not exactly equipped…" You pursed your lips, unwilling to finish that thought, though there was no denying your eyes glancing downwards in morbid curiosity. "No, it's something I can deal with by myself. Just give me, like, thirty minutes."
"Oh, my little moonstone," he crooned as he shifted on to your bed, barely denting the blankets as he crawled over you. "Let me care for you."
He could see your face turn pink and knew your heart was rapidly beating in your chest. Yet you were defiant as ever, holding his 'gaze'. "I'd like to see you try. You can't even touch me right now, let alone--"
Usually, he only linked to his avatar when called before the others. Or when in a dire situation. Either way, it was always purely business. 
This was anything but. 
Your body was flushed, humming with energy. The muted emotions of the bond become as strong as if they were his own. He couldn't tell where he ended and you began as he stroked your face using your own hand. He could still see your expression, the surprise on it as your thumb brushed your lips gently. 
"Do you still doubt my power?" He teased as he knelt over you. "Do you still want to see me try?" His second question was an honest one whispered into your ear. 
You didn't need to answer. He could feel it in the flutter of your heart. The tiny whisper of your mind betraying your true thoughts as his beak barely brushed your skin. Nevertheless, he waited. Knew that you could feel his patience, his own desire, his fear that he would push an unseen boundary and risk losing you even sooner. 
Your lips curved into that devious smile, the one you wore when you purposely riled him just for your own entertainment. "I doubt that an ancient thing like you would know a way around a woman's body." 
Your hand trailed down your neck, feeling your pulse quiver, before reaching the delicate collar bone peeping from beneath your nightgown and casually drew ancient symbols along its length. Symbols you had no knowledge of, but he knew exactly what he was writing as he drew his name on your skin, claiming it as his own. "I know more about your body than you do. So many ways to make you plead and scream. You'll melt like your precious ice cream in the summer sun and be as boneless as an eel once I'm done with you." 
You laughed at that, disbelieving. "Sure. God of the moon, protector of travelers, vengeance, etcetera, and now the divine pleasure of women?"
"No, not just any woman, or man. Just you. If you'll let me. If you want me." He knew you did. Could feel your arousal as much as his own. Granted, it manifested in different ways, your folds growing moist, your body tight and ready for your hand, his hand, to drift downward. 
His lust was different, a hum of power within him aching for release. To join you in a far more intimate way than humans could ever dream of. But not here. Not now. 
Not ever. 
"Okay then, Khonshu. Show me." It was a taunt. A tease. And he was going to take great delight in punishing your for your lack of belief. 
You tried to hold his gaze as your hands touched and teased; the breeze wisping at any bare patch of skin. But there were shivers, goosebumps, as you undressed yourself, baring yourself to him. He used your fingers to feel the curves he delighted in watching, in protecting with his power. 
When you touched your perk nipples, you gasped as they were rolled between your fingertips, your eyes fluttering close. His beak was a ghostly brush against your neck as you fell back into your bed, back arching into the touches and caresses as he made sure you paid attention to the soft mounds of your chest. 
He praised you in so many languages as you started to whimper as your hands studied the soft flesh of your stomach, waist and hips. And when your legs fell open to him of your own accord, he counted it a success.
He pinned your hands near your shoulders, sinking to his knees and focusing his waning power to brush his beak against your thighs. He chuckled as you hitched your breath and arched your hips. You wanted him. Even if he was less than the breeze taunting and teasing your skin, you ached for him. 
"Believe me now, my little one?" He chuckled, nuzzling against your thighs ever so teasingly, rubbing old bone against soft, tender flesh. 
And only laughed more as you tried to wrap your legs around him and failed. He could barely touch you, let alone stay corporeal enough for you to force him into more. "Hardly screaming and melting here," you snapped.
"But you are about to plead, aren't you dearest?” he crooned, wishing he could touch you with his own hands, to make you really scream in frustration. “I can feel it, that deep ache. To be touched. To be filled." 
"God, you are such a prick," you muttered with a huff.
"Perhaps, perhaps." He continued to ghost over your skin, moving his attention to the dimples of where hip and thigh met, the skin where the waist of your pants clung, all the while the wind teasing and whispering against the curls that were damp between your legs. "Do you not wish to continue, then?" 
You growled, glaring down at him before huffing. "Yes. Please." 
Your hand moved, but to feel the plush lips of your mouth. He never understood kissing, but was still fascinated by them. And he could feel the sensation. Just the slightest touch sent tingles down your spine. 
Oh, to have lips for one night and indulge in that sensation. 
"I appreciate the please, but that's not enough. You know what I want." 
"Please, Khonshu," you stated, hardly sounding repentant. But their other hand played with your breast once more, making you gasp. Between that and his beak scratching your skin, it was enough to change your tone dramatically. "I-I need you. Please." 
"I suppose that will do. For now." Your fingers that had been drawing glyphs upon your lips dipped in your mouth. A little encouragement was all you needed to wrap those same lips around the two fingers, sucking and teasing them with your tongue. 
And oh, that was new. You held his gaze and sent an image of you knelt before him, imagining him with some form of human cock for you to worship the same way. He drew closer, pressing the fingers deeper into your mouth and slowly mimicking the rhythmic movement you desired. 
Your other hand drifted lower, cupping that mound of curls. Your eyes screwed shut as you moaned, bucking up into the touch, while your fingers played, gently parting folds and gathering the moisture there before stroking the bundle of nerves. He moved the hand from your mouth, wanting to hear your noises as your hand continued to explore. Slowly, teasingly, torturously. Every inch, every crease and fold before allowing a single finger to enter you. 
You were hot. Wet. Tight. Everything he wasn't. He bowed his head, resting it next to yours as he tried to keep a handle on his own arousal. Less tempted by the physical sensation, and more by your emotions, what you felt as they slipped a second finger and felt that beautiful hint of being full. 
"Khonshu," you swore softly between soft sounds of pleasure. "Oh please, oh Khonshu." 
"I'm here,'' he reassured, pressing your hand deeper and harder. "I won't leave you wanting." 
"More,” you gasped, crying and pleading for him in more ways than one. He could feel you aching for more than just being filled. You wanted him in that carnal way, every fiber of your being calling for him. “I need more."
Stars, moon, and whatever else, so did he. But this was for you. Whether to teach you to rely on him for all your needs, or just to reward you for putting up with him this long, he wasn't sure. "Mmm, but do you deserve it?" 
"Yes, please. Whatever you want." 
Heavens, you were going to be the death of him. "I want what I can't have," he admitted, hoping you couldn't understand him in the haze of lust and pleasure that was clouding your mind. "I want you, my dearest. Now and forever." 
Your eyes opened, soft, hazy, but found him in the dim light. "Khonshu, I'm yours. Always yours." 
You didn't know what you were saying, what he wanted, yet hearing those words helped his own ache. Your hand delved between your legs, finding your clit. It just took a few short moments before you came, but your hands didn't stop as you clenched around your fingers. Your whines became a scream as he pressed into your as much as he could, bone against flesh, his waist allowing your legs purchase, your arms your own once more and you took the chance to wrap them around his shoulders as you spasmed, rocking up into him. 
A tendril of himself reached out along the bond against his better judgment, touching you ever so briefly. It was barely more than a soft caress, but it caused him to gasp and jerk against you, pleasure overcoming his own senses as you fell apart beneath him, another scream tearing from your lips at the sensation.
The last of his power faded completely, and your limbs fell against the bed, his form passing through you like smoke as you gasped for breath. Despite that, he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay knelt over you, watching as you took deep breaths, your heart slowing beneath your breast. 
Eventually, you tried to caress his face, and felt him as intangible as ever. "I'm so mad at you right now." 
"Oh?" He hummed, easily able to tell your jest, and still able to feel your desire. Not lust, just desire to be with him, to touch him in the most basic of ways whenever you wished. To have a moment of the mundane like a post-coital cuddle. Not just with anyone, but with him. 
Did you really care for him the way he did for you?
"Because you're going to be bragging, 'I told you so' for who knows however long." 
He laughed, a sound rather like a caw as he fell onto the bed next to you, or at least appearing like he did. The blankets didn't even flutter beneath his form. "I can't believe that you ever doubted me." 
 You shifted onto your side, gingerly, as your muscles protested. "Well, to be fair, you hardly ever seemed interested in me." 
He tilted his head towards you. "Oh, little moonstone. If only you knew." He seriously doubted there was anything in the known and unknown that he wouldn't be willing to do for you. 
Especially as your bond with him was as strong as ever. 
736 notes · View notes