#ticklish!khonshu

[pygmi-cygni]

envy - jake lockley

envy - jealousy of somebody's success and a desire to have it for yourself.

cw: smut, feelings, body worship, jake is a little emotionally stunted, he learns to chillout a bit, nothing really kinky.

a/n: I know you guys were expecting some dom angry jake or something but i just want to kiss him tbh.

It had been a blissful few weeks. Khonshu had gone under for a while, meaning the boys had a long stretch of rest and relaxation. Marc had taken full advantage; slept almost every hour he fronted, honestly. You had some good snuggles on the couch together before bed. Steven was picking up a hobby of painting, and you loved to sit with him at the kitchen table and watch his creations.

Your relationship was glowing. There hadn't ever been such a long time that you could just be together, without worrying about Khonshu or anybody else.

Although, you couldn't help but feel something was wrong. Jake had always been the quietest alter, but he made sure to pop in at least once and say hello or dive for a kiss. He'd leave notes on the fridge or send flowers to your work.

Recently he'd been nearly silent. You could hear him in the morning; his footsteps were by far the heaviest, and he always hummed Sinatra while he brewed the coffee. But as soon as you'd go over to say good morning, Marc would blink back at you.

You hadn't said anything the first few days. Maybe he's catching up on sleep. But after a week, you'd started to feel hurt. it wasn't just his absence.

He looked at you differently. His eyes were cloudy and he didn't make eye contact. His jaw was clenched tightly. He looked...mad?

Jake hardly ever ignored you when he was upset. He was a little conflicted but he'd always apologize, showering you with affection.

The thought somersaulted in your head while you stood by the sink. Your cup of coffee had gone cold as you thought. Had you said something? Did you forget an important day? None of the valid reasons you could think of applied.

"You alright, dear?"

Steven's gentle question broke your reverie. A wistful smile flitted across your face.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, thanks, Steven," you nodded, kissing him on the cheek. "Just thinking."

He rubbed your shoulder and nodded towards the television. "Marc's been wanting to watch a new show, you wanna join."

"Is that even a question?"

Laughing, you both curled up on the sofa, an old quilt tucked under your feet. It was a crime show, of course, but even with the gruesome details you found yourself drifting off, wrapped in warmth in Steven's lap.

Some time later, you woke to a jostling. Rubbing crust from your eyes, you pulled the blanket tighter and tried to find Steven. He was halfway off the couch, one leg still trapped under you.

"Why you leaving?" You mumbled pitifully, reaching out. He paused, before lifting his leg and stepping away.

"'M not Steven."

"Jake!" you sat up, suddenly awake. "Baby, where've you-"

"I'm gonna go to bed. He'll be back in the morning." He leaned forward and brushed the barest kiss to your hair, before stalking off.

You felt like you'd just been slapped. In your eight months with the boys, Jake was by far the most intimate, craving touch whenever possible. He'd cry if you didn't kiss him before work. And all of a sudden, he balked at a couch snuggle?

What?

The blanket trailed behind you, slithering over the cold floorboards as you padded after him.

He'd already shucked Steven's jeans and pulled the covers up to his chin, facing the wall.

You knew better than that. Jake's shoulders tensed when the mattress dipped. Shifting close, you tucked your hands around his waist and locked your legs around his hips.

He was stiff as a board, hands firmly under his pillow. You huffed, nudging your nose into his neck. He twitched at the ticklish feeling and you tried again, flicking your tongue out. Jake grunted and turned over, nose-to-nose with you.

"Hey," you whispered. His eyes glittered dark in the low light. You so badly wanted him to lean forward and brush your lips with his, but he stayed a few inches away.

"Steven and Marc are asleep," he whispered back. "You can see them later."

"I don't want them."

Something about your tone, soft and clingy, made his brow furrow. There was that look again; frustrated and cold. You leaned in to hide the cracking of your hurt.

He pulled away. You whined quietly, eyes welling. Jake's chest burned when he saw your tears, but he kept silent.

"Are...are you mad at me?" he'd never heard your voice so shattered. It cleaved a hole right through his heart. Words got stuck in his throat. No, he wasn't mad. How could he be mad? You did so much for them, all of them. Maybe more for Marc and Steven, but...

"Mariposa..." he lifted a hand to your cheek. You leaned in, fisting your hands at his chest. Jake reluctantly held you back, tucking his chin over your head. You burrowed as tight as possible, squeezing against him in a way that made his heart hurt.

"Why did you leave?"

The question met his ears and he sighed. The complicated slurry of emotions hung heavy in his chest. Taking a laborious breath, he shrugged.

"Didn't want to interrupt the show."

"No. Why did you leave?" You pulled away, brow set. He looked away, exposed. That raw nerve that entangled his heart was throbbing with alarm. He was too open, too vulnerable. Both of his headmates were out, cutting off two of the exits.

A soft rub to his chest. He'd been hyperventilating. Your eyes were wide and worried.

"Jake?"

It was too much. He wanted to get away. This was too hard to explain. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult, why did you have to ask? Your curiosity was adorable but it disrupted his brooding intentions.

The bedroom began to fall away as a tight thrumming of his anxiety took over.

He shuddered in a breath, raking a hand over his face.

"I..." The rest of the sentence was gluey on this throat. He coughed and tried again. "I didn't want to interrupt...you."

"Interrupt? What do you mean?" You were still stroking his shoulder gently. Tears threatened to fall. this was going so badly.

"You. And...them."

Another slap to the face. You gaped at him, more in hurt than in shock. "Us? You mean - Jake, what the hell are you talking about? You're not interrupting anything-"

"Leave it, amor, forget I said anything," he muttered, cowering behind his walls again. You wrenched his head to yours in frustration.

"No, Jake Lockley, I will not forget it." Your eyes softened. "Why do you feel like that?"

"It's not-"

"It is important, mister."

Feeling like a child, Jake shuffled to face you and harrumphed.

"It...it seemed like you were in the middle of something," he mumbled, neck heating. Frowning, you shook your head.

"So? You're not banned from participating. I'd love to watch something with you."

You weren't getting it. This was why Steven did all the talking. Frustration churned in his chest. He just wanted to sleep and shoulder this off to Marc. You liked him better anyway.

"Just stop," he hissed, backing away, "you have your things with them, go enjoy that. You don't need me."

You were dumbfounded. What?

"Don't need y- Jake, what the hell?"

His claws were out, shielding the raw emotion pulsing in his heart. Just stop.

"You like them better, si? I know you want Marc, just let me sleep and he'll be-"

You yanked his head to yours, scowling at his bitter tone. A mix of torrential sorrow and dumbfounded irritation tore at your ribs.

"Jake Lockley," you seethed, "you've said that once and I won't settle for a second time. You are not nothing."

He met your anger with his, but a shining film of tears diluted the rage. "No," he whispered.

"I love you too, idiot," you said indignantly, tugging his hair. he bashfully ducked his head, wanting to hide the watery tears bubbling up.

"You know that, right?"

He didn't move.

"Jake."

You carefully lifted his chin, peering into his glistening eyes. A tiny, imperceptible whimper.

"Oh, honey."

He collapsed into your hug as you stroked his back, murmuring soothing reassurances as he choked back a sob. He'd never felt so exposed. The delicate flesh of his chest was flayed open, revealing the timidly thumping cavern of his heart. Red and tender, too soft to cope with the dangers of out there. it felt like you'd reached in and grabbed it, cradling it like the sun. Jake curled into himself, head dropping onto your chest.

"You- you just seem so right with them an' I didn't know if you actually needed me or if I was just there an', an-"

You pulled him to your chest, shushing the sobs that wracked his frame. Internally, you were a mess. He'd never shown this much of himself. How long had he been thinking this way? Thinking you didn't love him as much?

"Of course I want you," you said, shocked. "Of course, love, you're all important to me. Equally," you said firmly. Jake choked into your shirt and you rocked, side to side.

"Why would you think that?" you asked gently when he'd gotten his breathing back to normal.

He avoided your gaze, hot shame curdling his stomach. This wasn't how he expected this to go. He wanted you to brush him off, give him the predictable air of nothing. Clean apathy was easier to live in.

Jake felt like a baby deer, stumbling around in the throes of love, trying to get his feet back under him. This was new. this was different, he wasn't used to being so unsteady. He was the strong one, the big bad Jake that had everything under control-

"It's okay," you whispered, kissing his cheek, "I understand. Just let it out for a bit."

His hands curled at your hips, pulling you tighter as he hid in your neck.

Your shirt was soaked when you pulled away. He still wouldn't look at you, but you could feel his grip tighten on your wrists. Don't go.

Still kissing his face, you gently rucked up his shirt and stroked his chest. Jake sniffled and held you tighter, mouth connecting messily with your neck. The wet warmth of his tears mixed tenderly with his soft lips.

Carefully, like calming a spooked animal, you kissed down his jaw, laving your tongue on his neck and shoulders. Jake stuttered, unsure of how to handle the raw emotion. This was his thing. He did that, not the other way round. You kissed down his sternum, cradling his hands in yours.

"Pretty," you whispered into his warm skin. "have I told you how pretty you are?"

His chest was seized with emotion so thick he could barely breathe. 'I-I look the same as the others," he gritted out, trying to salvage his exterior. A petulant mewl when you sucked a bruise above his heart.

"I know, but you're lovely in your own way." You hovered over the mark, blowing gently and smiling at the prickling goosebumps. Jake didn't know up from down as you continued your slow descent. The heady mix of lust and adoration was making his head fuzzy.

The apartment fell away while you held him. He had started crying again; a silent barrage of warm tears trickling down his cheeks. You licked up the salt, pressing the taste of his yearning onto his tongue. Jake moaned weakly into your mouth, pawing at your shirt.

"Patient," you whispered, returning to your task.

He hiccupped and raked a hand through your hair. The thumping of his heart in your hands was harder now, glistening with newfound love. You continued to wrap him in a protective cape of encouragement, coaxing his shoulders to relax.

You stopped above his waistband, moving to straddle his lap. "Follow my lead," you instructed gently, looking into the dark well of his gaze. Jake Lockley was at a loss for words as you rocked against him, tucking is head in your neck.

The pure intimacy was stifling. He couldn't breathe around the weight of the affection you carried for him. Something had burrowed into the pores of his skin, tearing down the stone barricades around his mind.

The exposure didn't feel so bad. You were right there next to him, keeping his soft frailty from crumbling.

"You've got such nice eyes," you murmured, your own sweet gaze shining with kindness. Sniffling another wave of tears as you kissed his eyelids, Jake felt another wave of emotion.

The comments continued, praising his hair, his mouth, his skin, his strength. Each word rebuilt a piece of his armor.

Softer, better. Like flexible cotton rather than strangling iron. Somehow it felt stronger. Like he was soaring above the Earth, unstoppable.

"you're strong, Jake," you licked into his mouth, "you do such a good job with Steven, keeping him safe."

Alto. no, no, no he couldn't no this. too close to his sensitive middle. caught off guard, he reflexively pulled away, hackles raised. You crept higher on his lap, refusing to let him hide.

"marc knows too, sees how patient you are when he's mad." Another warm kiss and Jake was a mess.

His heart had been pounded to a bloody pulp with every praise, shuddering and pulsing weakly on the floor. your hands were stained, but you still held him lovingly. How did- how did you-

Another shuddering breath, and you blessed him with a reprieve from the attention. Your coaxing, tender touches never stopped, still petting the tension from his bones.

Jake was at the top of the tower, staring down into the abyss of this. This new thing; the drowning mass of you.

jump.

jump, he could do it. just dive in.

Your eyes met his again. "te amo."

the wind whistled by his ears. it's okay, it's okay, he'd-

he landed safely in your embrace, diving forwards to devour your mouth with his. This time you didn't push him away, but pulled him on top of you, running your hands over his sides. He desperately grabbed at your hips, wanting to mold into you. to grow into one body, every cell touching and twining until nothing could pull you apart.

"It's okay, hey," you cooed, helping him burrow into your chest. The warmth of your breasts surrounded his face. This was familiar, he could do this.

A shuddering sigh drifted musically through the room as he kissed and sucked, hoping to drive you even close to the pleasure you'd brought him.

His kisses were needy, harsh and desperate. thank you, they said. thank you thank you thank you.

Gently, softly, he licked down into your folds, pulling aside your panties. The soft tang of your sex made his heart flutter. Your hand was fisted in his hair, tugging and raking delicious rows of arousal into his core. Rivers of lust poured from every inch of him, fueled by the intensity of your affection.

"Good," he moaned into your folds, licking up your slick, "g-good God please-"

You trilled a pleased sigh, thighs tightening around his ears. Jake was engulfed in you; your sent, your softness, your everything. He didn't want to leave. How could he? The syrupy trap of your honeyed attraction had ensnared his heart and wasn't letting go.

"I love you," you panted at your climax, "Iloveyousomuch oh-"

Jake groaned when your wetness met his tongue again, drinking from your well like a parched soldier.

He climbed up your body, diving back into your mouth. You shuddered and wrapped around him, hand traveling to stroke slowly at his hardness. Whining softly, he positioned you to sit on top.

Another powerful punch of lust knocked the air from his lungs as you slipped him inside, face contorting with pleasure. Pride swelled, knowing he could do that to you. Him, not Marc or Steven or anybody else. You moaned and writhed for him.

Your kiss-swolled lips were slack as you rolled your hips, hands planted firmly on his chest. Jake brushed the hair from your face, gazing darkly into your hazy eyes.

"Mariposa," he breathed, capturing your lips in his. The shift made him slide deeper, stroking a heavenly spot deep inside. You cried out against his mouth and he swallowed the sound greedily, rocking harder and harder.

"Need," he moaned, "need you to f-feel good, baby, need ah-"

You clenched around him, hands digging into his back. The fluttering, trembling warmth that surrounded him was intoxicating. Jake slumped against the headboard, bucking his hips as you draped over him. Your warm, slick bodies rolled together, riding waves and waves of pleasure.

Not an inch between you wasn't completely smothered by the other. Jake felt hot arousal peaking in his core, sending a rush of adrenaline through his shaking muscles.

"Amor," he heaved, "amor, oh, please cum, please please I need you to cum," his voice pitched higher. You whimpered, shuddering as his thick girth stroked your walls perfectly, caressing every spot inside. He pulled you tighter, clutching you to his chest.

The sheets were twisted tight around your limbs, rucking and rutting harder and faster into each other. A sinful moan ripped your throat as you bounced on him, soft flesh glowing with the orgasmic halo. A final mewl and you were finished, pulsing hot and tight around him.

Jake bucked once more and thrust hard, shooting his climax as deep as possible. Your velvety folds greedily flared around him, drinking in his spend as you shuddered and keened. Before he'd even finished, he'd tucked you under him, greedily pressing his mouth against your sweaty neck.

I love you, he slurred, I love you so much, baby.

Your fingers limply entertwined with his, finally at peace.

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine taglist, comment to join!

[worthylee]

Moon Knight tickle HCs!! 🌙

(since i’m currently randomly back in my moon knight phase and it was like 4am when i started writing this-

idk what my brain was doing awake 🥲

no one asked but i shall provide regardless so yeah enjoy ! p.s these are my hcs for each character so you do NOT have to agree! i may add more later)

Marc Spector

Ler-leaning switch!!

To his dismay is capable of being reduced to hysterics

He can say ‘tickle’ with ease and likes to use it to tease and fluster Steven. Tho technically it’s hypocritical bc teases affect him

As expected he’s incredibly stubborn and will put up a fight, deny being ticklish or even argue with his attacker claiming he hates it (which is a lie but he will NEVER admit to it and would probably rather die)

He’s not an overly ruthless ler (compared to jake) he gives breaks and will stop if the lee really means it but he is so much rougher than his gentle British alter

Right between his ribs and sides will have him contorting while pleading and begging.

Some of his lower ribs will have him hiccuping

Shares a death spot with his alters just above his hips which will have him either screaming or straight up wheezing for air

His ears are weirdly ticklish and will have him squirming and giggling adorably (Layla has some real fun with that)

His laughter is deeper, more fuller in sound but when a weak spot is found he squeals which often makes Layla melt and she will often tease him about it

He starts fights but can also end them

Anticipation has him growling as a way to act annoyed but he squirms like an eager worm

He will play as system protector in this situation and front only if Steven seems to be on the edge of ticklish death or he feels he’s had enough

He hates it when Khonshu uses his pointy staff to poke him randomly, it puts him on edge with his brain thinking a tickle attack is coming but it rarely ever does

He’s partly delusional thinking that Khonshu just wants to annoy him and doesn’t actually know he’s ticklish (he very much does)

I’d like to point out that if you tickle Marc for long enough he’ll accidentally force Steven or Jake to front. But it’s usually Steven.

Steven Grant

Lee!! Change. My. Mind!

He cannot say the t-word to save his life, gets overly flustered and can’t form a coherent sentence if made to say it

Sometimes panics (especially if the ler threatens to target his weakest spots) and Marc will just suddenly front

“TAKE THE BODY MARC TAKE THE BODY!!”

As a ler he is playful but so gentle! Like he’ll tease but he will ask “you alright love? is it too much?” with like genuine concern. The only exception is when he’s playing tickle monster he is really speedy with his fingers

He is definitely one to initiate an attack just to provoke an attack on him

Yeah he secretly loves it

The only person he won’t go easy on is his alter Marc bc he’s always so moody so Steven uses tickles to make him smile for once

Everywhere is a weak spot!!

It’s not hard to send him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter

His laughter is much more high pitched and switches between being squealy and wheezy. A singular poke has him giggling giddily like a goddamn child

If tickled too long he will fade into silent laughter which often means he’s on the verge of dying (he never makes it that far because Marc often fronts)

Layla always takes advantage of enjoying hearing the squeaks and squeals when she tickles him

He finds Khonshu’s teasing pokes endearing and will say “stop it you silly old bird” which often results in more pokes

Jake Lockley

Ler! 💀

Ruthless. Merciless. Cruel. Unapologetic!

He’d have anyone screaming, begging and crying within second. Like he’s the kind of guy who’d be able to turn a non-ticklish person ticklish. He’d find the right spot

Not much of a verbal teaser but is ruthless with the anticipation purely to carry out the torture before he absolutely destroys the lee with their death spot

He’s the type to warn you. He’ll be like “You keep that up I will tickle you unconscious.” He warns about three times but then

HE. WILL. NOT. STOP!

Means they can’t use the “you didn’t warn me” excuse

If someone is tickling Steven or Marc and it gets way too much for them he will front and DESTROY whoever their attacker is bc he’s their system’s protector and he’s not afraid to act on his role

He’s not overly ticklish mainly because he has more willpower to not be but—

He shares the spot right above his hip like his alters which gets him laughing but he doesn’t have it as bad as Marc and Steven

To his utter most dismay if you repeatedly poke that spot the right way you can draw out squeals. HE. HATES. IT

If he’s teased for it just know you probably won’t live to see another day

It’s easy to tell if he’s fronting during a tickle attack bc his laughter sounds repressed and strained bc he either fights it or the spot just isn’t as ticklish

Or if you’re not attacking a sensitive spot he’s not laughing at all and just looks severely pissed so rip to you

If in a mood and is tickled…RUN! he will destroy anyone in his path!

Bc of this no one and I mean NO ONE tries to tickle him. Ever. Out of pure fear he might murder them

Even Layla hasn’t dare tried. Yet

[ghostly-wisteria-tea]

The Melancholy of a Moon God lost in another world - 2

<- Prologue ....Next->

Fandom: Moon Knight - MCU Rating: Mature, everyone will be VERY out-of-character, I'm still a newbie. Summary: Isekai time!! Welcome to Earth 616. AO3 Link: Here!!

I have to admit that this is not an accurate version of Earth 616, more like a weird amalgamation of the comics since it's hard to get a single coherent fact without it being ignored or retconned an issue later. So, I'm cherry-picking parts, or making a weird fusion of all of them. Basically, my own version of Earth 616. Word count: 3084

Chapter 1

He woke up feeling disoriented, like someone ran him over on the head. No, that’s simplifying things. He feels like someone took every part of his body piece by piece then attempted to put him back together, 3 times all while he is conscious and without anesthesia. It’s absolute torture.

Not exactly something he is unfamiliar with. But then he felt like he was being squeezed into the size of a golf ball, before being stretched out like slime.

Speaking of being stretched, he looked up at the night sky. 

Funny, he thought. Khonshu is supposed to be dead. 

No, not died.

Erased from existence. Yet he is looking up at the very sky he ruled over. But something is very wrong. The Stars, he can’t hear them. The stars, the planets, the millions of celestial bodies that he loved and found comfort with. He can’t hear them sing, nor can he feel them within himself. As if they aren’t even there. He never felt so disconnected to himself more than ever. He raised his hand to the night sky hoping to find something, anything.

At the edge of his vision he saw a tan-skinned human hand. Very human. It took a while for Khonshu to realize it was his own hand. Now he’s very alarmed. In panic he quickly sat up, inspected his hand, his back and touched his face. He’s still alive. And his body is now human.

How? How did this happen? Khonshu thought to himself.

He should have been erased from existence. No afterlife, or second chances. Just nothing.

Yet he is still here. He can touch his face, his arms and torso. He can touch the grass that he is sitting on. It’s both cool from the night air and warm from his body.

He found himself stroking his hand on the grass, finding the sensations rather nice. It’s been a very, very long time since he touched things like a normal person, since his body became an incorporeal mummy ghost. It was one of the things he missed.

Khonshu ended up laying down again. Just enjoying the ticklish feeling of the grass on his skin. He found that he is also not naked. 

Thank Ra. He thought. He does not have good relations with his father since Ra slowly became senile, but he still uses his father’s name out of habit. His mother raised him to respect his elders, despite that respect deteriorating over the years.

Khonshu spends a few minutes just laying down, moving his arms and legs as if he is making a grass angel. He did sacrifice himself to save the world, his world. So he thinks he can indulge in his suppressed child-like curiosities. He looked down to see what he was wearing. A white T-shirt, a pair of beige Khaki shorts with rubber sandals. The kind that you wear on the beach. He inspected his feet to look at them and found them to be very simple; brown leather that goes across the top of his feet and wooden sole. 

He looks at his now human body and finds it completely free from any injuries, not a simple blemish or mark. Like his body is completely new.

What in the stars is going on ? He thought.

Khonshu then tried to stand up, he found that his balance as a large mummy is very different from that of a human. He found himself wobbled up a bit, trying to find his center of gravity. Acting more like a newborn deer until he managed to stand up on his own.

There, I got it . He said to himself.

Khonshu then looked around. He found himself in a park. There are trees but beyond are skyscrapers and buildings. He can also see a walk path, and some light posts.

Now Khonshu is curious but even more alarmed. If he is in a park then he didn’t die. But something about this park unnerves him. It is not the layout of a park in London where Steven’s flat is, or any park he is familiar with, and he has been traveling for 2 millennia. He is somewhere else he does not know.

He needs to find out where he is. So he tried to tap into the moon he personifies, but found nothing. 

Wait, He can still feel some signs of his powers, his godhood and divine energy, but something is blocking it. He can’t access them completely anymore, and if he can’t access his god powers, then He can’t find where he is on Earth anymore.

Shit.  Now he is very, very alarmed. He is a powerless human, alone in a place he does not know. He never thought that he would be scared, not in a long time.

Actually, he was always afraid, afraid that he made a mistake of choosing banishment over his family, for choosing to fight against an evil that will never stop for a race that will never return the favor, for choosing to not be honest to his Avatar and to himself.

Think Khonshu, you survived 2 thousand years of banishment, you can work with this.

He said to himself, trying to get his thoughts back on course. First thing first, he needs to figure out where he is. And since he can’t use his internal divine GPS, he will have to do this the old fashion way.

So he picked a direction, and walked toward it. Standing there, He felt the wind on his face. 

Wind coming from the East . He thought even though he didn’t know where the East was. It seems to him that some of his godly navigation is working enough for him to know the wind direction.

Khonshu turned to face the East, as his internal navigation senses told him. Then he looked around to find some exit to this park. He decided to follow the walk path to the Park Entrance.

As soon as he reached the streets, he noticed the cars and people outside even though it was past midnight. 

Rather lively, does anyone even sleep? Khonshu wonders. The streetlights and neon signs illuminate the ground and people. Both old and young go about their business, as if it is daytime. Khonshu looked up to the sign on the Park entrance and read. Central Park.

Wait, I’m in New York? He thought to himself. He knows New York City as the place where the Avengers defeated Loki. Most people in the world knows of New York, he was aware of Loki and the Chitauri Aliens, but they were defeated so Khonshu found no need to interfere.

But he wonders, why is he in North America of all places? He remembered he was in Tibet. 

Did I really die? Are Marc, Steven and Jake okay? He thought while standing there. He had no idea how long he was still until he heard someone yell out to him.

“Hey kid, you okay?” 

Khonshu turned his head to look at who yelled at him. On his right, a little distance from him, Khonshu saw 2 guys, one wearing a gray hoodie, another with a Mohawk and black leather jacket. 

Clearly street punks. He thought, looking at their attire. But the tone of their voice shows some concern, at least to the one talking to him. He can also clearly tell that they are both wary of him for some reason. Khonshu deems them to be harmless bystanders, probably curious at the random kid staring at nothing. 

Why are they wary of me anyway? He thought. He didn't want to alarm them so he called out. “Yeah, I’m fine”

“Oh, Okay then. Shouldn’t you be at home?” Hoodie guy said. 

“Shouldn’t you?” Khonshu said back immediately. The guy in the gray hoodie just chuckles, “Sassy kid” he commented to his companion. The street punk then said, “Just checking if you're real. You never know, lots of weird stuff around here” 

Khonshu just raises his eyebrow at this, he is not one to trust strangers, nor talk to them. But those words sounds more like a warning. “What do you mean by weird stuff?” He asked.

“Dude, You're in New York city. The world capital of superheroes and villains, mutants, inhumans, ghosts and other weird stuff that can get you killed, or brought back. You never know.”

"That's odd",  Khonshu said. He knows of ghosts and vampires. There are plenty all over the world, with plenty of different varieties and subspecies. But now it sounds like it’s common knowledge.

“...Are you new here kid?” The hoodie punk asked, coming closer. Khonshu ends up tensing himself, alert now in case they might try to attack. 

“Whoa, calm down kid, just asking.” Hoodie said. Noticing Khonshu’s hostile stance.

“Hey, I’m not just a kid.” Khonshu said more loudly now. 

“Looks like a fighter. Don’t know why you were so worried J.” Mohawk guy said, he is less enthusiastic about talking to Khonshu and is trying to get them to leave.

“Right, are you going to be okay then kid? You’re on your own in the big apple.” J asked.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not exactly smart to go with strangers. Besides, I know where I’m going. Just looking at the address before heading home.” Khonshu is obviously lying in that last part. He can’t go home; he never had a home for a very long time. 

“Really…Okay kid" Hoodie sounded hesitant, but his Mohawk friend is already saying that they are already late, and they need to leave right now. He glanced at Khonshu one last time before saying. " Take care of yourself kid, you’ll need it”. The two punks turned around and walked away. Khonshu just watches them until they disappear on the next corner. Now he is alone again.

This does not sound normal to him, Khonshu is wondering why would they just let a kid go on his own, in the middle of the night. While he is thankful that they didn’t push to bring him to the police or someone else's home, the idea that they willingly let him go struck with him. Is it normal for them to just find kids walking on their own in the middle of the street? 

He knows that New York has more super people. But this is a bit odd to him.

Where exactly am I , Khonshu ask as he once again looks at the Park sign. He then looked up to inspect the night sky, but the stars are barely visible. 

Damn this light pollution, He thought. The amount of neon lights and artificial bulbs are blocking the sky, making it unable to see the stars clearly.

This is not going to work. Khonshu remembers every night. So, he has perfect memory of the constellations the night he sent Marc to Tibet. By comparing that to the night now, he hopes to have a better grasp as to where and when he is by reading the stars.

On the wall next to the park entrance is an old poster. The lost god r checked the scheduled date and read it to be April. He is not sure if that is last month or last week. Regardless, decided he needed to get out of New York first, to a place with less artificial lights and clearer night sky. He is also not sure if he needs sustenance now. His divine status allows him to survive without He hopes he can unlock more of his God powers because it means that he will need to find food and sleep to maintain his human body.

So he walked down the street. Passing by stores and people. Some talked like normal and others were obviously drunk. 

Khonshu avoided them and avoided eye contact. Hoping they don’t notice him. As he walked, he tried to see if he knew where north was. He senses a tingle on his left side, so that must be north. Then he tried to find the east, and felt a tingle in front of him. The tried again to find the west and south, and felt the respective tingle on his right and behind him. 

Good, I can still find the cardinal directions.

Khonshu decided to head to the coast, follow the shoreline south until he is outside of New York. At least until the sky becomes clearer and easier to read. 

Khonshu does not know how long he was walking but he estimated to have done so for 3 hours, 23 minutes, and 10 seconds. His association and power of time allows him to measure time no matter what, at least earth time. 

While walking across the city, he noticed something or many things flying across the sky. He is very aware of Ironman, everyone does since the playboy idiot made it public. As well as Thor and the Avengers. He is already expecting to find them in New York, but the amount of super people he noticed every few minutes are more than what he expected of the Avengers. 

I don’t remember those people. Khonshu thought. And he knows any and every one who walks under the moonlight. He saw someone walk up the side of a building and 2 guys with wings. While walking further, he saw a floating machine being attacked by people in costumes he had never seen. The mortal god had to hide in the shadows when the super people flew by, hoping that they would not see him. From the outside, it looks like he is trying to run away. Some people think that he is an ordinary kid and for now he will have to play that card.

He kept walking towards the coast, trying to find a way to reach it through the maze that is New York City while trying to avoid the wreckage from the fights. He suspects that he is halfway there by now. There is just so much going on at night that he needs to take detours.  

How does anyone sleep here? Khonshu thought to himself. The amount of noise and damages are enough to keep you awake. Not to mention the construction cost from all the collateral damages.

When he finally reached the coast. He found it to be as lively and loud as the rest of New York. He also saw more super people fighting what looks like some secret shipment. 

There's always something going on every second.

Usually Khonshu would be slightly annoyed, having this many super people would mean more are fighting to protect the innocent. It would also mean that there are way more and powerful crime lords that would require this much super people to fight back. Like a never-ending cycle.

Hopefully, he won't be kidnapped while staying in the coast. Looking up, the stars are still not clear enough. Annoyed, he walked across the shore south, looking at the dark waters. He eventually came across an abandoned newspaper on the sand. It still looks fresh, so it should be dated today. Khonshu inspected the date, May 2. Not too far off from the Poster, but he can't read the rest.

Khonshu was reminded that his human eyes can’t see in the dark. So He looked around, trying to find a light source. There is a lamp post on the coastal road, with a light bright enough to help. So, he walked there and skimmed the page.  

Since when did Ironman live again, Didn’t he die? Why is Captain America a girl now? Isn't Captain Marvel somewhere in space? Mutant Nation? Where did all these inhumans come from? How many Spider people are there? 

His eye's widened further as he continued to read the contents. There are so many events that he doesn't remember, or rather, never happened in his universe. The Avengers are still around. So at least that appears to be a constant thing in this world.

Khonshu is still trying to process what he read when he started to feel tired. Strange, he thought. He doesn't normally feel tired. Until he realized he is human now. He had hoped to feel the downsides of having a human body later. He is way used to not sleeping so this need for sleep is pretty much new to him.

Khonshu estimates it to be 4 am. A few hours before dawn so he will need to find a place to rest for now. He did remembered he passed by an old shack. It is clearly abandoned and was used as a drinking spot for visitors. Khonshu thinks it is enough for tonight and walks back to the shack. There are some freshly used bottles that can be thrown out and a little cleaning is needed, but Khonshu now has some shelter.

As he lays down on the sand, he wonders what will happen to him now. He still has his mission to protect the innocent but he is not sure how he will do it without his powers, he has no knight, no servants. Ever since his banishment, his mission has been the only driving force to keep moving. So much that he let his ideals destroy himself from within. 

Khonshu is practically starting from scratch now. Almost like a second life. 

He scoffs at this. How can a God be given a second chance? Damnatio Memoriae is the worst punishment to be given to a divine being, to anyone really. Yet he didn’t blink out of existence, he is still here.

Well, he probably blinked out of existence in his world. Marc already forgot that a god named Khonshu existed.

Is he back together with Layla? Is Steven still working in that museum? Is Jake still driving around as a cab driver?

These questions haunted his mind as he fell asleep. Khonshu doesn't normally ask these questions about his family. The Overvoid is timeless and he knows his family is fine. But humans are finite beings that change rapidly in a short period of time.

Reminiscing on the past never worked though, but it would be hypocritical for him to say it, as Khonshu has been living in the past in a way, letting it dictate his actions and affect his emotions.

Regardless of that, Khonshu can’t risk being a hypocrite, not anymore now that he is practically mortal. In this new world, he will have to do what he was supposed to do. Time always moves forward, so will he.

Next--->

[squiggly-mctwig]

Could you do tickle hc’s for Khonshu from moon knight please? 🌺

There's a severe lack of Khonshu tkl content out there and it simply must not do 😔

Lee

( Gonna pretend he has a physical form that Marc and the other two can interact with for the sake of these headcannons, also apologies if any of this seems OOC, I have no idea how to write for Khonshu :,] )

Khonshu had very little prior knowledge as to what tickling is

But as he's watched Marc, Steven, and Jake having tickle fights he's slowly gotten used to it and grasped it a little more

Chaotic mix of a grumpy and stubborn lee

So Khonshu's overall ticklishness is kinda low

But there's certain spots on him that just kicks in the fight-or-flight reflex

For instance, you know that funny little empty space between his neck and torso?

Just wave your hand between it like a DJ and he just starts chuckling, flinches away, and then glares at you

If you also just wiggle a finger under his chin/beak it results in low laughter and like- squawks and chitters lmao

Considering his head is just a skull, I'm assuming he's just completely bones

So now its law that his ribs are the worst

That spot results in deep, LOUD belly laughter

His spine is also slightly ticklish ( You could say it sends shivers down his spine- )

It's kind of hard to actually tickle him, because either he catches you before you do anything

or you're getting a spot that just isn't ticklish ( so you better aim for ribs, chin, or his "void neck" unless you want that quick retaliation that is in store )

Lots of empty threats when being tickled like "I will launch you into the Orion constellation, I swear to Osiris!"

He also has a tendency to call the ler "worm" as well

guess who he calls it the most

That just results in him getting wrecked twice as hard

Lots of wrestling if you manage to get him down, but it's very rewarding when you manage to get past that wall of defense and get him to laugh ( Marc and Jake usually gets that satisfaction )

Definitely holds in his laughter and then breaks a minute in

Teases aren't really the most effective thing, because Khonshu is so stubborn that he HIMSELF teases/provokes the ler

Usually it's just to get them riled up like "Bite me, Spector" or something like that lol

It usually backfires on him though because riling up any of the boys ends you up with an extra five minutes of tickles

He's most susceptible to being tickled by Marc, but he gets ganged up occasionally by all three if he's just being a straight up jerk

Khonshu's the type of person that answers the question "Are you ticklish?" with a "No.", and then when the person who initiated the question turns around, he's v a n i s h i f i e d ( literally )

DO NOT try to get him if he has his moon staff in hand

Unfortunately Steven had to learn that the hard way :(

He has accidentally clocked someone on the head with it in result of pure surprise

Ler

But beware if you do attempt to tickle him, he might forgive but he won't forget

Only tickles someone if he's provoked enough or if he's just purely annoyed

Much more of a ler than a lee

Khonshu is SCARY ler bro

Since he's been watching from afar for most of Marc, Steven, and Jake's tickle fights, he knows what makes each of them turn into a giggle puddle :,)

He sometimes sneaks up behind his lee, and lifts them up to get them

To add onto that, I feel like he'd also go "BOO!" when approaching just because he finds it funny ( meanie )

Steven is probably Khonshu's favorite of the three to tickle, partly because every time he sneaks up on him and spooks him it's the funniest sound ever, and partly because Steven is adorable when he's giggling himself silly :,)

He isn't going to admit it, of course

Prefers casual teasing to baby talk

He doesn't really start most of the tickle fights, but he WILL end it

The tickle fights Khonshu DOES start usually begins with him waiting for, let's say Steven, to stand somewhere behind, maybe Jake.

So Khonshu will just appear behind Jake when he's not looking and skitter his side. And then when he turns around, Khonshu just-

"It was Grant."

and then leave the premises 2.4 seconds later

I see Khonshu as kind of a goofy/ruthless ler

And as in goofy, I mean like little unintentional things he does like switching between tickling someone's back to their tummy every 5 seconds, which in turn gets whoever he's tickling to wiggle back and forth lmao

or like just goes into a deep pondering state wondering "Wait, Steven's worst spot is his sides, right? Wait no that's Jak- NO ITS MARC?"

and from the lee's perspective while he's thinking, it just looks really silly

But ooohhh ho ho his ruthlessness balances it out, you'd think Khonshu's the Egyptian god of vengeance if you didn't know any better

He can say "tickle" probably 26 times in a row with absolute confidence

He also might comment on embarrassing things kinda poker-face like "Hm, you're face is going a little red, Spector. Are you quite alright?"

If Khonshu's feeling a lot more mischievous, he might sneak in a few pokes or nuzzles from his beak

Definitely an anticipation and surprise tickler, like hovering his hands over a spot, and then changing to a different spot last second when you least expect it

[shaktimarvel]

Pairing- Steven/Marc/Jake x fem oc ( Roshni)

This is a tickle fic

I am not good at writing reader so there is an oc

Warning - tickle make out , tickle kink

Summary - Roshni has a tickle kink . She already told Steven . And things go on 😉

"Steven" Roshni whined . "Yes, love" Steven said who is sitting on bed . She came from behind and loop her hands on his neck and legs in his waist and kisses his neck .

"Why are you so adorable ?" Steven said lovingly ."I should be the one who's saying this " She said said slightly poking his side . He suddenly let out a squeak ."That is so cute" Roshni said . "No it's not " Steven said trying to get out of her grasp .

She suddenly started scribbling his sides , and he started giggling like crazy " Sahahahtop ahahahaha " . "Hey you know about my tickle kink right, so let me tickle you ". She said like nothing is happening ." Aahahre yhohou crazy "

Steven said between laughing .

That time Marc and Jake refuse to take control .

" We will take control and gonna get your revenge but right now let her have fun" Marc said enjoying that how ticklish Steven is .

" You are right , we gonna have fun soon , even though she loves tickling " .

SAHAHAHTAHAHP or I whihill nehehver tahahlk thaho yhohohu again " Steven said try to be serious but his ticklishness wasn't supporting him . "Aww don't worry once I am done, I let you tickle me while handcuffing my hands , ok ." She promised him while tickling his ribs , because she is open about it that she is ticklish and she love tickles .

NOHAOHOHOHOHOHOHO" Steven is so weak to speak properly but he accept to tickle her . She stopped let him breath "ah that's so evil , when I will get the chance I will not gonna leave you " Steven said taking his breaths .

"Yes take your revenge but you are the only one who's gonna tickle me alright ." Roshni said knowing that how brutal Jake and Marc are .

"Ok, now let me tickle you " Steven said after catching his breath . " I said when I was done " Roshni said very calmly , explaining her words

" What aren't you done yet " "No" As she said no, she started squishing his thighs "HEY" he squeaks "STOHAHAHAP PLEASE HAHAHAH I'm begging " Steven tried his best to stop her but failing miserably .

"OK , now I am done you can tickle me , only you " She stop tickling him . "Now handcuff me" Roshni said seductively craving for tickles.

"I am gonna blindfold too " Steven said because he is not only gonna tickle him , so they want to surprise her .

"Now please start " She said eagerly want to get tickle . "You gonna regret asking for tickle and tickling me " Steven said and start poking her belly , getting some giggles "Stheehven yhohohuhohr hahand ahaahr shoho soft " Roshni giggled .

Suddenly he moved towards her armpits , but his hands started doing rough tickling and she burst into fits of laughter " STEVHEHEHEHN STOHOHOHOP " She said in little confusion "Ah , it's Marc ,baby " Said the one with American accent.

"Oh god ah stop " She said regretting her decision on trusting Steven. "Said that you will regret it "Marc said teasing her .

"OHOHKAY STOHOHOP PLEAHEEHSE"Roshni trying to say but her laughter betray her "I am not even started yet " he said ready to give raspberries .

"Don't NOHOHOHOHOHOH HAHAHAHAHAHA" she laughed because of raspberries Marc is giving . Soon he starts nibbling in her ribs ."Oh god Marc , please " she is so done .

She has no energy left for protesting ,how can even she protested she is the one who allow Steven to tie her up . She can't bear Marc , now how is she gonna bear Jake .

Soon when Marc feel little tired he stops "now you can breath " Marc said to Roshni teasingly "thank you "she said with sarcasm in her tone .

"Oh , so you want more tickles , mi amor " Said the spanish man spidering his fingers in her belly " Oh dear lord , no-STAHAHAHAHP ".

"Not too early " Jake said squeezing her thighs. "I-AHAHAHA can't take it "she said being totally exhausted by the tickle torture .

Jake stopped but he is not satisfy ,he want to tickle her more but he want her alive too .

" Alright , I'll stop but next time I will be the one who will tickle her first " he said to his alters . "Finally I can breath " she said taking her breaths .

A/N - My first tickle fic .

@marvel-m-lee I hope you like it .

[ichorai]

dlz ; jake lockley.

track ten of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; jake lockley x gn!reader

synopsis ; jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

words ; 3.5k

themes ; angst, mild fluff, married au

warnings / includes ; suggestive, implications of sex, jake is a rough kisser e_e, mentions of injury/blood, mild cursing, marc and steven both have appearances, jake is emotionally constipated, jake calls reader peach !! reader is a sweetheart <3

main masterlist.

Jake Lockley didn’t like your perfume—it was almost nauseatingly fresh and its smell permeated through his own clothes so that he’d often walk out smelling like he had doused himself in Febreze. 

He didn’t like the way you’d hum to his favorite songs while doing the dishes. Nirvana, Elliott Smith, Radiohead—were you singing them on purpose just to annoy him? Nearly every night, he could hear your faint voice drift into the living room, where he was reading the same three sentences of the daily paper over and over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your endearingly inconsistent mutters to the music.

He especially hated when you’d walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Steven’s shirt loosely draped over your form, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your heavy-lidded eyes. There was just something about seeing you at your most vulnerable. You were comfortable around him, and that made Jake uneasy.

When Jake fronted, he slept in the guest room. Marc had convinced him not to blow more money staying at a hotel—and Steven was trying to persuade him to at least sleep in the same bed as you. After all, they were married to you. 

But Jake wasn’t your husband. Steven and Marc were. Jake was just… he was just there. A ghost living in your house.

The very thought of sharing a bed with you made a chill dance down Jake’s spine. He could never. As appealing as the thought of having you slotted between his arms, sleepily recounting how your day went to him, sounded, he couldn’t ever have that. Jake Lockley wasn’t a domestic man.

His hands would always be dripping with blood that wasn’t his, no matter how hard he tried scrubbing it away.

There were times Jake felt a morsel of regret. He was nowhere near nice to you, and yet you still spared him that infuriatingly patient, sweet smile, always telling him to stay safe before he left to drive his cab around (or do Khonshu’s dirty work), and never failing to whisper good night before slipping into your bedroom. 

Sometimes he had a queer, niggling feeling scratching at the pits of his stomach one would commonly refer to as jealousy. He knew that Marc and Steven got to hold you, kiss you, tell you they loved you as they pleased. 

Jake couldn’t do that. Jake wasn’t even entirely sure he was capable of loving someone. 

What made it even worse was that Jake learned about you through them—not because he ever actually tried to get closer to you.

He knew you loved apricots, but not as much as peaches. He knew you loved lighting scented candles whenever it rained. He knew you named each one of your house plants. He knew you were only slightly ticklish. He knew you had a tell; your nose would twitch and your eyebrows would quirk upwards whenever you lied. He knew from Steven to kiss just above your pulse point against the column of your throat to make you melt into him. He knew you had a birthmark between your thighs from when Marc—

Yeah, he’d rather not think about that one.

Jake knew you cried a lot—that one he learned on his own. He could hear you through the walls, but you probably weren’t aware of that fact. 

One night, Jake sat in the living room, staring into nothing, heart twisting angrily at himself until he couldn’t take it anymore, storming out of the apartment after shoving his hat onto his head and grabbing his cab’s keys. Steven and Marc had yelled angrily at him the whole time, but he learned to block their voices out. 

He wasn’t very good in the emotional department, that was abundantly clear.

When he came back home hours later, having driven around the city several times to clear his head, he tried to be as quiet as possible. At an hour as late as this, you were bound to be asleep, right?

But alas, there you were, curled into the corner of the couch, head uncomfortably lolled onto your shoulder. The house was entirely dark save for the dim glow of the television, casting a blue luminescence over your dozing form. Long shadows kissed the slopes of your features, softened with sleep. He noticed that there were tear tracks faintly outlined over the skin of your cheekbones.

Jake froze at the doorway for a moment. Were you waiting for him to come home?

He pushed down any and all intrusive thoughts, begrudgingly shrugging off his coat and hanging up his hat. A calloused palm carded through messy, coffee-hued curls. 

Heart dipping heavy within his chest, Jake stalked forward to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table. He stood over you for a moment. A frown twisted at the corner of his lips, drawing his brows together.

Jaw clenching, Jake stepped away from you, slipping into the hall. He leaned against the door to the guest room for a moment, huffing out a low groan. Gods, what in the hell was he doing?

After another minute of frustrated hesitation, Jake willed himself to make his way back into the living room. You were twitching in your sleep, eyelids fluttering with what he could guess were the beginnings of a harsh nightmare. 

Gently—or, as gentle as a highly-skilled mercenary could be—Jake hooked an arm beneath the crook of your knee, the other looping over your shoulders and neck. When you stirred, Jake could only quietly make hushing noises, wincing at himself. Thankfully, you didn’t fully awaken, a soft noise falling from your lips as your nose turned to press against the fabric of his shirt obscuring his chest, just above where his heart scratched at the walls of his ribcage.

He kicked the door to your bedroom open none too silently, eager to set you down. Get as far away from you as possible. The sound of the doorknob thwacking against the wall behind it made your lids shoot open, and you groggily mumbled incoherent phrases under your breath before peering up at him with confused, watery eyes. He cursed internally.

“You’re back,” you said, voice hoarse with disuse. “You okay?”

There were lots of things Jake wanted to say to you at that moment.

No, I’m not okay. Were you waiting for me to get home? I’m sorry if I made you worry. I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. Am I an asshole? You shouldn’t ever wait for me again. What were you dreaming of? Was it a nightmare about me?

Instead of any of that, Jake merely set you down onto the mattress with a grunt, dusting his hands onto his pants. He glared down at you as if he was angry—and he was, but not necessarily at you. 

But wasn’t he, though? He was angry that you were just so… so kind to him. He was angry that you were patient. He was angry that you were so easy to love. 

“Go to sleep, peach,” he gruffed. A hot flush coursed over his face at the nickname that had unintentionally slipped out. To his relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your sleepy expression seemed to cave in on itself and you dazedly nodded, head falling back into the pillow. 

If only he could slip in beside you, entangle his legs with yours as you kissed softly over his tense face, call you his.

Jake nearly slapped himself to get his head screwed on straight. He spared your already-sleeping form one last glance before trudging out of your room. Hurriedly, he threw himself into the guestroom, ripping off his shirt and pressing a palm flat against his chest to quell the racing thunder of his heart.

You were not good news for him. 

You didn’t see Jake for weeks after that incident. 

A part of you was glad—you were beginning to miss the sound of Steven’s sweet voice, his tender touches, his passionate kisses. You missed Marc’s back hugs, his strange fixation with your bare legs, his lopsided smiles.

The other part of you, however, wondered about Jake.

“Does Jake ever… say anything to the two of you?” you asked Steven one day, stirring sugar into your steaming tea as you leaned against the kitchen counter. Your husband looked up from the novel he was reading, pushing his glasses up his nose while considering your question. 

“Sometimes. Mostly stays to himself—quite the quiet bloke, innhe? Why, love?”

Your bottom lip trembled as you glared into your tea, as if it was the source of all your troubles. Steven was immediately out of his seat, tugging you close until your forehead rested upon his clavicle bone. You sniffled into him, crushing your eyes shut with shame. 

“Does he hate me?” you asked, voice cracking. “I don’t… I don’t know what I did to make him—”

Steven immediately held you all the closer, crooning out, “No! No, of course not, silly. He’s just… he’s just having trouble with himself, that’s all. Doesn’t really talk to us much, either. It’s not you, love, I promise. In fact, I’m nearly certain he fancies you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” you said, scrutinizing him with wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t need him to love me like you and Marc do. I just… it’s hard when it feels like a man with the same face as your husband hates you.”

Steven’s expression crumbled, and he kissed over your left eyelid softly. “I know. I’m sorry, darling, I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Rubbing soothing circles over your back, he urged you to take a seat next to him, leaning over to move your mug of tea from the counter to the kitchen table. “Come on, I’ve got an amazing poem I want you to read.”

It was only two days later that you saw Jake again. You strode through the door, juggling grocery bags in one hand and a stack of books you borrowed from the library in the other. With a huff, you set the groceries down in the kitchen, turning around to see Jake quietly observing you, leaning against the fridge. You bit down a startled scream, flinching at his unexpected presence. 

“Oh,” you said after a second of flustered silence. “Hi, Jake. Didn’t see you there.”

He was observing you with such a sharp gaze that it felt like his irises were cutting straight through your flesh. Finally, he pushed away from the fridge, slowly moving towards you until he stood just in front of you, about an arm’s length away.

“Jake, what are you—?”

“I don’t hate you, peach,” the man said, all gravelly and brusque.

It took you a moment to fully register what he was saying. “Oh,” was all you said, parroting yourself from five seconds ago in a rather poignant manner. “Well… I don’t hate you, either, Jake. Far from that.”

You could see the struggle in the dark depths of his irises. Turmoil raged behind those narrowed lids, and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to look away, not even if you tried. 

Feeling bold, you shuffled forward to slowly raise your hands, cupping Jake’s face within your palms. His glare seemed to harden at first, always so angry at things for not going the way he expected it to go, muscles tensing beneath your touch—but when your fingers gently scraped over his stubble, he could feel himself letting go, practically liquefying into you.

“Why are you like this, Jake Lockley?” you murmured, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. The action made his eyelids flutter shut. He’d never let himself be this vulnerable in front of you before. He wasn’t prepared for his walls to come crashing down around him so quickly—so easily. “Did I do something to upset you?”

All previous inhibitions thrown out the window, Jake grumbled out a small, “Yeah. All the fuckin’ time, peach.”

You quirked a brow. “Go on, then.”

One of his eyes opened before sliding closed again. “Where do I start? You smell too good—I can never concentrate around you. You’re always singing my favorite songs and it’s buggin’ the hell outta me. You’re always so nice to me—even though you know I’m not like your precious Steven and Marc.”

Something akin to a guffaw fell from your lips. “Well, first of all, thank you? Somehow you managed to compliment me in the rudest way possible, and I commend you for that. Second, I know you’re not like Steven and Marc. But I still love you all the same.”

The kitchen grew so quiet, Jake could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop.

His heart began tripping over its own gallop of a pace. You’d said it so easily, so swiftly, as if loving him came as naturally as breathing. 

Jake found his eyes falling to your mouth, slightly puckered to the side in thought. 

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, you started saying, “Jake—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted, glowering at you with a newfound fire crackling behind his eyes. 

You blinked once, then twice. Then you nodded.

A small sigh of content that made Jake far too excited for his own good escaped your lungs as he dove forward and melded his lips with yours, dipping you backward ever so slightly in the midst of his vigor. 

He kissed differently than Steven or Marc did. Steven was languid, careful, and tender whilst Marc was feverish, calculated, and explorative.

Jake Lockley, however, kissed like a mad man. He was all tongue and teeth, desperately furious with his motions, kissing you as if it was the very last time he’d have the chance to do so. His nose slotted against yours, brushing against your cheek as you caved into him, arms winding over his neck to pull him ever so close. 

His fingers immediately clutched at your waist, one moving upwards beneath your (Marc’s) shirt to lightly scratch over the skin of your ribcage and the other shifting lower to tug over the back of your thigh. 

Gods, you just felt so right. 

“Mmh, peach,” Jake growled into your skin as he traversed down your neck, biting at the spot just above your pulse point, which made a low, desperate noise scratch at the back of your throat. He’d do anything to hear that noise over and over again.

“Why do you call me that?” you panted out, fingers threading through his haphazard curls to haul him away from your neck and back onto your lips. 

“You like peaches,” he breathed into you, a groan of agony rumbling from his chest when you nipped at his bottom lip with a hum of approval. “Don’t you?”

A choked sound was all you could let out when he shoved you none-too-gently against the counter, bending over to accommodate for his eager lips over yours.

“I love them,” you whispered once he parted away to catch his breath. 

There it was again. The L word. 

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

Suddenly, as if snapped back into reality, Jake halted any and all ministrations, nose only a hair's breadth away from your neck. You smelled so damn good, so tantalizingly tempting, lips raw-bitten and skin flushed with heat.

But Jake couldn’t. You didn’t belong with a person like him. With Steven? Yeah, of course. With Marc? The idiot loved you too much to ever let you go, even if he tried to. 

Jake would bring you nothing but pain and misery and the thinly-veiled threat of danger. 

“This is a mistake,” he said, voice rough with tremendous restraint.

He thought that if he kissed you, all these stupid feelings would wash down the drain, as if you’d be able to suck it all out of him like a goddamn love vacuum. But, no, it was as if just having a taste wasn’t enough. He needed the rest of you. He needed all of you.

But he couldn’t.

“Jake…” Your voice was quiet, breaking off slightly when he let go of you, stepping back while glaring a hole into the ground. 

With the maturity equivalent to that of a prepubescent teenager, Jake stormed out of the kitchen and into the hall, slamming the guest room door behind him so hard that the picture frames of you and Steven and Marc on the walls rattled. 

A week passed by until you saw Jake again.

You were in bed with Marc, shivering as he ran his palms down your waist, swatting his hands away while gritting out, “That tickles, Marc!”

He hummed noncommittally, pressing kisses down your shoulder, nosing your cheek affectionately. 

“Tell me about this one,” he whispered into you, taking your hand to trace a thin scar over the inside of your wrist.

“I was seven,” you whispered. “This boy pushed me off a swing in the playground. I threw my hands out and a rock got me bad—fractured my wrist, too. I don’t remember much, but I remember there was a lot of blood. I’m pretty sure the poor kid was the one that ran screaming for a teacher to come help.”

Marc regarded you with a look of pure adoration, thinly laced with amusement. “Did you really just call the bastard who pushed you a ‘poor kid’?”

You barked out a laugh and he pressed a lasting kiss over your faded scar.

“Alright, your turn. Tell me about this,” you playfully pressed your thumb between his brows. “You got a little divot here. Been furrowing your eyebrows too much, huh? And you wonder why I call you the grumpy eagle muppet.” When he rolled his eyes, you chuckled out, “What? Listen, it’s not my fault Khonshu got rid of all your scars! I gotta work with what I’m given, here!”

“That’s enough out of you,” Marc bit out, though you could tell he wasn’t really being serious with the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, turn around. Sleep time, baby. Love you.”

You hummed in mild contentment, turning around so your back molded perfectly against his chest. “Love you, too, Marc.”

The rise and fall of his chest was deep, rhythmic, so calming that you were just on the brink of sleep—

Until it stopped.

You could feel the body wrapped behind you stiffen. Immediately, you knew this was Jake.

With a lump lodged in your throat, you hesitantly turned around, only to be met with Jake staring back at you, wide-eyed. It was dark, so you could just barely make out the upset tautness of his features.

Jerkily, he started moving to clamber off the bed, all but shaking you off of him like you were a pesky insect.

No. No, you wouldn’t stand for this.

“Jake,” you said firmly, reaching out to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Stay. Please.”

Mute, the man shook his head, legs slipping out from beneath the blanket. 

Desperate, you sat up, wrapping your arms around his midriff and pressing your cheek into his back as you said, “You deserve love, Jake. You deserve my love. Please, stay.”

For a moment, you wondered if he’d just push you off again. Disappear into that guestroom you were too scared to venture into when he left for work. Just when you were on the near precipice of relinquishing any and all hope, you could feel Jake’s shoulders sag. His head hung low as he sighed.

Wordless, he shifted around and you let go of him so he could slip back under the covers. 

Tentative, you laid down next to him, shifting so your head could rest over his chest. His arm jostled around to rest comfortably beneath your neck. 

Jake held you differently from Marc and Steven.

Jake held you as if he was afraid you’d break apart. Jake held you like he had to be ready to let you go at any moment. Jake held you like he was afraid to show you just how much he loved you.

You craned your neck upwards to press a light kiss to his stubbled jaw, then settled back down.

You heard Jake sigh, but this time, it was one of pure relief—utter bliss. It was quiet, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, nose tucked into your hair. “I’ll try to be better with you. I’ll try, peach.”

Nodding minutely, you intertwined your hand with his free one, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “I know.”

Just before your breaths evened with sleep, Jake could only barely hear you drowsily mumble out, “I love you, Lockley.”

He knew you were already asleep, which made the feat of saying it back somewhat easier for him.

“Love you, too, peach.”