#'woke up and immediately chose violence'
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I love that Bakugou didn't even know that kid was AFO and pretty much was like "I just attacked"!
He was out of commission for, like, what? Some minutes to an hour or so? Have no idea what the fuck happened, woke up, him and Midoriya share a look, executed a rescue plan without words, and Bakugou not only grabbed All Might before AFO could kill him, but blasted his arms off.
WITHOUT KNOWING WHO THE CHILD WAS!!
He figured it just had to be AFO and it wasn't like he was wrong. Bro played a guessing game for like 2 seconds.
#he woke up back and became the embodiment of 'rated e for everyone'#'so i started blasting'#'woke up and immediately chose violence'#sometimes he's funny without trying#just kiya's thoughts#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bakugou katsuki#bnha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#bnha 405
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It's still really fun to me that they had to make Jason just. The world's fastest learner in order for there to be any sensible timeline. We should talk about Jason being a fast learner more. We should put him in more situations
#he woke up and chose violence (trained for 1 month each with experts around the world while simultaneously working on his utrh plan)#just. basically immediately post pit#i felt like i was watching an anime character take off their weighted clothes just not exactly#he trained for 6 months to be robin#meanwhike talia kept trying desperately to distract and throw him at new trainers only for him to be back in like a month
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i just KNOW Nobara was waiting to get back at Yuuji for his oppappi shit, i just KNOW she woke up scheming, pre-shibuya Nobara was so pissed like „man i wish i‘d die so i can get back at Yuuji“ and now JJK267 Nobara is like „HEY FUCKASS GUESS WHAT—“ we love you petty queen, go save your boys <3
#jjk spoilers#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#jjk267#kugisaki nobara#she woke up and immediately chose violence#and we wouldnt have it any other way <3#cursed technique: shitpost
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Imagine this….
You have a great life and you rule over a large kingdom where everyone must obey you. After a long day of ruling, you lay down for a long ahh, delicious nap. You drift deeper into sleep and it feels like you’ve been dozing for like a thousand years, until you feel something. Someone is fcking eating your fingers. Just absolutely chomping on them wily wrigglers. Gobbling them like a complete Goober, just biting them off at the knuckle and slurping up your flesh sticks like Garfield eviscerating a pan of Lasagna.
So you wake up. You become angry at the person eating your fingers. And then you realize-you have BECOME that person. You now live inside their head.
So you decide to go outside of their head. And what happens? The first fcking thing you see is this circus looking twink with hair like Einstein and his emo son, Jakeathan.
Would you…
A: destroy the world
B: be a kind, reasonable and well-balanced person.
For those of you who read this without realizing this was a Sukuna Sympathypost, I apologize. In this essay I will
#POV ( 🤡) your sukuna#Sukuna Ryomen#JJK#jujutsu Kaisen#Jjk 2#Cut him some SLACK#I would be pissed asf too if I immediately saw Gojo 💀 I’d wanna go back to sleep#Suzuka sympathy#Sorry yikes#Gojo slander#But also Gojo appreciation#Choose your own adventure#he woke up and chose violence (rightfully)#Also how tf does Sukuna find any good snacks (other than humans) in the modern age? “Yo Sukuna you want some Cheetos?”#Deranged jjk things
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Narrator: *The torturer behind this cruel prank will meet your malice when you get out of here.* Narrator: *Killing. Now, that sounds like your first good idea.*
Love how first coherent though Durge can have is pretty much 'I'm feeling shitty I should try kill something.' and thinking it's your first good idea.
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@warpaiint asked:
"The room is now empty, nothing left to throw." - Caitlyn / Jinx
"Just means I gotta get creative."
There's a huff of breath, a brief, annoyed exhalation, before Jinx kicks her leg up, the untied shoelace letting the heavy boot fly free as it soared upwards, knocking against a rickety rafter against the ceiling, the creaking of rotted wood beginning to break above the Enforcer's head bringing a twisted little smile to the bluenette's face.
#𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — [ asks ]#𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 — [ jinx || ic ]#warpaiint#// i'm sorry. she woke up and immediately chose violence.
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so far the results are absolutely fascinating. not only does body stink currently have the lead, but despite this almost everybody who comments in tags are on the disliking-perfume side. this gives the impression that they have stronger feelings on the matter than the people who voted body odour. and for good reason, because most of them cite health problems. as one of them pointed out, anaphylaxis from exposure to strong perfume is a real thing, but sweat and piss stink is no worse than unpleasant. on top of this, perfume is a choice but strong unwashed smell is always a result of disability or homelessness. this is making me wonder if the strong perfume users i've been unfortunate enough to encounter are genuinely not aware of how dangerous it can be to others. i used to think it was common knowledge and assumed these people were being deliberately dismissive of other people's well-being, but the few who've commented in favour of perfume have only talked about preference of what smell is nicest. (another layer of this point, for me, is that you can like perfume without putting on a literally throat-burning amount. there's a middle road called tasteful levels of scent)
anyway!
redoing my poll bc my phrasing was confusing, no worries
i wanna be so clear we’re not talking sweaty from a run or put a bit too much perfume on. we’re talking strongest stink of either kind you can encounter. it’s turned up to 11 in both cases
#most people who mention health problems talk about asthma but anaphylaxis is even scarier based on what i know#that's death without immediate hospitalisation#thankfully to me perfume isn't a health hazard it's just sensory hell and i mean hell#like it's not *fun* when a homeless person on the bus smells like ammonia but pouring a whole thing of axe on your head is worse#both bc of the burning sensation it gives me and bc i know you woke up and chose violence#at least the homeless guy would smell better if he had any say in the matter
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🗣️
#do you guys thing that soap and ghost are each other recipients for their KIA letters#I woke up and immediately thought of this so now yall gotta hear it to#wakes up at 7:07 am#immediately texts my best friends this question#chose violence this morning#bun hush
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#946C47 | SUN WUKONG.
genre | fluff & angst
word count | 9192
warning | violence, blood, death / potential ooc + not accurate to jttw
note | thank you for reading!!!
part |one, two, three
Opening your eyes from death was like coming to the surface after being underwater for too long.
Contrary to popular belief, or at least the way different forms of media presented it, death didn’t feel like anything.
There was no black space with your floating body or a separate plane of existence where you could walk on shallow water toward an afterlife. There was simply nothing, and that 'nothing' lacked nothingness. It was blank. It was a time skip.
The last thing you remember was closing your eyes on the ground, and the first thing you remember was that you died. Nothing happened in between the two memory spots. Your mind and body were dormant, like a computer shut off.
The first sign of life from death was obnoxious and demanding.
Your ears cleared, but every sound around you fought to be noticed by your newly awakened brain that hearing immediately became an overwhelming action.
Your eyes regained sight, but they hurt to use, like the permanent feeling of the sun in your eyes or an invisible eyelash falling inside.
Your limbs moved regularly when you didn't think about it and stopped when you did, which you figured made sense. You never thought long and hard about moving your body parts before you died. When you walk, you walk.
Your breathing—the worst was retaking your first breath. Your body has been rid of everything human during your death. The motion to return those characteristics, such as blood flow and the traveling of air, was as uncomfortable as breaking out of a life-threateningly bad habit, as claustrophobic as suffocating yourself with a pillow.
But mostly, it was painful. It reminded you of being impaled by Wukong's staff; the jolt of pain and the sharp gasps were familiar.
“Woah! Easy there, mortal!”
Bajie stood up, his rake supporting his weight as he grabbed the gourd by his hooves.
Your eyes rolled up and down, opened and closed without a recognizable pattern. Your mouth remained open since your mind was forcing you to suck in big gulps of oxygen as if it was trying to nail into your body that it was alive and functioning again.
Drool dripped down the corner of your lips as a result, and you whined through each agonizing inhale, which lasted much shorter than your exhales because you were desperate to leave the pain where it resided in your lungs.
Resurrection gripped you by the neck and took you for a fly. Bajie didn't need to see the repercussions to know your mortal soul rejected being brought back from the dead. He figured it would happen before you even woke up. It was punishing you, and your body couldn't fight back. Unfortunately, he has no spell powerful enough to elevate your humanity to the point of enduring celestial phenomena.
“Here, drink some water,” Bajie urged by shoving the gourd at your chin. “It’ll clear your senses.”
He stepped closer to you and tipped the gourd up, letting the water pour inside your mouth. You angled your head upward to swallow the fresh liquid better, relishing the much-needed hydration. Peering at Bajie's familiar face, relieved tears welled in your eyes before you closed them to focus on chugging the fresh river water.
He noticed them and chose to remain silent. Dying was never a trivial matter, and neither was resurrection. It was a destined matter, but nonetheless significant and, to some, traumatic.
Although he would have never cried, whined, or writhed, he understood why you did, and that was no insult to your humanity. It was a deduction made based on the experience of a mortal.
Not a mere mortal, just a mortal.
"Thank you," you managed after you finished panting from the massive water intake.
“You’re welcome.” Bajie sat down with a sigh. “I have to say, it is nice to hear your voice again after so long.”
You looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
"You have been dead for more than five weeks. We tried to keep your body within the incense veil of the Keeper's Shrine to accelerate the process, but that was proven unsuccessful. We thought you were gone for good, kid!" he explained.
Brows slightly raised with intrigue, you nodded. You haven't the faintest idea how these things work in their reality, so you've got nothing worthwhile to say. "How long does it usually take someone to return from the dead?"
"Resurrection usually doesn't take this long. Not even for the mortals of this world," he said.
“As I suspected,” you muttered before letting a groan escape. “I need the immortality to get out of my body now!”
Bajie snickered. “That’s a wish I don’t hear often!”
“Yeah, well, I am not fond of living for a long time,” you said. “Life is hard enough as it is. There is no point in extending the suffering.”
You looked down at your hands. A flicker of your home sped before your eyes, and you sighed gently, squeezing and releasing the tension in your fingers. You wondered how much time you’ve lost over there, if you’ve missed any holidays, or important notices from your professors or employers. Were your friends worried? You hoped they didn’t think you’d ghosted them.
“I just want to live a good life. A normal one,” you said. “I don’t want anything grand. Food on the table, a roof over my head, enough clothes…” You leisurely looked up at the trees. “I can learn how to find the tiny things in life enjoyable. That’s not a problem for me.”
Bajie’s smile was arched downward, almost as if he thought you were disagreeable. But there was one thing he knew for sure: he was right. You were no mere mortal. There was nothing mere about you.
“I’m curious,” you started suddenly. “How fast is resurrection for someone who’s not a human?”
"If Wukong were to lose one of his seventy-two lives, he'd return in the blink of an eye,” he explained. “That's the only reason why I haven't tried to kill him to cease his chatterbox of a mouth!"
“Are you sure it’s not because you can’t kill him?” you chuckled airily, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your arms on top. “He is stronger than you.”
"Facts do not equal the truth," he said. "He is stronger than me, but that does not make my inability to defeat him the truth."
“I just woke up, Bajie.” You pressed a hand to your eyes and rubbed them. “Must you speak so strangely?”
“You should learn how to speak more eloquently.”
"If I talked like that in my world, people would make fun of me."
"Gah! Your world is full of dimwits," he scoffed. "I care not for their opinion."
You stared at him with a smirk, then nodded in agreement. You thought the same at some point, so you've decided not to argue with him.
"Where is everyone?" You looked around. The Keeper's Shrine was full of incense, and the forest remained as you last saw it.
“Wukong went on a walk if he’s who you’re looking for.”
You pursed your lips, feeling heat rush to the bottom of your neck at his assumption. He wasn’t entirely wrong, though. You wanted to know where Wukong was—you wanted to see him, especially after the incident that caused your death. It was his weapon that killed you, but you wanted him to know you didn’t blame him for it.
“I was asking about everybody.”
“There is no need to deceive me,” Bajie snorted. “He told us what happened the night you died.”
“I was right, wasn’t I?” you muttered, dipping your chin into your forearm. You remembered what happened, so you could still recall when Wukong fell to his knees from the headache Sanzang caused.
"My Master considers you a hindrance to our journey to retrieve the scriptures. We've had to diverge from the original path to seek hidden temples, and you weren't exactly handling the soul-sucking process well. It was time-consuming, and he thought we had set aside our primary goal of obtaining the scriptures.
Although, make no mistake, my Master is virtuous, especially to humans. But pinning the scriptures against you, he prioritizes the scriptures.
“He thought when the opportunity presents itself, we should not save you from yaoguais. That isn’t to say we cannot protect you from them, only that we should ease off on trying to keep you from dying.”
You rolled your teeth over your bottom lip, the stinging pain in your eyes conjured by your focused stare on the floor.
Bajie provided you with the clarity you have been asking for. A question regarding whether Sanzang has changed his mind due to what happened fell silent on your tongue once your mind realized its obvious answer—no, he has not changed his opinion about you.
As a monk with values, who is true to his religion, he cannot change his opinion about you so long as you continue to hinder their journey.
You weren't so much angry at Sanzang for what he did than you were conflicted. He wasn't off your hook, obviously. There would be undeniable caution toward him from now on.
However, you understood his choices. He has principles that he stood by, and you respected him for that, even though, at times, you thought he was more of a slave than a follower of those rules.
“I just wish he came clean with how he felt about me instead of avoiding it,” you said. “We could have worked something out. I am willing to make accommodations.”
“I don’t believe he thought you strong enough.”
“Must I be?”
Bajie was taken aback. His eyes gave him away, as did the clearing of his throat. He never thought about that. "Well, I–"
“It doesn’t matter," you cut off.
“If something has to happen–for the greater good, I suppose–then it shall happen regardless of my ability. I will always be human, and I will always be unlikely to defeat a monster ten times my size. That is it. My weakness is a factual statement. But… people will always suffer under the hands of destiny. What must happen can't not just because I'm too ill to handle it.
"I will continue to not be strong enough, and I will fulfill my goal while so.”
"Hmph," Bajie scoffed after a moment. There was a hint of laughter in it. He realized that you’ve forgotten an important lesson he taught you: fact does not make truth. But, he supposed there was value in your humble ignorance. “That’s the most grown-up thing I've ever heard you say."
“Thanks,” you laughed. “I learn from the best.”
"Flattery doesn't work on me, kid!" he exclaimed dismissively. "Now go find your monkey! He should be with Sanzang, taking a stroll somewhere. He'll be glad to see you!"
“Who? The monk or the monkey?”
“You know who!”
You carefully got up from the ground. Bajie watched your legs wobble briefly as you rekindled your motor functions. Slowly and steadily, you stepped away from the protection of the Keeper's Shrine, and you halfheartedly threw a peace sign in response to Bajie warning you to be aware of yaoguais.
You tried to be more aware of your surroundings as you traveled through the forest, but the sun was warm on your face, and the ground was solid beneath your feet.
You never thought you would think this, but you were happy to feel alive again.
It felt like summer. Your bloodied sweater was likely abandoned at the place of your death. You didn’t mind that; it wasn’t expensive, and the weather didn’t call for it.
Every heavy step involved planning a proper reaction to finding Wukong and Sanzang. You would be glad to see them again, but you weren't sure if they felt the same. Sanzang probably wouldn't, and the last time you checked, Wukong wasn't happy about your confrontations.
It’d be best to eliminate any possible instances of awkwardness.
After what felt like a half an hour's walk, you stopped moving forward to rest your legs. Bajie said they shouldn't be far, yet you haven't heard a trace of motion anywhere near.
Brows furrowed, with sweat stuck to your skin, you looked around at the trees and bushes littered everywhere in the forest. None have defining features that help you determine where or how far you've gone. You stepped to the side, the friction between the ground and the bottom of your shoes ridiculously vibrant in your ear.
Perking your head down at your feet, your gaze hardened as your ears zeroed in on the environment. Nothing. The cicadas have vanished, the leaves were not blowing, the bushes ceased their rustles, and there was no dancing breeze.
This part of the forest has become silent, and you've learned that it means a predator is lurking.
Pinching the hem of your shirt, you held your breath in your throat as a wavering fear crept around your head like a shadow phasing in and out of sunlight—there was no way. You couldn’t be fooled twice by a yaoguai, could you? The forest housed a variety of creatures and animals. It could just be a grizzly bear!
“Tang Sanzang!”
You flinched at the piercing holler, your hands flying up to your head to take cover until you recognized it screamed a familiar name. With bated breath, your arms fell to your sides, and you spun toward the voice. It sounded everywhere around you, an echo throughout the forest, but you recalled seeing where the birds flew from where they were hiding in the trees.
They wouldn't fly toward the sound of danger, so you should go in the opposite direction.
You jogged, ignoring each stumble at uneven grounds until you eventually came across a spacious field.
An abandoned building stood destroyed as if a terrible storm had blown a hole through it. It had collapsed into itself, leaving no room to check for its interior. In front of the house was an unkept grass field flattened and charred haphazardly by what you could only assume was a forest fire.
The sun shone down like a spotlight at the one you’ve been looking for—Sun Wukong, in the flesh, standing with his waist slightly bent and a desperate expression on his face.
You opened your mouth as you walked forward. You stopped when you almost tripped on something soft, your feet flying up and stomping on the ground behind you to catch yourself.
Instinctively glancing at the blockage, you gasped aloud when you saw the one-eyed yaoguai at your feet. Its mouth opened with an unreleased scream, and blood stained like tears down its eye.
The sunlight panned across the grass field at your attention, an example of your mind clearing out spaces for other things besides Wukong. That was when you finally saw them—the dead bodies. Multiple lifeless bodies were lit atop the bladed grass—your eyes widened at the soaking red grass tips, and then you glanced up at Wukong.
"Why can't you just do this one thing for me!" Wukong screamed at his Master. He pressed a hand to his chest, willing his nails to cut through his body into his heart. "I killed all these yaoguais! I'm going rogue again! I'm becoming a hindrance! You have to punish me. It's your responsibility!"
Sanzang stared woefully at Wukong’s desperation. His hand remained under his chin in preparation, but he did not grant Wukong’s masochistic wish.
Sensing the monk's unwillingness to cast the spell, Wukong bit his lower lip, a frustrated redness doubling across his face. He gritted his teeth and pressed his nails to his head, digging into the flesh enough to draw blood. He hooked his fingers around the gold fillet and didn't try to take it off. He only pretended to because he knew he needed it now more than ever.
"Master, please!" he begged through a hoarse scream. "You were willing! When [Name] was–"he gasped through an irritated growl– "when they were dying! You were willing to let them suffer! You chose to punish them because you thought them an obstacle! I've become one, too, yet you won't punish me! How dare you!"
“You let me kill them! You left that on my conscience!” Wukong accused, but his finger pointed at himself more times than it did Sanzang.
This wasn’t the outcome Sanzang desired when he let you die.
Wukong hadn't been impatient about your resurrection; he was hopeless. If he were told how long it'd take for your body to return, he would have waited earnestly by your side, holding your shell close and keeping it warm. But he wasn't warned about the unpredictable duration, and you never woke up.
He thought you were gone and spiraled back into his beastly nature.
However, Sanzang knew very quickly that the descension to madness was deliberate. Wukong was still clever and disciplined. He still retained what was taught throughout the journey before your sudden emergence.
This murderous spree was not a marker of his return to how he used to be—the supremely arrogant and destructive monkey who nobody trusted or liked. It was a cry for condemnation, a plead to be retributed.
Wukong killed you, so someone else should kill him, too. He can suffer no pain but yours.
Sanzang read him like an open book. Unfortunately, giving in to what he wanted would only reinforce the behavior, so he stepped back and refused to spell, no matter how much bloodshed he caused.
"Wukong..."
"No! You're not listening to me!" The monkey groaned into his hands before harshly rubbing his palm down his face. "What more must I destroy? When will you be satisfied, Master?"
"I am not satisfied by your behavior, Wukong. Understand me," Sanzang said. "I simply will not stand to let you guilt me into hurting you."
"You've already done that," Wukong spat.
"You cannot truly be bothered by this, can you?" Sanzang questioned. "The immortal peach has been consumed. Trust nothing else but the product of the celestial garden. Their death is not definitive."
"They're still dead!"
"Then I suppose they are."
A fiery sensation burned behind Wukong's eyes and painted Sanzang red. The staff appeared in his hand, still uncleaned with the scent of your blood, and he abruptly lunged at the monk, who took the unplanned bait and immediately began to chant the fillet-tightening spell.
Wukong fell to the ground but didn't squirm or writhe as much as usual. Exhausted pants escaped his lips, and he drilled his head against the floor, his eyes squeezed shut as he leaned his senses into the agony. When he looked up at Sanzang again, his body barely able to move at his will, he managed a triumphant smirk.
"Is this what... I must do...?" he gritted out, "I... I have to perform the bottom of the barrel... for you... my Master... to grant me just a little mercy!"
Sanzang pursed his lips in disdain. "You push the limits of my tolerance, you blasted monkey."
Your gaze hardened at the familiar insult you remembered reading in the book. Their conversation didn't provide any context to the argument, but you could tell Wukong had done something forbidden, and Sanzang was punishing him.
After Sanzang's voice fell, Wukong finally started to exhibit signs of discomfort as he scratched at his fillet. You never knew if the spell could adjust the tightness of the fillet, but it seemed Wukong couldn't handle the pain quietly anymore.
His cries filled your ears, making you wince. It wasn’t that the novel didn’t describe it well enough or the actors had lousy acting. The reality of the band-tightening spell was simply much more painstaking.
You quickly stepped over the dead yaoguai to run toward him. Your knees gave out when you were near Wukong, and you fell, your palms scraping the dirt. You ignored the mild pain and scrambled over. You grabbed onto him and pulled him to your chest, a hand over his shoulder and the other at his hand, and then you snapped up at Sanzang, your brows furrowed with anger.
"That's enough! Stop hurting him!" you shouted, tears rolling down your face uncontrollably. You didn't think you were particularly upset, only that Wukong's cries affected you like most people's agony. Or, perhaps you were just afraid you couldn't convince Sanzang to stop.
"He understands. He won't do it again, whatever it is. He gets it, so just stop!"
Sanzang looked at you, his voice trailing off to a pause. You gulped nervously, your hands squeezing Wukong closer to your side as if that was any help. You looked at Sanzang like he's a cautionary tale, eyes cowering but gaze unwavering—confronting him bravely and silently, watching him like he's a demon but cradling Wukong like the opposite.
"You're back." He glimpsed at Wukong, whose ear pressed against your chest. "Please return to the Keeper's Shrine by sundown. The night is dangerous."
Walking away from your fallen figures, he untied his horse by the tree and left, holding on to the rope, slowly strolling further away from the bloodbath on the floor.
You gritted your teeth into a frown as a hand clumsily wiped at your wet eye. Confusion tinkered above your head like floating question marks at Sanzang's attitude. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't express much excitement considering his present grudge, but you thought he almost looked relieved. Not because you resurrected but because Wukong has finally calmed down.
He stared at the grass with his arms around your waist, silently waiting as the world calmed around you. His hands no longer trembled as they did—an initial reaction to your sudden presence. Dry eyes made wet by trapped tears and bare neck made hot from a veiny and sour sensation, he relished even the fabric of your shirt against his skin.
Your heart palpitated irregularly, and Wukong suffered gentle panic from that. Discarding the logic that your heart was responding to the worrisome event just now unfolded, your racing heartbeat filled his head with unhinged outcomes that served to take you from him again.
There were no yaoguais around; he's murdered them all. Those who were smart had fled long before the altercation with Sanzang. The bugs whispered in their home, and nature resumed its daily wandering, moving leaves and blowing breezes.
The longer you embraced on the floor, letting the sun kiss you warm, the more you relaxed. The world felt brighter than before, and your stillness in each other conveyed feelings hidden snuggly within the thousand words your exhausted bodies couldn't express.
Your heart began to slow down to how a human heart was meant to beat: soft and steady. Alive. He wasn't entirely human, but Wukong thought his heart moved in identical shapes. He measured yours and matched it with his own, his senses isolating and gathering to hear inside your chest and his body, an overdramatic calculation to further prove to himself that you were alive.
But his relief traversed your aliveness. It was a much-needed release from remorse. It was vindication. You being here was permission for him to stop physically and emotionally tormenting himself. You being here, hugging him so gently, unlike his feared expectations, where you'd flinch away because your memories wrote that he was your killer—your endearing hands spoke: you can stop punishing yourself. You no longer have to pay for a sin you thought you committed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry it went down like that.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” You shook your head. “I don’t blame you. Honestly, I don’t think I blame Sanzang either.”
Perhaps nobody is the problem. One thing merely led to another. If one backtracks too much, one would end up at the wall of God's home, and it just wasn't possible for him to take the fall for everything.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Hm?” You glanced at him, the gaps of your fingers decorated with the rough fur atop his head. “What?”
“Are you well?” he rephrased.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s good.” It was barely audible.
“What about you?” you asked. “Are you okay?”
Wukong felt the shape of your waist on his palm. Solid, pudgy, human.
“Yes,” he replied. “I’m okay.”
Wukong joked that you should exercise more, and you reluctantly agreed.
Instead of using the Nimbus cloud for faster travel, you and Wukong decided to walk back to Keeper’s Shrine together. It was an opportunity to reconcile, and since there wasn’t much to catch up on about you being stuck in a void, you gave him space to discuss the recent downward spiral of his mentality.
He tip-toed around the notion that he descended into total abandon after your death. A core part of himself that was so carefully nurtured by years of religious practices and those around him was gone just from you closing your eyes. Even someone like him could understand the significance of that, the significance of you.
You read between the lines and didn't say anything. Instead, you changed the topic. You shifted to talking about trees, specifically about climbing them.
“I want to say–“ you paused briefly to reach a hand up for the tree branch above your head– “you are part monkey, so climbing a tree is an ability built into you at birth.”
"It remains that I can climb a tree with ease, and you cannot," he retorted, peering down at you leisurely from above, where he laid cross-armed on the tree branch you were trying (and failing) to get to.
His snarky remark didn't motivate you. It wasn't his intention to anyway, as he flashed you a mischievous grin when you clicked your tongue and glared at him. His tail danced below the branch, taunting you by curling and uncurling, creating the illusion of a support hook and taking it away. You heaved a sigh; you wouldn't have grabbed his tail to pull yourself up anyway.
"You know–"He sat up, his legs dangling over and his waist bent down to lean toward you. "You really need to train the muscles in your arms."
"Tsk. I bet you don't even know the anatomically accurate terms for the muscles," you muttered and then peeked away when you realized neither did you know them. "Shut up if you're not going to help me!"
Wukong laughed, but it sounded like a holler. Slapping a hand to his knee and staring at you with a gaze you shouldn’t trust, he pursed his lips and agreed. He extended his arm out for you to hold.
Brief words of encouragement (to receive his help, not to climb the tree) had to file out of his mouth for a few seconds before you decided he was trustworthy enough.
You sucked in a deep breath in preparation. Gripping the tree branch extra tightly with one hand, you let go of the other hand and pulled yourself up with all your might to grab onto Wukong. But he retracted his arm abruptly, leaving you to scramble the air with your fingertips.
You gasped, your forearm clumsily curling around the branch for your safety, your brows furrowing, and a string of scolding words ready at your opened mouth.
“Sun Wukong!” His shameless laughter drowned out your words. “I could have died!”
He paused immediately. The speed of the emotional shift was eerie. You awkwardly folded your upper lip between your teeth and shrunk your head between your shoulders at his widened, disbelieving eyes. You hadn't meant to say that. It wasn't retaliation. You said it because it made sense—if you fall from the height of this tree, you'll die.
“How could you joke about that?” Wukong whispered, and then he turned away dramatically, with the back of his palm against his forehead and the other wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “I told you how much I went through when I thought you were dead. You know how much you mean to me!”
It took you a moment. When you realized he was fooling around—still—you rolled your eyes.
“Haha, very funny.” You blew a large knot of air out of your mouth. “Help me up, damn it! Stop being annoying!”
He jolted at your shrill voice. A sneer crept onto his face, but when he reached for you again, he held your arm and swiftly hoisted you upward into the empty spot beside him. His hand hovered before your body as you adjusted to the seat.
"See? That wasn't so hard," you mused when you were done.
"You're being dramatic."
You chuckled through pursed lips, which made you sound triumphant. Looking over at him, your eyes squinted knowingly, you pointed out, "You remember what happened the last time you told me I was being dramatic, right?"
"Oh dear," he groaned, closing his eyes tightly and facing skyward with his hands on his head as if he were airing out his grievances to Heaven. "I'm never going to live that down, will I?”
"Not until I leave this place."
Wukong opened his eyes slowly.
Sky blue is a blinding color, or perhaps the Sun. He never cared to know. He didn't look up too much because of all the enemies who lived there. But he became curious recently. You made him curious. He wondered if your sky was as difficult to observe as his.
“What do you plan to do when you go back?” he asked.
It wasn’t something you thought about until he asked. Everyone was working to find a way to bring you home. Erlang Shen has, surprisingly, sent you a few update letters on his progress, occasionally requesting a written reply to gather more information.
You never thought it was an impossible feat; if there’s a way for you to arrive here, there’s a way for you to leave. But the operation completely slipped your mind these days.
"Eat an actual meal?" you slurred from a pout. "Sandwiches, french fries, ice cream…" A faux, tearful sob choked up your throat as your eyes squeezed, and you covered your head with your hands. "I'll kill for a can of Pringles even."
“It sounds like you miss home a lot,” he commented.
“Not really.” A disagreeing scrunch showed up briefly on your face as you shrugged. “Outside of the food, a select group of people… and the internet, I guess. I don’t think I miss it that much.”
Wukong nodded. Unlike you, he’s obsessively thought about your departure since Erlang Shen began sending letters to you through any form of a flight animal. He understood there wasn’t anything more to think about. Any emotional obstacles he encountered have been dissected and analyzed so thoroughly that, at this point, he was merely recycling his thoughts and worrying himself.
How wonderful would it be if you decided not to leave? If there wasn't anything you missed, why couldn't you stay? But he knew better than to ask you of such a huge favor—abandoning your life, leaving all that you've built behind, discarding your potential to be greater over there than here. For him or not, he couldn't ask you to do that, and he wouldn't.
His head was lowered, and his eyes fixated on his lap to avoid showing the microchanges in his expressions. But you weren't looking at him. When he discreetly turned to you, you were staring at the sky.
Contentment filled the air around you; you seemed to enjoy the view as if you never got to properly look at the blueness back where you came from. He smiled to himself and faced forward.
Whatever time you’ve got left with each other. Months, weeks, days, or even just hours—Wukong considers all seconds of it destiny.
He understood if something has to happen, then it shall.
“I’m going to miss you,” he said.
You widened your eyes faintly and turned to him.
His confession was unexpected. It was well-received because you somewhat returned the sentiment. When you leave, Wukong's world, full of magic and adventures, won't remind him of you. But your world full of stories and sculptures would always remind you of him. Rather than missing him, you supposed you would think of him a lot.
“I’m going to think of you,” you returned.
He smirked briefly and fiddled with his thumbs, letting the silence eat away at the end of that conversation before he opened his mouth to speak again.
“I’m still sorry,” he muttered, “about everything.”
It wasn't lost on you how groundbreaking it was that a character designed to be as arrogant as Wukong opened his mouth to apologize to you. You honestly didn't think you cared too much about what happened. The void didn't make you suffer. You fell asleep and then woke up—the process of them was painful but not enough to justify a grudge.
“过去已成往事,” you said. “Water under the bridge.”
Wukong raised a brow, a somewhat impressed hum sounding from his throat. “How many idioms did that pig teach you?”
"He didn't teach me. He just says it a lot."
"He does. Sometimes, I pretend I understand what he's saying, not to give him satisfaction. Wukong scoffed, the hair on his body almost trembling in distaste. "Oh, by the way," he said through a sharp inhale and sat up. "What is Pringles?"
“Oh! Uh, it’s a brand of chips, but you don’t know that.” You held up your hand and pressed your fingers into a thin line. “It’s about this big. Depending on the flavor, it can be salty, spicy, or even sweet–“ you inhaled before returning to your previous mourning position– “Oh my god, I might actually kill for a single Pringles chip.”
Wukong scoffed and crossed his arms. “You can’t even climb a tree.”
“Hey, strength is not the only factor that makes up a killer,” you argued. “There’s motivation. There’s, uh, cleverness, calmness, wit–“
“Out of all four of them, you only have one,” he mused, leaning toward your face. “And it’s none of the latter ones.”
You smiled sarcastically before abruptly slapping a hand to his shoulder, surprisingly shoving him off the tree branch. A gasp ripped through your mouth, and you covered it. Carefully but quickly, you leaned your torso forward to glance at the ground.
There wasn't a shadow of Wukong anywhere, which didn't make sense. The tree was tall, but it wasn't giant. You were still able to get a clear view of the ground! Either he has a secret hidden power of teleportation that he never told you about, even though it might have been handy in furthering the process of finding your way home, or he whisked himself away at the last second and went into hiding to prank you.
Couldn't say you missed those pranks, really.
"I know you better than believing you would fall to your death, Wukong, so come out–gasp!”
A sharp wind cut over your hair as the Ryui Jingu Bang extended in length at lightning speed. The leaves around you shifted, opening doors to let the sun in.
Wukong, crouching on the top of his weapon with impeccable balance, was elevated to your face level. He grinned with amusement as he waited for you to slowly reveal yourself from your forearms, which covered your face from the gusts of wind just now. You opened your eyes to see him; under the sunlight, he thought they looked whimsical like water.
"Hey," he greeted, bringing a hand off his knee to softly flick the tip of your nose with his fingers. "You know, I wish you would still worry about me a little, even though you know I'm competent."
"I do worry," you said. "I'll worry about you for a long time."
He whistled playfully. "For a long time?"
When you leave, there is no knowing how much chaos he'll cause and how much he'll suffer from it. You never wanted him to suffer, so you worry—you worry a great deal.
You worry about him, and you are afraid for him. You grieve for him, and you cheer for him. Here or there, together or separate, it'll all be for him.
"Yes," you confirmed.
Wukong grinned. It was silly, but his heart knocked with an irregular rhythm, and he was both flustered and bitter.
“Come on,” he reached a hand out, “let’s head back.”
You stared at him dubiously before taking his invite. He carefully tugged at your arm, and you let him, maneuvering your body to allow him more accessible access to pull you to his chest. His hand went under your knees, holding you sturdy, and you didn't bother to hold onto him for extra stability.
“Hey, you know–“ you looked up at his chin–“the last time you held me like this, I asked about those dreams you had of me. You still haven’t told me anything about that.”
He grimaced. He still didn’t plan to.
Wukong didn't want to leave you alone with Sanzang, but under Bajie's physically violent persuasion (repeatedly knocking his back with a rake), he caved and went with everyone else to the nearby river for some water.
You weren't nervous because you knew it wasn't a confrontation. There was nothing serious the monk had to confront you with; you didn't count his opinion of you being incompetent and weak as a subject of a confrontation. His problem with you being a hindrance to their journey was but his speculation.
His feelings were valid, but they were also of his own making.
Sitting across from him by the fireplace, you remained silent and waited for him to speak. He didn't look at you. Either he didn't want to, or he felt too awkward. You didn't mind. His white horse, all curled up a few feet behind him, was a sight for sore eyes.
"Erlang Shen sent us a letter."
"Oh?" You perked up. It has been a while since you last received news from him.
"They think they've found a way to bring you home, and he has requested that you go back to test the method."
Jaw dropping slowly at the surprising news, you managed a few absentminded nods before looking down at the ground.
Your shoes weren't new anymore. They were stained with dirt, dried petals, blood, and barely scraped-off substances. The bottom of it felt thin because of all the walking you've done. Perhaps you were wrong. The first thing you'd do when you return should be to get a new pair of shoes.
"I've been here long enough," you said. It was a thought that resulted from your shoes, perhaps. "They're bound to figure something out one of these days."
"I agree." Sanzang nodded. "Except, there is a problem."
You squinted your eyes and squeezed your hands together. It felt like your heart should beat faster, in rage, disappointment, or dissatisfaction, but you were steady as a log and calm as the mountain.
It didn't take him too long to reveal his intention, and you caught on immediately. No wonder he shooed everyone away and requested to speak to you privately. This wasn't a confrontation. This was a request, a shameful request.
It has been cleared up whether Sanzang hates you, but the solved mystery merely turned into a problem that could only be solved by your departure, which cannot happen until you lose the remainder of your lives.
Sanzang wanted you to deal with your immortality faster.
"I heard from Bajie that you find me bothersome," you said.
His face was still like a rock. He didn't so much as twitch a muscle. If the tension weren't evident, you'd find the time to admire the stoicism.
"How surprising that you didn't figure that out from my actions alone," he said. "But he tells the truth. I do find you bothersome to our original journey."
"You must understand I cannot be faulted."
He paused for a prolonged second, his fixated eyes a loose image of gears turning in his head.
You were correct—to some level, at least. You never asked to be here; teleportation was beyond your control. You never asked to consume the immortal peach; even he cannot blame you for falling for that insolent monkey's many tricks. You never asked to undergo excruciating pain; your human body would never be fit for magical trials.
Nothing was your fault, except everything was because you're here. Everything happened because you're here. It may not be your intention to be here, but you were—results trump intentions. That has always been the curse.
"You are not at fault, yes," Sanzang said. "But I blame you still. Just for being here, for being the clog that springs it all to life."
“But… that is not the only problem," Sanzang said.
You rolled your eyes and groaned, giving him a pointed raise of your brows to continue.
"You distract Wukong."
"That–" You poked your tongue at your inner cheek and squinted curiously. With an acknowledging hum and a sudden position that expressed intrigue in the conversation, you nodded at Sanzang. "Do you know about his dreams?"
It was the first time Sanzang's features ever shifted. He leaned back at your abrupt interest and frowned. "I don't know what you're speaking of."
"Really?" Your voice was low and dubious, but then you remembered Sanzang would, at any given chance, snitch on the blasted monkey he spoke so lowly of, and all your doubts vanished. He would have told you to embarrass the monkey. If he didn't, it was either he really disliked you or was telling the truth.
"He is distracted around you. Less cautious, more naive, and making careless mistakes. It’s as if he's lost his head.”
"Doesn't he always act like that?" you questioned. Walls of texts—blurred texts—from their novel flashed slowly before your eyes, and you faintly shook your head. "Actually… no. Wukong doesn't act like that. You…” The minor accusation fell weakly on your tongue. Your unwillingness to stir trouble made you backtrack, and you sighed. "Never mind."
“He enjoys your presence,” Sanzang said. “Surely, you’ve noticed that.”
"You don't think I got the memo when he fed me the immortal peach?" you grumbled through a sardonic chuckle. "I'm leaving, Sanzang. I shouldn't feed into it."
“How do you feel about him, then?”
Arching your neck to stare him down, you wondered why the monk would be interested in how you felt outside of hoping he'd find leverage against Wukong. It felt like a trap. A normal conversation with him about potentially romantic feelings felt like a trap. But, more importantly, you weren't sure how you felt about him, so you got the perfect excuse not to answer the question.
“I’m not telling you that,” you replied monotonously.
“That’s fair.”
"I also won't force myself to do what you want," you added firmly. "I will try my best at the temples, but if it's physically impossible to continue, I will stop whenever I want. I do not care about your peace. I won't push my limits for you. You'll just have to wait it out."
Silence engulfed the air.
“That’s fair, too,” he replied.
You have been here long enough to watch the seasons change.
If you had the exact date, you could tell if Winter already arrived or if it was still late Autumn. To combat the cold, they had brought you to a town mid-journey and bought you a thin cloak. White fur was sewn to the collar to form a makeshift scarf. Those were the only options; you'd rather not freeze in the occasional snow.
It kept you warm, and it kept you safe. You had pulled it closer around yourself when the Buddha you met this morning notified you that you were rid of your immortality.
“Can’t sleep?”
You peered up at Wukong, who sat beside you with one leg propped up.
"No," you replied.
"Me neither." He tapped his index finger against his knee. "Oh, by the way, it's not real fur."
"Huh?"
He turned to you and pointed at your cloak, which you then wrapped tighter around yourself.
"I went back to the store to ask. It wasn't the best idea. I nearly scared that old man half to death showing up at his home," he snickered faintly and rubbed the back of his head. He stared at the floor almost bashfully. "I noticed you were doubtful when we got you the cloak. That was the only problem I could think of, so I had to go back and make sure. I just kept forgetting to let you know."
You stared at him, subconsciously reaching up to touch the warm softness around your neck. A smirk played on your face, and you turned away to hide it. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"No problem," he muttered. "So! Tomorrow, early in the morning, you and I will head back to see that third-eyed freak! I can't say I'm excited to see him ever again!
You pressed your legs closer to your chest and pursed your lips. Wukong was trying too hard to fill the awkward silence that wasn't meant to be awkward. It was an anxious sadness—the anxiety of experiencing an impending sadness—bottled and replaced by awkwardness. It was a facade. You two just didn't know what to say to each other before the eternal separation.
A bitter taste developed around your mouth, forcing you to salivate uncomfortably. You swallowed the knots, feeling them drop past your throat and bounce on your heart to make it beat irregularly.
You enjoyed being around Wukong. If you allowed it, you might even let your feelings for him develop and eventually admit that you liked him. But you didn't allow that, as you've decided to prioritize returning home.
Nobody accused you of making that choice, not even Wukong. He would never. It was you who felt guilty for choosing to leave, and that still plagued you to this day.
"I'm so sorry," you said suddenly.
Wukong slowly met your eyes. The confusion initially sitting in them vanished when he saw your furrowed brows and tearful eyes—whimsical like water. He wasn't wrong about that. Panicked, his hands hovered around your face, and he wiggled about, unsure what to do.
"What happened? What did you do?" he asked. "I'm sure you didn't do anything bad. Don't worry, I'll help you, okay? I promise."
You closed your eyes and cried quietly to yourself; flat whimpers, breathy hiccups, tears that were too cold against your cheeks, and comically placed hiccups. Wukong raised his brows, amusement bubbling at the brim of his quirked-up lips upon realizing how ridiculous (just a little!) you appeared.
"Wukong, I wanna go home, but... but I–I don't want to leave. I don't–gasp, I don't want to leave you." You closed your eyes to squeeze more tears out. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should... I should just stay. I should stay here with you."
"Now, what about your Pringles chip?"
He chuckled when you cried harder at the mention of a past conversation. Putting his hand flat on the ground, he pulled himself closer to you and leaned his torso forward. His free hand gingerly wiped at your face, being extra aware of his sharp nails. You kept crying, and he didn’t feel like he could say anything to make you feel better besides agreeing to your sudden change of decision, but he couldn’t.
"Don't be silly," he said.
He would be happy to have you stay with him forever, but you didn't want that. You were doubting your decision now because of him because you didn't want to leave him. But Wukong understood more than anyone else that he wasn't the significant marker that made up who you were.
Your home, your school, your hobbies, your friends, your family, your potential career choice—those things made you who you were. Besides not wanting to be the reason for you making a spur-of-the-moment choice, he also wanted you to be surrounded by what you knew.
You wouldn't achieve anything great in his world, but you would in yours. You deserve that chance.
"You have to go home," he whispered. "You can finally eat a proper meal. I want you to eat well."
You sniffed. "But I'm never going to see you again.”
His hand paused and hovered around your face. The established consequence felt much more threatening when you said it out loud. He calmed his nerves, pressed his palm against your face, and then urged you to move toward him. You did. Releasing the cloak on your shoulder, you climbed onto his lap and lay on his chest, snuggling close for warmth.
“Yeah, I guess we won’t see each other again,” he muttered, looking ahead at the forest. He tilted his head, inhaling thoughtfully. “I’m okay with that.”
“You are?” Your brows furrowed.
“Not the way you’re thinking!” he exclaimed. “I just… we can’t change that. No matter how much we beg or–“ he looked down at you– “cry, that’s never gonna change. We live in different worlds. We probably weren’t even meant to know each other.”
You threw your head back on his arm and groaned lowly. “Why are you saying all of this now?”
“What? No! I just meant–“ He laughed and pushed your head up so you’d look at him. “You’re going home. You have to go home. If we can’t change the fact that we’ll never see each other again, I guess I’d rather you never forget me.”
“That…” You rolled your eyes. “That won’t be an issue for me, but you!”
“Me?”
“Yes, you! 可以不爱我 但绝不可以忘记我," you said. "You don't have to love me, but don't you dare forget me."
He cracked a smirk. "I do love you."
"It's for the later future!" you gently exclaimed as your head went slack against his shoulder. “Please don’t get in trouble, Wukong. Don’t get hurt, don’t do anything bad. I want you to live.”
“Oh, I’ll live,” he mused. “Not sure about the other ones, though.”
You knew those were wishful thinking. If his journey went the way the novels detailed, you also knew he would be okay. You weren't sure why you said those things—perhaps you wished him a smooth journey, but that wasn't why people admired him so much. Looking at him, you figured it's okay for him to get hurt occasionally. Hell, he might even deserve it once in a while, but you didn't say that out loud.
Wukong stared down at your suppressed grin, his hands soft around your limbs to remember their shape.
You didn't know that he would love you for far longer than you'd be here with him.
The Tanghulu almost fell apart when you bit into the strawberry on top. You caught the sugar pieces with your free hand.
The line leading toward an opened temple continued to move. It was mainly occupied by tourists, at least you believed so. There was hardly any reason for a local to be at a tourist attraction on a regular weekday except for you. You had a reason.
Taking a broad sweep across the crowded area, you arched your neck to look above the sea of heads at the food stands lined up in a row at the back. You chewed on the cold fruit as you debated what to eat next. There was a stall selling Liu Sha Baos, and next to it had an array of condiments set out for bagged Lou Meins. Humming in agreement, you decided to hit those stalls first after visiting the temple.
Erlang Shen’s method worked. He had suggested going back home the same way you came, which would be through turbulence on an airplane. Creating a makeshift turbulence was easy for just about anybody there, and you remembered Wukong waving goodbye at you a second before the clouds, picked up by the wind, covered your sight. And then you were gone—you suddenly woke up in the emergency room, startling a nurse.
Time barely passed when you were there. You slept through the rest of the flight after the turbulence, possibly causing inconvenience to the passengers seated by the window whenever they needed to use the restroom. They probably noticed something was wrong when you didn’t wake up even after the plane landed. They called an ambulance, and you had only just arrived at the hospital not too long ago.
You didn’t turn back. You visited your family and stayed with them for however long you had previously planned. It was a great way to distract yourself from the out-of-world experience. But nothing quite pulled Wukong off your mind.
You went hiking with your mother for the first time. The mountain reminded you of him. Heading to the supermarket and seeing the fruit section made you think of him. The way your grandpa talks reminded you of Bajie a little! And there was a newly released game about Wukong himself! You haven’t bought it yet. Maybe you would sooner or later.
“Hey! Can you walk?”
You jumped at the voice behind you and instinctively bowed in response, an apology leaving you like a ghost. Seeing that you were next ahead to admire the statue, you put the Tanghulu on the paper plate and back inside the plastic bag it came from. As you walked ahead, you dusted your hands on your jacket and stopped at the center of the opened temple. Looking up, you bit your lower lip to avoid laughing.
The Sun Wukong statue looked nothing like Sun Wukong.
But your memory made it look every bit like him.
“I found you,” you said. “I’m sorry it took so long. I was out of the country with my family. But I went to many places and ate a lot of good food.”
He stared back at you, unmoving. Your eyes softened at the replacement in your head—you wondered what he was doing now.
Subconsciously walking forward, your heart beating gently at your ear as you ignored the unnoticeable ‘Do Not Touch’ sign, you placed a hand on the statue’s feet and smiled.
“I remember you,” you whispered. “I love you.”
“Hey! Please don’t touch the statue!”
You turned your head at the warning. A strong breeze blew toward the direction of the voice just as you turned, enough to knock the security storming at you to the ground. You slowly released your hand from the statue, mouth slightly agape as you watched passersby help the security stand up. Pulling at the strap of your bag, you glanced at Wukong one last time, the weird coincidence lingering in your mind, and then you went to apologize.
Before you could walk out of earshot, you faintly heard a little boy speak to his mother behind you.
“Mom! Did you see that? The words on his staff lit up just now!”
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Hello! Can you write a little drabble of Leon saving his best friend(crush) from her crazy ex? Protective Leon for the winnn
I sure can! I hope you enjoy it, thank you for the request- it's a little bit longer than a drabble because I got carried away :)
Leon Kennedy x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Toxic relationship, Crazy Ex, Friends - Lovers, Abusive relationships, Wounds, light violence, Protective Leon, Abuse (Not from Leon), (Partner is a Boyfriend) Please take warning when reading Under the cut! My Dms are open if there's a tag you think I've missed or need someone to talk to :)
Leon grumbled as he opened the door to his apartment, his muscles aching from his last mission. He almost gave up and chose to sleep on the couch but after deciding to give his back some release, he stumbled to the bedroom, allowing the soft comfort of his bed to envelope him as he flopped on it. He groaned in relief, finally shutting his eyes to let the jet lag catch up and fall into a long sleep. Only for his phone to ring in his pocket. The vibrations were angry against his leg, a constant reminder that duty calls. He pried the thing from where it was trapped against his thigh and the bed. He flipped it open bringing the speaker to his ear before grumbling out "Agent Kennedy?"
If you were in dire need of his help you would have laughed or made a joke at how formal he sounded; instead, a whimper left your lips. You brought your hand over your mouth stifling the noise in case you woke up your Ex who had now passed out on the sofa. Broken glass and furniture littered the room, your arm having small scraps where some had caught you in the ordeal. You didn't mean to anger him, you were just asking what he wanted for dinner which distracted him and caused him to lose focus on his game. Apparently that resulted in a full-blown tantrum, he threw anything he could at you whilst spitting insults in your face. You cleared your throat before speaking again, your voice barely above a whisper - half worried that the phone wouldn't even pick it up. "Leon, can you come and get me, please? I need help"
Leon shot up immediately, any weariness that lingered on his body gone at the sound of your voice. "Hey, where are you? I'm on my way" He said, checking his pockets for his keys before leaving his house. He opted for the bike, choosing speed to get there faster. "I'm at his house, he just...I don't know Leon, he just got mad. I need to leave whilst he's asleep" You whimpered. The fear in your voice broke his heart, his brain already raking through all the roads to get there faster. "Wait for me outside okay? I'm on the bike so I'll be there as fast as I can"
You tried to go outside, but the creaking of the front room woke him. Leon could hear the arguments when he pulled up outside, the front door cracked open ever so slightly. Without hesitation he barged in, his footsteps noisy as the glass crunched beneath his boots. You couldn't tell if the sight of him terrified you or gave you relief. You knew he would come, he always did your Leon. Perhaps this time he would stay, chose you to talk about everything he went through instead of pushing you away. You got tired of waiting. Waiting for him to decide what to do, what he wanted. The two of you got into an argument a few months ago, he was drunk and begging for your forgiveness. Perhaps you should have accepted his offer, his promises of self-improvement. Then maybe you wouldn't be trapped here, against the wall with the breath of your supposed lover on your neck as his dirty hands pinned you against the wall. Did he not notice the tears that trickled down your cheeks? The way your frame was shaking?
Leon acted before he thought it through, dragging him away by the collar of his shirt. He stumbled to the ground with a loud thud, his body a heap against the couch. "Back off" Leon growled, his body stiff as he stood in front of you daring the man you claimed to love to fight. His eyes were piercing, and his brows lowered as he stared. It was almost terrifying but in a beautiful way. You looked at the small wrinkles on his face, the slight stubble that had grown in over his time away. He smelled of gunpowder, you could feel the heat from him as he moved back shielding you as the dickhead rose again. His steps were swayed as he moved towards Leon, his fist clenched as he prepared to swing but Leon was faster. One hit and he thumped to the floor again now unconscious and with a black eye.
Leon turned to you, his hands gentle as they landed on your biceps. His eyes softened as he looked you over, taking into account all the small cuts and bruises that now littered your skin. Instead of speaking, he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you holding you close. Your body slumped against him as you began to cry, your hands desperately clutching at him. You could hear his coos as he tried to calm you down. "I've got you"
"He won't hurt you anymore, I've got you now"
Upon returning to his place, he sat you on the sofa before leaving to find a medical kit. You scanned the room spotting the duffle bag abandoned at the door along with all of his other gear. Guilt ate at your chest as you realised he had just returned from another grueling mission. Leon walked back in, his browns pinched together in concentration and concern...the two looked so similar you often found it hard to tell the difference. "I'm sorry I called you..you look like you just got back" you mumbled looking at your hands instead of him. You felt the sofa dip as he sat down, the medical supplies laid out on the table. His touch was feather like as he gently grasped your hand, pulling it into his lap forcing you to look at him. "How long has he been like this?"
His voice cracked as he spoke the words, his own guilt at letting a petty argument get in the way. He should have checked on you, messaged you, begged you to talk to him but then maybe that would have made things worse, for that was why your ex was angry in the first place. The two of you had always been close, meeting in the mess of Raccoon City you shared trauma allowing you to rely on each other. Everything Leon went through was so you and Sherry didn't have to, and you turned him away after Spain because your partner was jealous.
"A few months, I thought he would change...this was the worst"
The tears threatened to spill from your waterline as you held his gaze. Apologies ready to spill from your lips the more you looked at him. Leon was angry you didn't call him, angry you were going through all of this to add onto the shit the world had already thrown at you. Yet your kindness never wavered, never changed. "You don't have to worry about him anymore, you can stay here"
He returned his attention to the small cuts, making sure they were clean or putting witch hazel on the bruises to help them heal. His touch was never firm, only showing how caring he was. Leon looked at you when he finished, unspoken words and emotions held in his gaze again. You felt your heart flutter as you looked at him. "Leon..."
He silenced the rest of your sentence with a kiss, a quick one, almost as if he hadn't meant to do it. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...I mean I did...but-"
You cut him off with another kiss, this time your fingers weaved into his blond strands. The events of the day melted into passion as he forced his love, promises of devotion into the kiss. Promises of a better future
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil fanfiction#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy x you
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Do a possessive Pablo smut?
VICTORIA'S SECRET - GAVI
summary: it's your birthday and Gavi buys you something from Victoria's Secret which you'll try out immediately.
a/n: I got a bit carried away, sorryy, not proof read!!
warning: A LOT LOT OF SMUT, 18+
"I don't know what to buy her for her birthday." Gavi put his hands into his pocket while he walked around with Pedri, Fermin, and Ferran.
"Buy her lingerie, trust me, women are head over heels for lingerie from men." Pedri mumbled and Gavi looked at Ferran for a confirmation. However, Ferran made a weird face and as he looked at Gavi he shook his head.
"Don't believe him," Ferran told Gavi, Pedri then raised his eyebrows as Fermin just watched the drama happen.
"What do you mean don't believe me? Trust me, I know what I'm talking about." Pedri tried to convince Gavi. Fermin laughed and he looked like he was about to say something.
"Says the one who only has one-night stands. You only get them horny, not in their normal state." Fermin said to which he earned a mad look from Pedri. However Gavi and Ferran burst out laughing.
"Bro woke up and chose violence," Ferran mumbled after he was done laughing.
"Okay, you know what, let's check out Victoria's Secret, I'll buy her lingerie and something else too." Gavi decided as soon as he saw the Victoria's Secret store.
"Sounds good to me." Pedri crossed his arms. "Imagine how that looks, 4 men looking at bras and panties."
"Looks like 4 gentlemen buying their girlfriends something," Ferran mumbled.
"Pedri for his one-night stands," Fermin added and Pedri hit the back of his head as the other two started laughing again.
"Okay let's go." Pedri mumbled and sped up his pace a bit. Gavi walked inside and quickly a woman who worked for the store walked over to them.
"Hey, can I help you?" She asked and Gavi nodded his head. Fermin and the others looked around the store while standing next to their friend.
"I'm looking for lingerie." He mumbled in a bit of a quieter voice. The woman smiled at his awkwardness and nodded her head.
"What color are you looking for?" She asked with the same grin on her face. Pedri looked at Gavi with a small smile on his lips. He loved how awkward and shy Gavi sometimes gets.
"Red" Ferran shot Pedri a look and Pedri raised his brows. Fermin shook his head with a smile as Pedri also made eye contact with him.
"Okay," The women looked around and then started walking to the lingerie. The four boys followed her. "What bra size does she have?" She asked.
"I don't know but they fit into my hands." Gavi lifted his hands and looked at them while Ferran, Fermin, and Pedri burst out laughing. Gavi looked back at them and found them laughing and holding their stomach.
The woman who worked at the store nodded her head as she tried to hide her smile. "Do you think this will fit her?" She asked.
"Wait let me call her, I don't want to buy anything wrong." Gavi pulled out his phone and Pedri shook his head while the corner of his lips were still pointing upwards.
Gavi called and dialed your number and you picked up almost immediately.
"Hey Love, I have a question, what's your bra size?" Gavi asked and Pedri stood closer to him so he would be able to hear what you said.
"Straight to the point." You laughed a bit which made Gavi smile too. "It's B." You said and Gavi nodded his head even tho you couldn't see him.
"Thanks love, bye, love you." Gavi hung up and then looked at the woman. "It's B."
"Vale, we have these in B and also a few of the blue ones if you want to check that out." She pointed at the red ones and blue ones.
"Thank you so much." He said and the woman walked away again, Gavi looked at the lingeries and one stuck out of all the others.
"I'll take this one." he immediately walked over and grabbed it, it was a red, two-piece lingerie.
"Sexy, I'd like to see you wear it Pablito." Pedri smiled a bit while Gavi went to pay and the three boys followed him.
"Gavi is gonna turn into one of Pedri's one-night stands-" Right after Fermin finished his sentence, he received a hit on the back of his head by Pedri.
"Don't act like you're not having one-night stand. I know what kind of kid you are." Pedri pointed his finger at Fermin who was too scared to say anything and just stood there.
"Okay come on let's go." Gavi mumbled after he paid and received the lingerie in a bag. He couldn't wait any longer, he had to see you wear it.
Sadly he just HAD to wait.
So at midnight just after he congratulated you, he gifted you the shoes you've always wanted but were too expensive.
"But what did you need my bra size for?" You asked and he smiled while grabbing under the bed and pulling out a Victoria's Secret bag.
Your eyes widened and you couldn't help but smile. Then you covered your face with your hands while Gavi gave you the bra and the red thong.
"Wear it" Gavi mumbled in a strict voice and you couldn't help but smile. You took them from his hands, winked at him, went into the bathroom, and got changed.
Gavi meanwhile took off his shirt and changed into some Barcelona shorts.
Just as you opened the door to the bedroom again, you noticed that the lights were switched off. The only light coming from behind you is from the bathroom.
"Fuck," Gavi whispered as you walked closer to him and spun around. He got a perfect look at your tits and your ass, he felt himself get even harder by just looking at you.
"Fuck what?" You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck while going closer to him.
"If you won't stop this, you." Gavi gave you a look while he put his hands on your waist and looked at your body. "Why do you never wear lingerie? I'm about to come into my pants." Gavi mumbled and his hands moved from your waist down to your hips. Then he suddenly pulled you closer and you felt his boner poke against your skin.
"Cause I want you to come inside of me and not into your pants." You mumbled and Gavi only laughed a little bit.
"You look awesome in everything, how do you manage to do that hm? How did I manage to pull you?" He asked you, but the only response you gave was a small kiss on his lips. After that, you stood with your back facing the bed and then sat down. He looked at you as you opened up your legs and he saw that red lingerie sitting perfectly between your legs.
He inhaled sharply as he looked at you, and then his eyes moved up to your face again after you closed your legs.
"You need to show something, Amor" You mumbled and then turned on your stomach while grabbing your phone from the nightstand.
Gavi was left standing there, his boner in his pants and an awfully good look on your ass.
Gavi shook his head and walked closer to the bed until eventually he crawled over you. Your hips were between his legs ad he had his hands on your ass, groping them slightly.
"Show what? How much I love you?" Gavi leaned down to kiss your back and he pushed your hair out the way so he'd be able to reach your neck too.
"For example." You said in a bit of a teasing tone and then turned around.
"You're the birthday girl, do you wanna have control?" Gavi smiled and looked down at you."I'd like to try, but I can't guarantee anything." You laughed and Gavi just nodded his head and then left himself fall down next to you on his back.
"If you can't handle it just say so, you know I love to be the one in control." He turned his head to look at you getting on top of him.
You put extra much weight on his crotch with your hips and then leaned forward to his face. His lips felt soft on yours as soon as you connected them.
Then you pushed your lips harder, more passionate, needier. He grabbed your ass and started groping it as you moved your hips back and forth slowly.
"Take off my pants princesa" Gavi pushed you back a bit and you felt his hard dick below you. You hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his shorts and boxer shorts at the same time and pulled them down.
His hard dick jumped out of his boxers and hit his lower abdomen as you just smiled. You then sat down on his lower stomach and pulled him into a kiss. However, you lifted up your hips a bit and then pumped your hand up and down Gavi's dick a few times. Then you rubbed your clit with his tip and then eventually you pulled away.
He was holding your hips as he rocked his own hips a bit upwards, needy to be inside of you.
"Tranquilo Amor, tranquilo." You smiled and then pushed his tip in. Then just to tease him you started moving your hips in a circular motion before sinking down on him fully.
A loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt him filling you out and his dick poking your cervix. You felt him so deep inside of you that you needed to regain a bit of strength.
Gavi wasn't doing any better, well he was basically floating with so much pleasure as he looked down at where you two were connecting. Skin slapping was heard in the entire house probably while you threw your head back.
"You're doing so well." Gavi praised you, and then you looked down at him, his face sweaty and his hair sticking to his forehead. You ran your hands along his abs which were shiny as to also being covered in sweat.
It only took you a few more movements after you felt your high come up and he noticed it too. So he held your hips in one place and thrusted up into you at a rapid speed.
"Fuck Gavi-" You moaned out and then leaned forward as you came. You basically collapsed on top of him as he came too. The warm load of his cum filled you up as you were still on top of him.
"You did so great" Gavi praised you again as you tried to catch your breath. He proceeded to plant a few kisses on your neck and everything he could reach without moving you.
You sat up on his lower stomach after you regained your strength and caught your breath.
"So 18 more rounds?" Gavi asked with a smile as he squeezed the flesh of your hips a bit.
Your eyes widened at his question and your mouth hung slightly open. "Why do you want to do 18 more rounds?"
"Well, you turned 19 today, I thought it'd be fitting." He laughed a bit and you smiled while you shook your head.
"I don't care, but I definitely won't be on top." You said and felt Gavi's hand run up on your back. He quickly turned the two of you around so that you were caught below him.
"You're a bottom then?" He smiled a bit as he was now the one looking down at you. A soft smile was visible on your lips as you pushed his hair back.
"I love bottoming out, to be honest." You laughed and he winked at you as he looked down at your body.
"So are you in for another round?" His gaze shifted from your body to your eyes again.
To be honest, you didn't wanna tell him that this was exactly how you had planned out this night in your hand.
"Always" You mumbled and he nodded his head as he grabbed down to massage his balls and pump his hand up and down his dick a few times.
Then he pushed your thong aside and started teasing your clit with his tip. "Gavi!" You told him as he then removed his dick from your clit and looked at you with a smile.
"Okay, sorry, sorry." He pushed himself inside of you again and you arched your back up against his body.
"Okay, you can move." You mumbled and Gavi started thrusting in and out of you at a rapid speed.
"You're doing so well, hold still for me, yeah?" Gavi praised you and he then removed one of his hands from the bed and pushed himself up onto his knees.
He then pulled you closer by your thighs and then put one of your legs over his shoulder.
That allowed him to reach deeper inside of you and you felt his tip hitting your cervix.
You whined as he did so, Gavi looked at you with a bright smile and then put one of his left hands on your lower stomach. He pressed down on there and you threw your head back as you gripped the sheets tightly into your fists as you felt your second orgasm wash over you. He kept fucking you through your orgasm which meant that you moaned out louder than before. He sent you into oversensivity and you clenched around him which made it a bit more difficult for him to move. But he thrusted inside of you, no matter what you did, and as his thrusts became slower you knew that he was close.
He finished inside of you and you whined as he pulled out of you for a second.
Then just a few seconds later he pushed himself inside of you again and made sure that you finished too, for the third time.
Gavi then stopped for a few seconds and put his head on your stomach, just below your chest.
"I'm suggesting a change of location," Gavi mumbled and you smiled a bit as he lifted his head up again.
"What location are you suggesting?" You asked. "I was thinking of shower sex, we could also do the whirlpool tho." Gavi smiled and your lips immediately curled up into a smile.
"How about both?" That answer made Gavi excited and he stood up. "I'd say shower first, since it's closer." Gavi lifted you off the bed and walked into the bathroom with you.
He put you down onto the counter as he then took off your thong and he got on his knees in front of the counter. He pushed your legs wide open and started licking your clit.
You moaned softly as you had your hand in his brown locks and then he started fucking you with his thong soon after.
You felt as he also started rubbing your clit with his other hand which he wasn't holding your tight with.
"Gavi, seriously, this night is gonna be so long-" You whined as you felt his tongue accelerate.
"That's what our goal is no?" He looked up at you, he looked so hot, his face full of your juices, his cheeks red, his lips plumped up and slightly red too.
"Mhm" You mumbled and he smiled, that look made you clench around nothing. He then pushed two fingers inside of you and kept licking your clit.
That made you orgasm for the fourth time that night. Your legs started shaking as Gavi stood up to lick the remaining substances off of his lips and you swore that you could have came a fifth time at just the sight of him.
"Let's go into the shower," he said after a few minutes of massaging your tighs. You threw your head back and only laughed as he stood closer to you.
Your legs quickly wrapped around his torso as he lifted you up and walked into the shower with you.
He put you down but you were still hanging onto him since your legs were barely able to hold you.
He pinned you against the wall as he turned on the water.
You smiled as you looked at him, by his gaze shifting from the showerhead to your body from time to time and by his dick twitching, you could tell. You're not done by far.
#barca#gavi#pablo gavi#fc barcelona#football#futbol#fanfic#mustread#espana#gavi x reader#pablo paez gavi#gavi smut#smut#spain national team#spain#barca fc#barcelona#fc barca#fanfiction#futból
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Phil woke up and immediately chose violence.
#FitMC#Philza#QSMP#Chayanne#Fit#Phil#December 4 2023#These frickin guys lmaoooo#I love them they're such haters sometimes. It's wonderful to watch#Their friendship is great I love the way their jokes bounce off each other so easily#Q
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Nono im speechless. This MAN came out after being sealed in a fucking dice for like at least a month and immediately made fun of the the King of Courses by making a 'your mom' joke, invited w the stupidest most gentle smile ever his deads ex boyfriend walking corpse to a date on Dec 24th aka Christmas Eve aka Japans equivalent to Valentines day aka also the anniversary of said boyfriends death to beat each other up, apparently completely obliterated?? someone??? and is now going to beat the shit out of his practically adopted child whos body is also being possessed by also said King of Courses. It's not even that he woke up and chose violence he just went absurdly INSANE
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#jjk spoilers#jjk 221#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#yuuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#jjk sukuna#jjk manga#AND HE IS EVEN PRETTIERRR#I LOVE <3TITS<3
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Sofie Plays Cult of the Lamb but She Writes out a Play-by-Play instead of Recording Anything: Part 1
Obby was hanging out with me for this one!
Still dying laughing over the fact that the only follower I can bully is the follower my beloved boyfriend made.
Unlocked Knucklebones. Won against Ratau at 60-35 points. Immediately started getting really excited about destroying Narinder in this game once I indoctrinate him and Obby gently broke the news that Ratau is bad at the game.
New headcanon unlocked: Ratau goes easy on the Lamb whenever playing together.
Clicked manually to collect each individual piece of divine inspiration and Obby almost exploded.
Me: Aw man, I forgot I have to sacrifice someone :< Obby: *Grabbing the sides of his webcam* ME ME ME KILL ME
Legitimately started discussing with Obby how to sacrifice his birdman avatar in the most cost-effective manner.
Questing to get an outhouse and still haven't unlocked it. Tragic.
OBBY LEFT TO GRAB DINNER AND PUT ON A SUBWAY SURFERS GAMEPLAY VIDEO WHILE HE WAS GONE "SO (I) WOULDN'T GET BORED"
Jooryn seems to be becoming friends with Amdusias. This feels thematically relevant.
ENTERED DARKWOOD TO FINALLY GO ON A CRUSADE AFTER BLESSING ALL MY FOLLOWERS AND GOT HECKIN LESHY'D. I HATE THIS FOREST
I'm a pro gamer. Trust me.
Obby slowly added onto the Subway Surfers gameplay video overlay a Family Guy clip compilation overlay, an overlay of PMD: EoS gameplay, and an overlay of a video explaining the functions of ADHD. Meanwhile, I was spinning heart emojis around his face in my head.
The enemies Leshy keeps summoning know how to dodge roll. Meanwhile I can't even remember how to summon curses for longer than two seconds. Good thing spamming Attack will definitely always work for me!
Obby: I knew you'd like that guy! Me: "Like" is a strong word.
Entered Leshy's boss fight and watched the opening cutscene while having this exchange:
Me: Ohhh he has fuzzy legs!!! (Leshy transforms into his boss form) Obby: He no longer has fuzzy legs :(
Just got our first elderly follower! I immediately ascended him. Sorry Artre, you looked too much like Sonic the Hedgehog.
Heket woke up and chose violence! Girl same!
@billycorn OH NO
I survived the miniboss fight :) I did great :)
Follower Obby just lives for the bit, huh
First follower romance! Nomre, the first follower to join the cult, was proposed to by Gusion. Cute!
SICK JOOTY!!!!
Unlocked the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep because Nomre wasn't happy with the flowers Gusion proposed with, and now I need beets and cauliflower in the next three days to help move things along.
@onlyhereforghosttrick I'm so sorry. This seems to be what happens when you're only here for Ghost Trick in Cult of the Lamb.
WHY DO THE BISHOPS ALL HAVE IT OUT FOR BILLYCORN
Spent an unholy amount of time delving through the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep looking for beets and cauliflower. I almost ended up unlocking Shamura's boss fight in the hunt. Kallamar got his cowardly reputation when he saw me raging through his domain in search of cauliflower and only growing more powerful and furious the longer I went without finding it.
Anyhoo. Got beet seeds and some cauliflower eventually :3
#better the wool au#(kinda. The Lamb from it stars in that doodle at the top)#cult of the lamb#cotl lamb#cotl ratau#cotl leshy#cotl heket#cotl kallamar#cotl follower#sofie liveblogs stuff#stuff by sofie
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Could u write a sukuna fluff where he helps reader take down her braids and do her wash day 🙈
Debrief: i loved writing these cute little 1k word sfw fluff… in sukunas way
“What is it the braids!”
“Say it again and imma punch you in the throat” you huff stabing your braid with the tip of the tail comb wishing you could stab it into something else. You regret the day you introduced your boyfriend to kendrick lamar and worse explained the kendrick and drake beef. You remember the exact moment he decided to become a fan, it was exactly one month ago.
“So he woke up and chose violence?” He ask with a wicked smirk on his face. “Just started atttacking him through the music leaving psychological scars and making everyone hate him?” He follows up and you nod bopping along to the beat of not like us playing through the speakers of your rose gold macbook.
“Yeah a real menace but the people love him” you tell him swooping your edges with the mini cheetah print brush careful not to make it to big so you wouldnt become the next meme on social media.
“I approve” his wicked smile grows until he hears a specific part that makes his eyes light up.
But that was a month ago, and even then you were holding on to these braids and knotless werent something to hold on to. Especially with the boho hair pieces getting tangled from you and your boyfriends sex sessions no amount of swooped edges, manipulated styles or headbands could save the style.
Unfortunately he loved you with these braids, loved that you had them a maroon color. The same color of his eyes. He thinks you look like a goddess but he would never tell you that can’t have you to arrogant.
So when a white man at the grocery store tells you he loves the braids, you immediately cancel date night with your boyfriend and head home to take them down. Enough was enough and that was all the sign you needed.
Sukuna isnt happy though and why would you expect him(derogatory) to just be okay with it and leave you alone.
“Woman, explain” he ask with an annoyed look… well he always looks annoyed, he almost misses the section in your hair, it is very small, of braids thats youve already taken out.
“A white man complimented my hair so i have to take it down” you explain and when you dont offer any further explanation except just a blank stare with a tiny pout he nods. He knew better than to ask anything about your hair.
He barges in, in his true fashion kicking off his shoes at the door before sitting where you were sat.
“Uraume is good at hair stuff… want me to call them?” He offers not sure of how to help when your mood visibly sinks further but you just shake your head.
“No i just… its so much its going to take days and im sorry for canceling i just—“ your eyes begin to water and Sukuna doesnt know how to handle this. Hes use to his big strong girlfriend who even though shes nearly a foot shorter you werent scared of him, scared to threaten him or scared to put him in his place. You problem yelled at him more than he yelled at people plus he would never forget the day you put him in a headlock. It kinda turned him on.
“Sweetheart let me help you then, put on some of your music that you like and sit between my legs like you make your neice do when you do your hair and ill pay to get your next style, okay” he rushes out pulling you to him in a hug and he hears you sniffle. For a woman that bullied a known menace to society you could be so sensitive sometimes but he loves that. Loves when you run into his big strong arms for protection.
“Can we get food?” You sniffle into his shirt and he chuckles squeezing you tighter.
“As long as you dont get your nasty snot on my shirt” he teases making you laugh.
“What is it the—nggh! Did you just bite me?!” He hisses tugging a little rougher on one of your braids making you whine. It didnt hurt but you were so tired, your arms were in pain from holding them up so long and your neck from leaning it against his muscular and meaty thigh.
“I told you stop saying that” you hiss dropping your arms tired of sitting here your butt was hurting also there was only but so many angles you could sit in. He promised booty rubs an hour ago but you had so many braids you were never going small again.
“Ugh you are the worst client ever, youre actually never allowed back to my malevolent salon of doom” he mimics the way you play pretend with your niece over he sees you getting frustrated again and your immediate cable lets him know that was the right thing to say and he’s proud.
You run your fingers through the back of your head pretending to scratch trying to see how many he has left when you notice he’s actually completely done before a loud smack and your hand is stinging.
“Did you just pop me?!” You're shocked, and with the comb nevertheless?! Oh he was spending too much with you learning too much about you and your mannerisms.
“Yeah and ill do it again, now let me tell you about the drama that happened at the kfc outside the tattoo shop since you didn’t want to answer my calls” he scoffs before starting on the front section of your hair.
“So i guess this guy and his boyfriend were breaking up… actually the white haired guy I’ve seen before I’m pretty sure he’s the dad of Yujis classmate… or something but the kid looks like the other boyfriend… and i think he wanted to fight?” He rambles but you’re getting lost.
“Wait, who wanted to fight, the kid?” You ask stretching your legs out infront of you with a small yawn.
“What? No, the white haired guy!” He sucks his teeth pulling your head back so your eyes are on him. “I’m not sure what you’re worse at taking out braids or keeping up with drama.”
You don’t mention that you’re going to want his help washing your hair too just let him keep talking about his kfc drama with unnamed characters and half sentences.
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𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo
˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ lovesick ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1936
he looked unreal, all tanned with his beautiful eyes half closed as he looked down, full lips unconsciously forming a pout. his chest was bronzed and openly displayed for anyone with two eyes and a drooling mouth.
you wanted to eat him alive.
it was supposed to be a peaceful morning at your parents' beach house on the coast but, apparently, your boyfriend chose violence that day. with sleepy eyes and a drowsy appearance, you immediately realized that you accidentally fell asleep while trying to get tanned by the summer sun in the morning. luckily, the book you were reading fell from your grip at some point and didn't leave a funny mark on your stomach for woo-jin to laugh about later.
how can one person be so beautiful, inside and out? was he even real, or will you inevitably wake up to find the space beside you empty, his presence fading with your dreams?
you get goosebumps just imagining it.
feeling your eyes on him, gun-woo looked up from his drawing, a big smile forming on his pink lips.
"you look like shit, babe".
oh wow, what a day to feel loved.
"fuck off". you grumbled while sitting up and picking the book from the floor next to you, gun-woo's eyes never leaving your bikini form. "what took you so long to get here?". you asked him pouty.
"your mother asked me to move the sofa three times so she could do her pilates session in the living room". gun-woo couldn't help but laugh at his answer, never imagining he'd be in this position someday.
it was your first family trip as a couple, and also the first time gun-woo went on a plane and traveled since his school's excursion in 9th grade to say the best. you were happy to see him happy. it was thrilling to see the man in another setting, different from the usual gym clothes or café outings you guys first got to know each other. you considered yourself a good girlfriend, providing these opportunities for both of you while so young, even if gun-woo was paying for basically everything other than the house you were staying. you were a good girlfriend, right?
so why the living hell was he acting so mean towards you?
"i'm sorry about that". you grimaced embarrassingly because of your mother. "just because you have an insane amount of muscle she thinks you're her personal guard". gun-woo laughs. that bright innocent smile that makes his eyes disappear.
fuck you kim geun-woo for being so mean.
"my mom used to say we should never neglect help from others, including offering help in the first place". he tells you with innocence, a sudden wave of sympathy running through his veins strong enough to make him vocalize his thoughts. you were too accustomed with this side of him, being together for almost 6 months. “she also used to say that we always must look for the best in people”.
he was too pure. so why could you only think other things like what was this man saying? and why wasn't he kissing your mouth right now?
you embarrassingly found yourself in this predicament more times than you could count with your boyfriend.
the sound of his voice didn't shake you out of your sleepy daze, looking up at him with eyes full of love and wonder. like a lovesick puppy whose brain didn't seem to register the spoken words, too caught up in its own reverie.
when he didn't get the reply he was hoping for, gun-woo finally put down the pen and paper and leaned closer to you, your knees now touching and you almost choked on your saliva.
you loved him too much. and he was so hot.
“y/n?” he asked softly, placing a hand on top of your lap, the feel of his surprisingly cold hands against your warm skin almost making you shiver.
"i was so worried when i woke up and didn't see you, figured you'd be reading here". his smile continued to be nothing other than soothing, comforting, and exclusive.
exclusive for you and only you.
"woo-jin tried facetiming early this morning but i was still sleeping, i kind of feel bad for him not being able to come this time". he rambles. "and i also feel bad for sleeping so late, i hope your parents don't mind it. yesterday was a good day".
of course it was a good day. it was gun-woo's first ever private flight and you couldn't put your mind around the fact that this man's whole life was a huge unfair exposure to only the bad in life. you wanted to cry suddenly. cry for everything cruel that happened to him. cry for his still pure but poorly scarred heart. cry for his smiles and goodmorning pecks. cry for his fucking six-pack and spy reflexes.
cry because he was yours. exclusively.
without saying a word, you gently pulled his hands away before wrapping yours around his shoulders in a much-needed hug, the love you felt for him overwhelming all your senses. his arms found their place around your waist immediately, pulling his body closer and pouring all his love into you in return.
it was his fault for dating such a crybaby and he knew it, because the second he touched your waist and ribs, the boxer knew you were about to cry because of your uneaving breathing.
gun-woo hesitated for a second, giving your body another squeeze before finally speaking.
"are you okay, princess?" his voice was calm as he gently stroked your hair, knowing damn well you got emotional in the mornings sometimes. his 'bedroom voice' - that's what you called, don't judge - was enough to make your eyes sting, causing you to snuggle closer to his neck with a nod.
"'m okay".
you loved his bedroom voice - again, don’t judge the name you came up with -, it was special for you. it held something ethereal in the fact that he dropped a few octaves to talk to you and only you. the intimacy he could bring only by speaking more calmly to you, everywhere you both were together and tangled in each other's arms like right now.
everything was different. the setting, the weather, the clothes - it made you realize for the very first time in the six months of your relationship that dating itself shouldn't be overwhelming, tiring, or burdensome.
dating should feel like the books you grew up reading and the movies you grew up watching. anything other than that, it didn't belong to you in the first place.
you felt so comfortable in his embrace like you were floating on a fluffy cloud as the sun was slowly disappearing, so warm and safe. it was just the best, being with the man you loved, and nothing could come close to how you were feeling in his presence, surrounded by his unconditional love and care.
fuck, you were sounding like a corny teenager and it was embarrassing.
"y/n, you're going to tell me what's on your mind, aren't you?". the sound of his concern was evident in his voice, reminding you that - even if this man's thighs were the size of your head -, he still was worried and soft on the inside type of boyfriend.
you were his first girlfriend. gun-woo didn't know how to do things usually.
without missing a beat, you looked him in the eye for the question.
"i love you, gunwoo-ya". you started to pour your eyes out for no reason. you blamed the hormones, your mom would blame the weather and woo-jin would blame the books you read but you didn't care.
the corners of his mouth turned up in response, a soft, sincere smile stretching across his face because he was also just that: a lovesick puppy.
"i love you too". gun-woo wasn't expecting that, you could tell. he was too nonchalant for his own good sometimes.
like who the fuck wears pink bright shorts at his parents-in-law’s beach house? WITH NO SHIRT ON.
his eyes were full of love as he looked at you, the sun making the already beautiful landscape even more dazzling as time seemed to stop once more, everything but him disappearing at that moment. not being able to wait any longer, gun-woo then leaned his head up, pouty lips brushing yours teasingly for a moment before connecting in a proper kiss.
his touch was soft and tender, brushing against your mouth as he had so many times before, your tongue darting out to meet his briefly as his arms around your waist pulled you even closer. the sudden change in height since you got up from the bench was a different angle for both of you.
a silent moan escaped your lips as your barely clothed breast brushed against his, giving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue properly inside your mouth for another taste.
his hands squeezed your sides lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to feel good, and just as you were about to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss, he slowly pulled back, making you want his lips more.
a smile appeared on his face at that, the smugness behind it pouting in response. you straddled him so your faces were on the same level and suddenly the boxer went exe.error404
"jagi, your mom-". he spoke, his hot breath hitting your face with each exhale. you smirked at him.
he was so mean.
"how can you act innocent right after sucking my mouth dry a second ago, you monster?".
"but-". oh no. his cheeks were red, wide eyes searching for one of your parents to pop up from nowhere suddenly, hands finding no safe spot to grip at your sides, finally opting to put them in your waist, almost engulfing its whole circumference because of the size of his hands.
when a few moments passed and you still remained in the same state, he finally relented and sealed your lips once more in a quick kiss, one of his hands moving up from your waist to gently caress your swollen lower lip afterward.
“is that what you've been thinking about all this time, baby?". he asked embarrassingly, eyes avoiding your brown ones for all that was worth.
you nodded, your eyes roaming all over his face before reaching out to move some of the hair away from his eyes, gathering his attention.
"sorry, but yes". you pouted, a small smile starting to appear on the boxer's mouth. you could tell he was embarrassed to hear you confess he occupies your mind 24/7 as if he didn’t know that yet. "and that you are so irritably sexy".
not even one second after, gun-woo's hand is covering your mouth with his eyes wide open and a laugh escapes your lips. he instantly mouths for you to be careful.
"i didn't even say anything wrong!". you defend, automatically tracing his scar on the right side of his face like you are already used to, brushing his hair at the end.
"you want sexy time, i know you!". he whisper-shouts, now completely avoiding your gaze. you laughed.
"sorry". you were not. "it's not my fault you're wearing pink shorts! you can't do this to me, you're mean!". you whined on his lap.
"you were crying seconds ago, what happened?!". it was his turn to pout, looking genuinely confused at your change of emotions. "woojin-hyung said you were crazy when you guys first met".
"that old f-". gun-woo covered your mouth again, warning you. "he's lucky he didn't make it here".
this one is for my crybaby girlies i got you don't worry, gun-woo is here to wipe your tears and fuck your brains out - in a loving way. loved imagining beach!gunwoo a little too much.
#this was supposed to be longer im sorryyyy#hope you enjoyed anyways!!#woo do hwan#kim geun woo x reader#kim gun woo#bloodhounds fanfic#bloodhounds#bloodhounds x reader#bloodhounds netflix#bloodhounds kdrama
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