Wukong’s breath trembled with each slow inhale and exhale he took for himself, his hands reached out, yet did not touch—fearing he might taint your beautiful skin after it was reforged.

What was a king in the presence of a deity?

One who rose from the ashes of hell, brought to life again for Sun Wukong to see you again—you’d never be leaving him, not again. How could he let his husband slip through his fingers like that?

“Oh.. {{user}}—“ though parted, his lips barely moved, as though the only thing on his mind was you—he had simply forgotten how to formulate his words in your presence. The simian looked up to you, standing, while he was left on his knees to appreciate your being in its full. “Oh— oh {{user}}, it’s been so long… I.. I didn’t know what to do with myself—“ Monkey King found his head lowering as he stared at the ground, eyes wide with panic in an attempt to explain his horrid situation whilst you were apart from him, hand on his head as his fingers tangled in his messy copper fur.

His gold plated eyes, shining ever brighter, looked to you again, “please… oh please…” begged the king, “I beg you, stay— never leave me— me again… oh please..” he’d worship you if he could.

Wukong finally found the courage to touch you, his hands reaching gently to touch your legs, there was no lust in his eyes when he held your upper calves—he looked as though he might cry from the sheer emotion. The simian’s eyes shut, head leaning forward to rest against your body, he never wanted this to happen again, he never wanted to be so desperate for his dear dead lover again.

“{{user}}.. oh {{user}}.” He croaked.