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falling in midair

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Lan Wangji’s wrists strain against his own forehead ribbon, twisting pathetically to try and earn some kind of purchase on the wall behind him. This certainly isn’t the first time they’ve used the sacred ribbon as bondage, but today is certainly different. It had always been a point lingering in the back of both of their minds that, should Lan Wangji really want to, he could definitely break through it even though he never would. As strong and imbued with power as the cloth is, it is, at the end of the day, cloth.

Except for today, when Lan Wangji has sealed off his own spiritual energy.

It’s not just any silk that somebody could break through if they wanted. No, with all the spiritual energy it’s picked up over the years and its duties in Lan sect tradition, no layperson without the means to cultivate could ever hope to rip it. Lan Wangji struggles against it once more just to feel it bite into his skin, heart racing as the knowledge sinks in; he couldn’t break through it even if he wanted to. He’s truly, completely at Wei Wuxian’s whim.

The latter seems to be making a show out of his spiritual energy now that Lan Wangji is unable to, teasing him in a rather sadistic way. He holds Lan Wangji up with his legs wrapped around his waist, fingers digging into his ass to hold him in place against the wall. Lan Wangji is still a bit taller than him like this, but the devilish, smug grin on Wei Wuxian face when he looks up at him is no less intimidating. There isn’t any telling what Wei Wuxian will do next with Lan Wangji completely at his mercy, tied up, held against the wall, and already speared open on his cock.

Lan Wangji feels dizzy with helplessness. Drunk with the pleasure that comes from letting go.

He has always been devoted to Wei Wuxian with his everything, heart, body, and soul. If Wei Wuxian so much as asked for anything, Lan Wangji would already be trying to fulfill whatever wish or need he had. He knows it goes the same way for him, but he can’t help but be more pleased when he’s the one spoiling his lover he’s waited so long for. In his mind, there’s very little that Wei Wuxian needs to do to make him happy, as much as he tries to spoil Lan Wangji in much the same way.

Now, he doesn’t have a choice. Wei Wuxian holds him up, the only thing grounding him to this earth, and gives so much that Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has never let go of his control to this extent, only ever locking his spiritual powers for training, never in front of another person unless forced. It makes him realizes just how much strength he really is carrying to be unable to use it--and how strong Wei Wuxian is now that he can’t fight back.

It’s shameful to indulge so much in this, Lan Wangji thinks; he’s enjoying being taken and used far too much for one of the strongest cultivators in Gusu Lan. But maybe that’s why he’s so lightheaded, able to relax his body and not think as he’s taken care of whether he likes it or not (he likes it).

With a snap of his hips, Wei Wuxian plunges back into him forcefully, making Lan Wangji’s brows furrow as a short grunt escapes his lips. Wei Ying’s been trying out different positions and angles for over an hour now, still trying to find one that could potentially have Lan Wangji making even half the noise that Wei Wuxian screams into the ceiling every night. They both know he could never be that loud, that no one on earth could hope to compare to Wei Wuxian’s volume, but damn if Wei Wuxian won’t use “trying” as an excuse to keep his cock buried inside of him for half the night.

A bite on his collarbone. A series of fast but short rolls of Wei Wuxian’s hips rocking into him. A scrape of his nails along his back. With his hands tied above him, hooked onto an ornament on the wall, Lan Wangji can only hang on for dear life as his breath is choked out of him in short, erratic pants. At most, he’ll cut off his own moans to keep a reasonable volume, hiding them in his throat until Wei Wuxian pries them out with his tongue. For some reason, it feels less shameful to groan into Wei Wuxian’s mouth when they kiss, given that the sounds are only trapped between them. But even though they’re quieter, every moan is made more lewd, soaked slick with saliva against the roof of Wei Wuxian’s mouth and bitten into his plush lips.

Lan Wangji has been taken by him before. He had enjoyed it then, feeling what Wei Wuxian feels when Lan Wangji folds him in half every night. He loved opening his eyes to see Wei Wuxian bent over him, sweat dripping down onto his face, brows knitted in concentration until he met Lan Wangji’s eye and laughed as usual. They would kiss, and Wei Wuxian would caress him open until they were both spilling over the edge together with their fingers together.

Never has he experienced anything like this.

With his powers sealed, tied up, and only being held aloft by Wei Wuxian, he’s completely vulnerable for the taking. And god, does Wei Wuxian take, and take, and take , rutting into him as if he were an animal in heat that couldn’t get its fill of Lan Wangji’s body. His lips are always occupied with whatever they can reach, either kissing him or biting purple into his neck or, ah--Lan Wangji’s breath hitches as Wei Wuxian lowers his head, latching onto one of his nipples with more teeth than lip or tongue, and his toes are curling behind Wei Wuxian’s back. 

He throws his head back with gritted teeth just as Wei Wuxian slows their pace, making every thrust pronounced and deep and agonizingly slower than before. Lan Wangji can’t move that much in this position, afraid of doing anything with his legs for fear of being dropped even though he knows that, one, Wei Wuxian would never drop him, and two, if he did, he’d just end up in the same position folded like a paper fan under Wei Wuxian’s cock and pressed against the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time, but now he thinks it might actually bruise without the protection of his regular spiritual powers to break the fall. Just like how those nails digging deep into his hips are certainly going to leave marks that he has no intention of healing tomorrow morning when his powers are restored.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian breathes heavily, pressing open mouth bites that turn into kisses and then bites again across Lan Wangji’s pec. He licks a long line up his chest, keeping eye contact the entire time in a way that has Lan Wangji’s cock leaking between them. “Why won’t you make more noise for me, my pretty husband? Is this one not pleasing you properly?”

Before he can answer, Wei Wuxian is adjusting their position to take a step away from the wall. This way, he’s the only thing holding Lan Wangji up, and in his dizzying haze, the fact alone makes him gasp a needy breath against him. Unhooked from the wall, Lan Wangji is able to throw his tied arms around Wei Wuxian’s neck, holding him closer and tighter. Then Wei Wuxian is moving again.

Their dual cultivation really has been making vast improvements. Wei Wuxian has always been strong in his past life, and he’s been doing good to train Mo Xuanyu’s body into something resembling his previous physique. His muscles may not be as defined or heavy as they used to be, but what he lacks in physical strength he makes up for in cultivation. It’s that spiritual energy that allows him to hold Lan Wangji up with his hands alone, lifting him up by his hips and waiting for Lan Wangji’s eyes to widen in realization before dropping him back down on his cock.

Lan Wangji keens , a pathetic, desperate noise that almost has Wei Wuxian slamming him back into the wall. He seems to restrain himself though, as Lan Wangji finds himself being repeatedly lifted and speared on Wei Wuxian’s dick at a brutal pace that has him seeing stars. It’s too deep at this angle, and if Lan Wangji didn’t know better he would think he could feel the head of Wei Wuxian’s dick all the way in his throat. Each thrust hits that bundle of nerves he always seeks out for Wei Wuxian’s pleasure, only having recently discovered for himself. And god, does Wei Wuxian learn quickly how to do the same for him, striking his prostate with studied precision again and again until Lan Wangji is on the verge of tears.

His fingers tangle in Wei Wuxian’s hair. At this point, he knows that every single action, move, kiss, all of it is specifically targeted to make Lan Wangji lose his mind and maybe draw out those noises he’s been dying to hear. Lan Wangji is already panting heavily in his ears, occasionally accentuated with an “ah” or stutter of Wei Ying’s name that dies when he gasps. Wei Wuxian knows his body better than he himself does, has been studying it every night diligently and preparing an arsenal for the night he would decide to attack. This was that night. And Lan Wangji realizes he was nowhere near prepared.

Always the louder one, Wei Wuxian still manages to make more noise than him even though he’s trying to hear Lan Wangji above his own voice. With each thrust into Lan Wangji’s hole, Wei Wuxian moans, all debauched, satisfied noises that make Lan Wangji’s dick ache. He wishes he could somehow clone himself, or was flexible enough to do everything he wanted to Wei Wuxian while receiving all of his pleasure all at once. When he sees his face twisted in bliss as Lan Wangji tightens down on him, the mutual feelings of wanting to throw his husband down and pound into him conflict with the need to be filled and fuller and never empty again.

“Wei...Ying,” Lan Wangji manages to say with a breathy grunt, the second syllable caught in his throat and coming out higher pitched than he’s proud to admit. But just that small lapse, that little intonation in his voice is enough to make Wei Wuxian’s eyes darken and his pupils widen. At once, he’s being slammed back into the wall, and the shelves hanging above them rattle with the force of it. Lan Wangji tilts his head back as Wei Wuxian bites crescent moons into his neck, completely letting go of his ass to grab Lan Wangji’s knees and press him harder against the wall. 

Like this, the only thing holding Lan Wangji up is the force of being nailed to the wall and Wei Wuxian’s hips supporting him from below, snapping up into him so roughly he can feel the tears stinging at the edges of his eyes spill over. It’s almost cruel, he thinks as his legs are spread wide open for Wei Wuxian to slot between. All of his weaknesses are being exploited all at once just like this, leaving Lan Wangji, one of the twin jades of Gusu Lan, respected among every sect, completely helpless and exposed and panting desperately as the Yiling patriarch practically destroys him from the inside out.

He isn’t sure if he’ll be able to walk normally after this. He isn’t sure if he’s ever going to want to now that he knows they could just spend all their time locked in the jingshi, doing this for hours upon hours every day. The pleasure of taking Wei Wuxian’s body beneath him is exquisite, without a doubt, but they’re two very distinct desires inside of him. He could take Wei Wuxian every night, and very much wants to.

But this, this Lan Wangji is somewhat afraid that if they ever do again, he might get addicted.

“Soon… ah, Lan Zhan, you’re gonna make me come soon, you’re so tight, so good and open for me… tell me it feels good,” Wei Wuxian speaks nonsense into his shoulder, and Lan Wangji can only do as he’s told as if he were under some sort of spell.

“Good… good, Wei Ying, please…”


Just as Lan Wangji is about to answer, Wei Wuxian uses his hold on him to lift his husband against the wall a few inches before he falls back down on top of his cock once again. Lan Wangji instantly throws his head back, slamming against the wall as he claws his nails into Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. He’s going to go mad, he’s going to lose all of his faculties like this, until all he can think of is those strong hands holding him up, the teeth gnawing his chest, the cock carving him into its shape from below--no, he probably went mad the first time he held Wei Wuxian and realized he would never be sated until they’d had each other’s bodies in every way human and inhumanly possible.

Lan Wangji tries to swallow an embarrassing noise that is still pounded out of him, coming out as small whimpers, not quite cries, just barely restrained. “Please--ah, Wei Ying… you.”

Wei Wuxian’s normally bell-like laugh is breathless and heavy. “I’m right here, Lan Zhan. Don’t tell me you forgot whose d--”

Unable to cover Wei Wuxian’s mouth with his hands, Lan Wangji pulls him in tighter with his bound arms around his shoulders. But it isn’t the embrace that keeps Wei Wuxian from speaking as much as the sudden shout from Lan Wangji at a particularly sharp thrust that sends his legs spasming. He barely has any time to prepare or acknowledge what’s going on, his cock never been so neglected between their heated bodies, and he comes anyways.

As soon as he notices, Wei Wuxian moans and flattens Lan Wangji against the wall to fuck him through it. In this tired, helpless state, all Lan Wangji can do it hold on for dear life while he’s plowed, each thrust making his toes curl and small noises of pleasure pour from his mouth. He doesn’t even try to conceal his volume now, openly moaning as Wei Wuxian finds his own release in the deepest part of his body. Wei Wuxian comes with a loud, drawn out growl, almost like a roar, slamming into Lan Wangji so fiercely that he’s afraid they might pull away from the wall to find an imprint of his back there.

And finally, it’s quiet.

Lan Wangji, for not having made as much noise as Wei Wuxian would’ve wanted, still feels his throat sore and his mouth dry just from how slack his jaw had been all night. He tries to wet his own mouth with saliva before Wei Wuxian pulls back from his neck and meets him partway to kiss, and he’s admittedly pleased to find his husband’s tongue as dry as his. Wei Wuxian still holds him up but moves his hands back down to his ass and lets Lan Wangji’s legs wrap around him, sore and shaking as he’s removed from the wall. He can’t help but cringe at the sick wet feeling of his back unsticking from the sweaty wall.

Wei Wuxian is all gentle touches and quiet words as they return to bed. Compared to the plaster, the soft linens of the cot are heaven against Lan Wangji’s back, and he openly sighs in relief when he’s laid down upon them. It’s an understatement to say he feels disgusting, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum. As soon as Wei Wuxian pulls out, he cringes, feeling strangely empty after being fucked so thoroughly for what must have been hours while the product of that frenzied lovemaking slips out of his hole.

Taking the role of caretaker for tonight, Wei Wuxian is right there with a wet washcloth to wipe it up for him before it drips onto the sheets, and Lan Wangji is as thankful as he is ashamed. Usually it would be his job to clean up their mess, taking great pleasure in getting to dote on his tired lover and make sure everything is in order for tomorrow. But he assumes Wei Wuxian can tell that he’s in no condition to do anything but lay down and try to breathe for the next few minutes, or hours, or days.

The cool cloth gently caresses all the paths of his body that Wei Wuxian had traveled earlier, and it feels more like they’re sealing the mess into him instead of washing it away. This is like the last step of some kind of ritual they go through every night, taking the time to acknowledge and clean every last inch that was soiled earlier. When he opens his eyes to watch his lover’s face, he can see that same self-satisfied look on his face as he appreciates the fucked out form of his husband before him. 

He catches Lan Wangji watching and smiles.

“Lan Zhan, you’re supposed to ask me if I see something I like.”


Even without the question, Wei Wuxian still laughs and collapses in bed beside him once they’ve both been cleaned up. He curls up into his side and moves Lan Wangji’s limbs for him into a position he finds comfortable, ending up with his lover’s arm around his back and resting his head on a pillowy but firm pec. With just a glance down Lan Wangji’s chest at all the bite marks he’d left, his nipples practically red from abuse, Wei Wuxian lifts his head just enough to grin up at his lover.

“So… tomorrow night?”

Lan Wangji feels all the blood leave his face.

He feels a bit more sympathetic about requesting “everyday.”