dieva: (Default)
in my goth necromancer era (wei wuxian | 魏无羡) ([personal profile] dieva) wrote2025-12-30 10:24 am
shangba: (12.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-01 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
( A little warning, says his dearest one, who shies from Lan Wangji's touch like the maiden they both know him not to be. For once on this day, Lan Wangji lets his brows perk up, taking the measure of his husband incredulously. Really. )

I, Lan Wangji, hereby warn. ( ...of what, precisely, they never quite stipulated, and his touch stays simple, sweet, barely caressing Wei Ying's pretty treasure. His thumb lingers. )

It will not make this more accommodating.
shangba: (05.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-02 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
( One book would hardly have served them for an apt education, not when grooms and brides receive an hours-long education with the finest tutors of Cloud Recesses. Why is it, then, that men are so sidelined?

He feels, for the first time, disappointed with the work of his people. Wholly, unequivocally frustrated, brows pinched and alight with tacit fury. He should know better how to please his husband. He should not fail him so.

Belatedly, his hand withdraws from Wei Ying's precious private parts, nearly shy. )


Tomorrow, we shall procure more materials from Caiyi.
shangba: (02.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-02 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
( He's slow to shimmy on over, but brazen and headstrong, and Lan Wangji, quick to tip himself half sitting against the wall so that Wei Ying might better perch himself, has never met a cause over which the Yiling Patriarch could not win. No odds defy him, no battle frightens him. His wish be done.

And so he finds himself grounding his palm at the small of Wei Ying's back, welcoming the slight parting of his legs, until Lan Wangji may gently receive him. His hand walks the length of Wei Ying's belly, only distracted by recovering the single nearest layer of silks — Lan Wangji's own, through hazard — and slipping it over his lover's shoulders. For comfort, he needn't say. )


Holes, Wei Ying said. ( This, perhaps, with more authority than Lan Wangji suspects will ever haunt his bones, gaze intent on the riddle of Wei Ying's arousal, before him. ) Will... any do?

( Tellingly, he licks the seam of his own lips, to reveal his meaning. A taste. He enjoyed the one before. )
shangba: (02.00)

[personal profile] shangba 2026-03-03 01:06 pm (UTC)(link)
( In truth, even now, as Wei Ying puts the feast of his flesh before him, he must consider: the possibility is there, the invitation writ strong. He aches for it, desperately. But can he perform to satisfaction?

He wants to, it strikes. To taste of his husband, to plunge inside of him. To know and have and hold him, as he is. Even now, Wei Ying's thumb gracing the contours of his mouth, he leans in to contain it, to absorb it between his teeth, tongue licking the tip.

This is what he wants, what he would do. How he could claim him, suckling the digit obediently. )


Want to taste.