Chapter Text
It’s clear that this is no ordinary curse. They’re only a few days out from Qishan, and Wei Wuxian is no closer to solving this challenge. Time is of the essence, and there’s only one clear path forward.
He needs to see Lan Wangji’s other form.
It won’t be easy. To deter him, Lan Wangji has sealed the pumpkin with an enchantment that both soundproofs the carriage and prevents others from entering.
Wei Wuxian still doesn’t understand why sound is such an issue, but that’s the least of his worries. He must see Lan Wangji transform, no matter what. So, he switches to another one of his tried-and-true methods: shameless begging.
Hands clasped together, he drops to his knees one evening, just before the sun dips beneath the mountains.
“Please, Lan Zhan! I’ll do anything! A bushel of potatoes, free necromancy services, a lifetime supply of potions—just let me have one little peek tonight. Please!?”
“No.” Lan Wangji calmly pulls him back to his feet. “You are not to approach the carriage, under any circumstance.”
“Not even a tiny—”
“No.”
Wei Wuxian groans. “C’mon! I know I can break this damn thing—I just need more to work with.”
Lan Wangji’s hand settles atop Wei Wuxian’s head, gently ruffling his hair. His smile is as warm as ever, but there’s a shadow behind it. “If you truly wish to help, then stay far away from me at night. I do not want to harm you.”
Wei Wuxian, a seasoned occultist, has seen it all: curses that freeze entire cities, poisoned apples tossed around like party favors, even caustic llamas spitting insults and saliva. There’s no way Lan Wangji’s other form can be that frightening.
And yet, Lan Wangji speaks of his curse as though he’s seconds from unleashing an apocalypse. But Wei Wuxian isn’t deterred; Lan Wangji’s protests only fan his curiosity, nearly impossible to contain.
“I’m not afraid,” Wei Wuxian insists. “I know you’d never hurt me—beast, ghost, or whatever else you might be. I trust you, Lan Zhan.”
And he means it.
Lan Wangji’s ears turn pink, and for a hopeful moment, Wei Wuxian thinks he’s about to give in. But Lan Wangji only sighs and solemnly shakes his head.
“...I am not who I seem,” he says quietly, his voice just a shade forlorn. “It is best if you stay away from me at night.”
“But—”
“The answer is no, Wei Ying.”
Over the next few days, Wei Wuxian tries every other arcane method he can think of—spicy potions, binge-eating peaches, even tying dozens of ribbons together. None of it works. The only change is that Wei Wuxian stops pestering Lan Wangji about his other form.
Not for lack of interest—no, he’s just lulling Lan Wangji into a false sense of security.
Opportunity finally strikes the evening before their arrival in Nightless City, when they stumble upon an abandoned cabin off a remote mountainside path. And for once, Jiang Cheng’s grumbling comes in handy.
“I’m taking the pumpkin tonight,” he announces, already kicking off his boots. “You two can fight over the cabin.”
Before he can reach the door, Lan Wangji grabs his shoulder. “If I am to take the cabin, Wei Ying will sleep in the carriage. You may sleep outside, Prince Wanyin.”
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Do not push your luck. You’re really not in a position to make demands here.”
“I beg to differ.”
At Lan Wangji’s command, a flock of birds descends, flapping threateningly. Jiang Cheng glares, clearly debating whether punching through a row of songbirds is doable.
Wei Wuxian quickly steps between them. “Alright, enough! Jiang Cheng, you can have the pumpkin. Lan Zhan, take the cabin. I’ll camp outside.”
Jiang Cheng huffs and slams the carriage door shut. As Lan Wangji opens his mouth to protest, Wei Wuxian gently tugs him aside, squeezing his wrist. “It’s fine. I like sleeping under the stars. Go on.”
Lan Wangji frowns, clearly torn. “The temperature drops at night. And there may be predators.”
“Same as every night,” Wei Wuxian teases. “If you’re that worried, we could share the cabin.”
“You know I cannot—”
“I’m just screwing with you,” Wei Wuxian interrupts, laughing. “Now, get going. It’s almost time, isn’t it?”
Lan Wangji hesitates. After a deep sigh, he removes his outer robe and drapes it over Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. The soft fabric and sandalwood scent envelop Wei Wuxian like a warm embrace, leaving him grinning like an idiot as Lan Wangji adjusts the robe snugly.
“Keep this to stay warm,” Lan Wangji says, rubbing Wei Wuxian’s arms lightly. “Build a fire and maintain a safe distance from it while you sleep. And if you sense any danger—”
“I’ll be fine,” Wei Wuxian cuts in, nudging him toward the cabin. Before Lan Wangji goes, Wei Wuxian rummages through his pack and hands over his spare robe. “Here, take this. That cabin’s still gonna be pretty damn cold.”
Lan Wangji accepts the robe, his gaze warm. “Thank you, Wei Ying. Stay safe. I will see you in the morning.”
Wei Wuxian watches Lan Wangji disappear over the ridge before slapping his cheeks, shaking off the daze.
It’s now or never.
Heart pounding, Wei Wuxian races up the path after Lan Wangji, barely keeping himself from outright skipping. Several days of exhausting, curse-breaking labor have led to this—the chance to finally see Lan Wangji’s mysterious other form!
Sure, sneaking a peek despite promising not to is a little underhanded, but the benefits far outweigh the risks.
The quaint cabin soon looms in sight. And as soon as the sun dips below the mountains, the building begins to tremble; the transformation sequence—often a theatrical affair involving copious smoke and explosions—has begun.
The cabin shakes violently, like it might combust into a cloud of splinters. From inside come feral, animalistic sounds—low growls, shattering glass, and thuds—with only one possible explanation.
“...A rampaging bull, huh?” Wei Wuxian mutters to himself. “Why the hell was he so worked up about that?”
With an indulgent sigh, he closes his eyes, gleefully imagining his best guess at Lan Wangji’s other form: a velvety-gray coat of fur shimmering under the moonlight, curved horns that are as lethal as they are elegant, and a muscular frame that still manages to be dignified.
Lan Wangji would make the perfect cattle. And selfishly…Wei Wuxian really, really wants to ride him.
But his bull-riding fantasies take a confusing turn when a low moan echoes out of the cabin—the kind of noise that definitely isn’t of the bovine variety.
Pulse quickening, Wei Wuxian tiptoes closer, pressing his ear against the wall. His mind spins with ideas as he tries to make sense of the sounds. The violent, beast-like movements coupled with the distinctly human voice narrow down the possibilities to some kind of hybrid form—perhaps a centaur, satyr, or even a flying mermaid.
The curiosity gnaws away at him, impossible to ignore. He has to see for himself.
Wei Wuxian’s fingers tremble with excitement as he slides them between two rotting planks to create a small peephole. Inside, a dim candle casts flickering shadows over a chaotic room—upturned furniture, broken glass, and bedsheets in a tangled mess across a small bed.
And at the center of it all stands Lan Wangji.
He paces around, muttering low grunts as if trying to suppress some inner turmoil. Bare feet slam against the creaking floorboards, heavy with frustration as he crushes everything in his path.
Dark, elegant horns curve back from his temples, polished and faintly iridescent, giving him an otherworldly allure. A thin tail—tipped with a razor-sharp spade—sweeps behind him, slipping in and out of view as his inner robe sways. His skin takes a subtle, hypnotic shimmer—like the sheen of moonlight on water.
Everything about him is crafted to lure—eyes that smolder with a dangerous intensity, painfully sinuous movements, and a taut body poised to entice. In his presence, every breath feels stolen, every thought seduced, as if he’s woven from a fabric meant to ensnare the soul.
An incubus.
Wei Wuxian struggles to stifle a gasp.
Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle snap into place. The dual-layer enchantment, the curse’s unusual resistance to the usual methods, the demonic transformation, even Lan Wangji’s three-headed mutt with an eerily familiar name—everything makes sense now.
One of Lan Wangji’s ancestors made a deal with a fucking devil.
This curse isn’t just difficult—it’s nearly impossible to break. But that thought easily slips away, eclipsed by the startling scene unfolding before Wei Wuxian.
Incubi, though seductive by nature, can’t spellbind humans. Instead, they weaponize their charm by attacking the senses: an alluring voice like honeyed whispers, gentle hands grazing the skin, and a scent as intoxicating as wine.
The best defense against an incubus is distance. And with a wall between them, Wei Wuxian has that…in theory.
So, why the fuck are his knees already going weak!?
It’s useless. No matter how many times he wills himself to move—to scurry back to camp, curiosity satisfied—his traitorous legs refuse to listen. Worse yet, his traitorous eyes press even harder against the peephole, desperate for another glimpse of the entrancing man before him.
To distract himself from the strange, tingling sensations now flooding his body, Wei Wuxian tries to focus on what he can deduce from this vantage point—like the potential effects of the curse’s second layer.
It doesn’t help, because Lan Wangji suddenly starts stripping.
Wei Wuxian’s heart jumps to his throat. He swallows hard, his mouth dry.
Lan Wangji’s usual serenity is replaced with a fiery, unrestrained passion. His skin flushes with need, his chest rising and falling as he claws desperately at his robes like they’re suffocating him.
Wei Wuxian has proudly seen Lan Wangji’s bare upper body three times now, each instance more electrifying than the last. This particular occurrence is especially so, however, given that Lan Wangji is also removing his pants.
They slide down his legs with one swift motion, tossed into a careless heap on the floor with his robes.
Wei Wuxian’s breath catches.
This isn’t right.
He knows this isn’t right.
He shouldn’t be looking.
But…he can’t tear himself away.
Every detail of Lan Wangji’s nude body draws him in deeper—the sharp V-line where his hips meet his abdomen, the definition of his long, muscular legs, and…his throbbing, fully erect cock.
Two things are immediately evident about this cock:
One, it’s absolutely massive—to the point that Wei Wuxian wonders how Lan Wangji manages to keep it contained. Two, it’s making Wei Wuxian’s own cock dance in his pants like it’s been fucking enchanted.
A well-mannered former prince such as Wei Wuxian doesn’t make a habit of drooling over the cocks of other men—this is, in fact, the first time he’s ever attempted such a brazen feat.
His opportunity to gawk at this cock is cut short, however, when Lan Wangji suddenly turns around and crawls onto the bed, fingers raking against the sheets as if searching for something. Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide, the alluring new angle of Lan Wangji’s sculpted backside sending heat searing through him.
Wei Wuxian gulps, realizing with dawning clarity that he might have very specific, homoerotic inclinations where Lan Wangji is concerned.
His pulse pounds in his ears as Lan Wangji sits back on the edge of the bed and spreads his long legs, giving Wei Wuxian another full, frontal view. Whatever Lan Wangji was looking for is now tightly clenched in his hand—some kind of fabric, though Wei Wuxian can’t make out the finer details.
Lan Wangji completely buries his face into that crumpled fabric, his grip almost bruising. He inhales with a ravenous, desperate intensity—as if he’s been starving for this scent for a lifetime. His other hand drops lower, slowly stroking his erect cock as he moans and tips his head back, lost in pleasure.
Face flushed, Wei Wuxian slumps to the ground, back against the wall. But the lewd sounds from inside—groans, the slap of bare skin, the squeaking bed frame—drown him in a sweet, heady delirium.
He shudders, forcing his eyes shut.
But even then, Lan Wangji’s erotic image stays seared on the backs of his eyelids—his sculpted body bathed in the dim glow of candlelight, taut muscles stretching as he rolls his hips into his hand.
Wei Wuxian’s cock twitches, straining against his pants. He barely resists the urge to reach down, to follow the rhythm of Lan Wangji’s movements and pleasure himself. A thin thread of self-restraint holds him back—the last bit of respect for Lan Wangji’s dignity.
But every sound from the other side of the wall snaps that restraint little by little, like vines tightening around him, dragging him closer to an arousal he can’t ignore.
It’s too much.
With Lan Wangji’s moans growing louder, Wei Wuxian finally lets his hand slide down, fingers grazing his cock over his clothes. Lan Wangji’s robes, soft and suffused in sandalwood, curve around him as if caressing his entire body.
Wei Wuxian bites his lower lip, trying to suppress a moan as he palms himself, fully erect within a few strokes. His cock jolts in his pants, rubbing against that smooth fabric as he bucks into his flat hand. A fresh wave of arousal rushes through him, and suddenly the mental image of Lan Wangji isn’t nearly enough.
He rises onto his wobbly feet and presses a forearm against the wall, watching Lan Wangji through the peephole with renewed urgency. He never stops rubbing his erection as he stares, absolutely devouring the way Lan Wangji pleasures himself.
Lan Wangji’s movements have slowed down. His thumb languidly toys with his slit, spreading precum along his tip, while his fingers slowly graze the underside of his shaft. Sweat trails down the arched lines of his throat as tips his head back, letting out another strangled moan.
“...Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian freezes, heart pounding as he sinks to his knees, hardly daring to breathe.
He’s been caught. Surely, Lan Wangji will burst through the door any moment, horrified to find him in this compromising position.
But…nothing happens.
Instead, the sensual sounds only intensify. And then, Wei Wuxian hears his own name again— uttered in a breathless, longing voice. For a moment, he assumes he’s completely lost himself to his delirious arousal. But then, Lan Wangji calls for him yet again. Over and over, each instance more passionate than the last.
“...Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji groans, muffled but unmistakable. “Wei Ying!”
His name.
His name, torn from Lan Wangji’s lips, mingled with moans and pleading noises.
The words are weighted with yearning. Each murmur of his name—so fervent and raw—feels like a spell that beckons him, leaving him helpless to resist.
Maybe he is delusional—maybe the desperate love and lust for Lan Wangji has finally gone to his head. Either way, he doesn’t care. He’ll gladly lock himself away in an asylum, content to listen to these hallucinations for the rest of eternity.
He stumbles back to his feet, nearly face-planting through that damn peephole to get another look. Lan Wangji is stroking himself faster, harder—calling out Wei Wuxian’s name with every other glide, hips bucking so hard the bed might break.
His face is still stuffed in that sheet—irritatingly so, because Wei Wuxian is dying to see the expression that accompanies those heady moans. He’s desperate to see the way Lan Wangji’s face twists with pleasure when he finally comes—which, judging by the way his hardened cock is throbbing and seeping precum all over his knuckles, isn’t that far off.
Unable to hold back any longer, Wei Wuxian tugs down his waistband, toes curling as his fingers finally brush against his bare cock. He glides his hand up and down, eyes transfixed on the way Lan Wangji jerks himself off.
Fuck, he loves those hands—how they move so gracefully across the guqin, swimming between strings. He loves how those warm hands cup his cheeks, caressing him with overflowing reverence, as if holding a precious object.
And now, he loves how those hands look so fucking good wrapped around an impossibly erect cock.
Wei Wuxian shivers, feeling his own skin flush as he envisions the way Lan Wangji’s hands would explore his body—tickling his inner thighs, spreading his legs apart, and jerking his cock until he comes.
The fantasy draws him deeper, and Wei Wuxian’s breathing becomes shallow. His body clenches. The fingers around his cock start to speed up. Hips jerking, he tries to match Lan Wangji’s pace.
He leans a shoulder against the wall, freeing up his other hand to slip under his collar and tease his neglected nipples, stretching his thumb and index finger to play with them both. He shivers with pleasure as they start to harden, growing more sensitive with each teasing touch.
His thoughts naturally wander to Lan Wangji, imagining the warmth of his lips trailing hot kisses against his chest, flicking his nipples with his wet tongue—licking and sucking them raw.
He bites back another moan, but it’s almost impossible to do when Lan Wangji is still calling out his name from inside, jerking himself with an unforgiving pace.
And then, something strange happens.
A warm liquid seeps between Wei Wuxian’s thighs, as if his own body is pouring out an unbidden response to the pleasure—a natural, clear slick that definitely didn’t come from his cock. He sneaks his hand a little lower, eyes going wide in disbelief.
Wei Wuxian is leaking…from his ass.
This is a first.
He’s heard of enchantments that enhance lubrication for men—but this is happening naturally, like his body’s innate arousal is tied directly to Lan Wangji’s voice. Every one of Lan Wangji’s moans has him dripping more slick, until his pants are utterly soaked.
But, the strange discovery doesn’t stop him—on the contrary, he’s excited to use this fountain of lubrication to its full potential. Spreading his legs, he douses his fingers with the strange substance before gliding them along his raw cock. Head tilted back, he slowly pumps into his fist, relishing the easy slide.
And then, a flicker of something daring takes over—something almost instinctual. While he plays with his own tip—the way that Lan Wangji apparently loves to do—Wei Wuxian slides his other hand along the swell of his ass, exploring the tight space between his cheeks.
Slowly, as the dripping liquid coats his fingers, he nudges his tight rim open with little circles. When he feels his muscles relaxing, he sucks in a deep breath and presses a single finger inside. The penetration is painless, eased by the generous amount of slick absolutely drenching his tight inner walls.
His eyelids flutter closed, and he mouths a quiet moan.
It feels fucking amazing—so amazing, in fact, that he immediately adds a second finger.
Wei Wuxian has never considered playing with himself like this. Now, he’s wondering how the hell he’s ever lived without it.
While Lan Wangji ear fucks him from inside, Wei Wuxian fucks his fingers, scissoring himself open. Pleasure assaults him from all angles—he jerks his throbbing cock, doused with his own slick, while he rocks his ass back, sinking deeper onto his hand.
It’s not enough. He easily works his way up to three fingers, then four—groaning because he’s just not full enough. His eyes go wide as he furiously slams his hips down, fingers ramming into a spot that has him seeing stars.
Even then, he craves more. He needs Lan Wangji—those long, talented fingers strumming him like a guqin. He needs to be stuffed to the brim with Lan Wangji’s massive cock, fucked relentlessly until he blacks out.
He bites his lip as he shoves his entire fist up his ass, lost to the delirious vision of Lan Wangji spearing into that spot—the one his own pathetic fingers can barely reach—stretching him until his stomach bulges. He rocks his hips harder, hopelessly aroused by the squelching sounds of his own body as he fists himself.
It’s all too much—fucking his cock and his ass raw while he watches Lan Wangji masturbate, moaning his name with his impossibly deep, seductive voice.
Wei Wuxian can’t fight the pleasure anymore.
Ribbons of cum paint the cabin white. Another gush of liquid coats the hand buried in his ass, dripping all the way down his wrist, soaking the pristine sleeves of Lan Wangji’s robes. Wei Wuxian cries out in bliss, chest heaving as he rides out the intense aftershocks.
Everything inside the cabin suddenly goes still.
The panting halts, the frantic rustling of fabric ceases. Wei Wuxian barely has time to brace himself before Lan Wangji’s gaze snaps toward him—possessed and wild. The raw intensity of it makes Wei Wuxian’s knees nearly give way, like he’s about to be devoured whole.
Panic surges through him. He bolts.
Feet pounding against the forest floor, Wei Wuxian flees into the dark woods. But behind him, the unmistakable sound of pursuit crashes through the trees—Lan Wangji is right on his heels, his footsteps sloppy but frighteningly fast. Each step sounds like a thunderclap, twigs snapping and underbrush rustling violently in his wake.
All Wei Wuxian can do is pray that Lan Wangji slips on the weird trail of lubrication that he’s definitely leaving behind, giving Wei Wuxian a chance to stuff himself in the nearest brick oven out of mortification, because there’s no way he can admit that he just fucked himself senseless while using Lan Wangji as masturbation material!
There's no escape—he can feel Lan Wangji’s energy coiling around him like a serpent, tightening its grip with every frantic breath. It's thick and suffocating, dense with something dangerous.
Wei Wuxian recognizes it immediately—the dark, swirling mist of desire that clings to him like a shroud. But this much—this overwhelming, all-consuming force—is unbelievable.
And it’s all coming from one person.
"...Lan Zhan," he whispers, barely audible.
A figure emerges from the shadows, steps slowing, but each one deliberate and unyielding. Even in the dim moonlight, Wei Wuxian can make out Lan Wangji’s face. His bare body gleams, slick with sweat, the muscles of his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.
Wei Wuxian stumbles backwards, tripping over a tuft of soft grass. Before he falls over—and ideally knocks himself unconscious on a nearby rock—Lan Wangji rushes forward and snatches his wrist, tugging him into a tight embrace.
Wei Wuxian’s pulse quickens with the closeness—their bodies pressed together, every subtle shift amplifying the heat between them. Lan Wangji is still completely naked, his erection pressing insistently against Wei Wuxian’s hip, a stark reminder of just how little space remains between them.
“Wei Ying, where do you think you’re going?”
The familiar timbre of Lan Wangji’s voice has an unfamiliar edge—a sinister lilt, dripping with sensuality.
Slitted pupils regard Wei Wuxian with a smoldering intensity, and under the moonlight, Lan Wangji’s curved horns gleam with a predatory sharpness. A thin smirk lifts the corners of Lan Wangji’s lips, revealing the tips of fangs as his crimson tongue darts out, briefly tracing his lower lip.
The heat of Lan Wangji’s gaze is too intense, leaving Wei Wuxian vulnerable and acutely aware of his recent, impulsive actions. Flustered, he buries his face into his Lan Wangji’s chest, voice barely audible.
“...N-Nowhere.”
Lan Wangji’s grips his chin, forcing Wei Wuxian to meet his eyes. “Then why,” he asks, soft but unyielding, “are you hiding from me?”
“Because, I…well…Y-Y-You know…”
“Hmm?” Lan Wangji prods. “Because you disobeyed me and, in turn, saw something you shouldn’t have?”
Wei Wuxian whimpers, burrowing back into Lan Wangji’s broad chest.
“...I’m sorry, Lan Zhan! I swear I didn’t mean to! Really, really, really!” He shakes his head, face still buried in that bare, chiseled chest. “I just wanted to see your other form, and then… well, I happened to see you doing that, but…d-d-don’t worry! I barely saw anything! It’s all a blur now—honestly!”
…Which is obviously bullshit, because Wei Wuxian could draw every detail of that dick from memory!
“Wei Ying, you know better than to lie to me.” Slowly, Lan Wangji's hand trails downward, fingers brushing the damp fabric between them. “It seems you did much more than just look.”
That touch—so light yet intentional—sends a tremor through Wei Wuxian’s body, igniting a physical response he can’t control. Fresh slick slips down his thighs, and he shivers, instinctively trying to squeeze his legs together as if he could somehow hide the evidence of his arousal.
Face flushed with embarrassment, he bites back a whimper. “Listen, this just kind of…happened. I really don’t know what’s going on with my body…”
“Shall I offer my own theory, then?” Lan Wangji’s lips curve slightly, and he lowers his mouth to Wei Wuxian’s ear. “I believe that you are getting wet for me.”
“Th-That’s not…” Wei Wuxian gulps, his pulse racing. “...That can’t be possible, right?”
“Oh?” Lan Wangji presses a light kiss to his cheek. “Perhaps we should put it to the test, then.”
“...How?” Wei Wuxian whispers, finally craning his head back up, instantly regretting it—the smug, taunting look on Lan Wangji’s handsome face is absolutely devastating.
Before he can even react, Lan Wangji’s mouth is on his. It’s surprisingly gentle at first, soft and slow, like the kisses Wei Wuxian has only ever imagined.
Without thinking, he loops his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, pulling him closer, getting utterly lost in the addictive sensation of his lips. He can’t help the moan that slips out as a fresh trickle of slick coats his thighs.
Lan Wangji definitely notices. Smiling against Wei Wuxian’s lips, he grinds forward. And Wei Wuxian, despite enjoying the best orgasm of his life not five minutes earlier, feels another surge of heat stir in him, his arousal building all over again.
The kisses grow bolder, Lan Wangji’s mouth demanding and relentless. Wei Wuxian melts against him, shivering as that large hand skims down his back, drawing him impossibly close.
“Do you understand yet?” Lan Wangji whispers, his voice velvet-soft. “Your body responds to me— my every word, my every touch. One taste, and you come undone like petals in the wind.”
It’s almost prophetic, because Wei Wuxian is ready to strip bare and offer himself up—body, heart, and soul. He pulls back briefly, gasping for air, trying to steady his racing thoughts and control his rapidly beating heart.
“...Lan Zhan, am I dreaming?” he mutters, equally dazed and awed.
Lan Wangji chuckles, pressing another heated kiss to his lips. “Why would you think that? Is this pleasure beyond your imagination?”
Wei Wuxian’s every nerve is still screaming at him to fling himself into Lan Wangji’s arms—to savor the taste of his lips and sink deeper into this blissful dream.
But…he can’t.
Lan Wangji isn’t himself.
This teasing charm, the sensuality, the wicked glint in his eyes as he dismantles Wei Wuxian’s defenses—it’s all the influence of the curse, pushing Lan Wangji into urges he’d never act on otherwise. Wei Wuxian knows incubi are creatures of pleasure; to them, others are merely vessels for satisfying their hunger, be it through touch, dreams, or sex.
“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, “do you really want to kiss me?”
Lan Wangji chuckles, as if the question itself is absurd. Smirking, he tugs Wei Wuxian’s lower lip into his mouth, his tongue a soft, teasing glide. When he pulls back, he strokes Wei Wuxian’s cheeks tenderly.
“I want to do a lot more than kiss you, Wei Ying.”
“...That’s not what I meant! Listen, Lan Zhan. This isn’t you—it’s the curse talking. If…If the person in your arms wasn’t me, you’d still—”
Lan Wangji cuts him off with another searing kiss. Wei Wuxian moans as Lan Wangji slaps his ass, sending a pulse of intoxicating heat through his body. Lan Wangji’s touch, so soft under daylight, is now rough and commanding in the moon’s glow.
When Lan Wangji pulls back, a dangerous glint flashes in his eyes. “Do not be ridiculous. I would not be in this state if not for you, Wei Ying,” he says, his voice heavy with conviction. “This desire is only for you. There is no one else—and there never will be.”
Wei Wuxian stares up at him, wide-eyed, as Lan Wangji’s steady confidence sends a rush of warmth through him.
“...Really?”
Lan Wangji smiles, and for a moment, his usual princely calm shines through. “No one else can rile me to this extent,” he whispers, brushing his nose against Wei Wuxian’s in an achingly tender motion. “You have no idea how much I crave you—how desperately I need all of you. For me, there is no other.”
Wei Wuxian’s heart leaps, his face growing warm as Lan Wangji’s words wash over him, scattering all his doubts. Smiling, he hides his face against Lan Wangji’s chest, his own pulse racing at the steady rhythm of Lan Wangji’s heartbeat.
“Really?” he whispers, almost shy. “Really, really?”
“You should know better than anyone,” Lan Wangji hums, his fingers drifting to toy with Wei Wuxian’s ass over his robes. “You must have heard me calling your name while you were watching me earlier. Well? Did you have fun playing with yourself, Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian lets out a low moan, instinctively arching his spine, inviting those long, torturous fingers to press deeper.
“...How did you know?” he asks, his voice barely audible.
“Though your words are defiant,” Lan Wangji whispers, nibbling Wei Wuxian’s lower lip, “your body cannot lie—not to me. You must have enjoyed yourself immensely to soak yourself in such an alluring scent.”
“...Well, what did you expect?” Wei Wuxian groans, cheeks flaming. “You’re…you’re too damn handsome! I can’t help it! It’s a natural reaction…”
“Is it?” Lan Wangji’s soft chuckle vibrates through him as he eases Wei Wuxian down to the ground, placing his back against the cool grass. “And here, I’ve been holding myself back so diligently while you’ve been so naughty.”
With deliberate slowness, he begins peeling back Wei Wuxian’s robes, his fingers grazing every inch of skin he exposes, his eyes raking over Wei Wuxian with a reverent hunger. By the time he’s laid bare under the moonlight, Wei Wuxian can feel his heart pounding, his entire body thrumming under the intensity of Lan Wangji’s gaze.
“So perfect,” Lan Wangji whispers, voice rough with awe as he leans in to kiss the skin he’s revealed, each touch leaving Wei Wuxian breathless. “And to think—this beautiful body is all mine.”
Before Wei Wuxian can fully process the sheer heat between them, Lan Wangji’s hands begin their descent, fingers firm and purposeful, until he’s left shivering—completely, blissfully vulnerable under Lan Wangji’s touch.
Lan Wangji sighs contentedly, inhaling into Wei Wuxian’s neck. “Nothing compares to the real scent of you. So intoxicating.”
"...Huh? The real scent? What are you—” Wei Wuxian’s eyes suddenly go wide. “...Wait. Lan Zhan—was that thing you had in your hand in the cabin…my robe!?”
“Mn. Naturally.” Lan Wangji’s tone is unbothered, his lips quirking as if holding back a laugh. “It kept me quite warm tonight. Though, you must have been watching me very intently to notice such a subtle detail.”
Wei Wuxian groans, tipping his head back into the grass and letting out a long, dramatic sigh. He shuffles his feet indignantly, glaring up at the night sky. “I blame you and your stupid, kinky curse! You—You’re insatiable!”
“Oh, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji hums, a hint of wickedness in his eyes as he trails a line of kisses down Wei Wuxian’s bare abdomen, “if only you knew the half of it.”
Wei Wuxian’s breath catches as Lan Wangji’s lips inch lower. Gulping, he realizes that he’s probably about to learn exactly what “half of it” entails. He watches as Lan Wangji licks his lips, his gaze dark and hungry, taking in Wei Wuxian’s bare form like he’s the most exquisite feast he’s ever seen.
His lips travel down Wei Wuxian’s inner thigh, his tongue darting out to lap up the slick clinging to his skin. The touch is feverish and ticklish, brushing dangerously close to his aching entrance—a pleasure Wei Wuxian is not sure he can handle yet. Reflexively, he tries to close his legs, only to be caught by Lan Wangji’s firm grip.
“Behave,” Lan Wangji orders, his voice a low, intoxicating command as he licks a slow stripe up to the base of Wei Wuxian’s fully erect cock. “The rest of your body seems quite obedient, wouldn’t you agree?”
A breathy whimper escapes Wei Wuxian’s half-parted lips as Lan Wangji’s tongue flicks over the sensitive skin of his tip, before easily taking Wei Wuxian’s entire cock into his mouth. Wei Wuxian groans when Lan Wangji’s lips close around him, enveloping him in heat. The sounds—the shameless, sensual slurps, paired with the teasing flicks of tongue—have Wei Wuxian purring.
He has never thought of himself as a sexual person—yet in Lan Wangji’s hands, his inhibitions crumble, washed away by the taste of his tongue, the bite of his wicked words.
Breath hitching, he watches as Lan Wangji bobs his head—mesmerized by the sight of Lan Wangji’s devilish lips wrapping around him. The erotic sight has him throbbing even harder, no doubt seeping precum into Lan Wangji’s waiting mouth. This isn’t like his fantasies—nothing like watching from afar, just imagining the warm slide of Lan Wangji’s lips.
No, Lan Wangji is really here, tangled up in him, completely devoted to his pleasure. Yet even now, Lan Wangji looks intoxicated himself, as though the taste of Wei Wuxian alone sends fire down his spine. From this angle, Wei Wuxian catches the way Lan Wangji grinds into the ground, seeking friction against his own aching erection.
Wei Wuxian moans as he spreads his legs wider. He ignores Lan Wangji’s smug chuckle as he bucks deeper, chasing that delicious slide. His hands find their way into Lan Wangji’s hair, fingers tugging gently, a wordless plea for more.
With a satisfied smirk, Lan Wangji pulls away with a sloppy pop, his tongue darting out to lap up the liquid gathering at Wei Wuxian’s tip. “Do you like my tongue that much, Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian whines and nods, his hips impatiently jerking forward.
“Then, why don’t you tell me how you’d like me to use it next?” Lan Wangji continues, nudging his nose against the tip. “Hmm? I’ll do anything for you.”
Wei Wuxian’s heart stutters, his cheeks flushing as he tilts his head back, caught between embarrassment and bliss.
Who the fuck gave Lan Wangji permission to turn into such an erotic fiend at night!?
“...I…I don’t know,” he mumbles, fighting to catch his breath.
“Oh, I think you do,” Lan Wangji hums, pulling away from Wei Wuxian’s cock with calculated slowness, lips drifting across Wei Wuxian’s thigh instead.
Wei Wuxian groans, aching from the loss, only to gasp as Lan Wangji bites down, marking him with a vivid red bloom. Lan Wangji’s eyes shine with dark satisfaction. He admires his handiwork before sprinkling in a few more matching marks.
“Well?” he asks, his lips brushing softly against Wei Wuxian’s thigh. “Are you ready to tell me what you want?”
“You…you can do anything you want, Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian breathes, a needy moan threading through his words.
“Oh?” Lan Wangji’s voice hums with amusement. “Be careful, Wei Ying. You may regret saying that. Are you truly ready to give me so much control?”
Wei Wuxian groans, half-laughing at his own stupid, helplessness. If he survives this exquisite torment, he’s marching straight to hell to give that damn devil who cursed this family a piece of his mind!
Though, truthfully… he’s not sure what he’ll say when he gets there. Because if Lan Wangji continues like this, Wei Wuxian might be bringing an offering—a tribute, even—in gratitude for this sinful bliss. He’s barely being touched, and yet he’s already melting, his body bending to Lan Wangji’s every word and touch.
Wei Wuxian is the true victim of this kinky curse—a willing puppet, helplessly tangled in the expert pull of Lan Wangji’s hands.
But…Wei Wuxian isn’t one to yield without a fight. Theoretically, they’re both on even footing as inexperienced virgins—though, Lan Wangji does have a slight edge with that unholy allure of his, a natural sensuality that’s near-impossible to compete with.
If Lan Wangji’s words are anything to go by, however, he’s just as undone by all this as Wei Wuxian. Meaning…he should be just as vulnerable to a little payback for making Wei Wuxian moan like some damsel in distress.
With a steely resolve, Wei Wuxian grabs Lan Wangji’s shoulders, forcing him upright. Lan Wangji silently quirks his brow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he patiently waits for Wei Wuxian’s next move—which is to, somewhat ungracefully, topple him onto his back.
Climbing over him, Wei Wuxian straddles Lan Wangji’s hips, knees pressing into the ground as he straightens up, baring himself fully to Lan Wangji’s admiring gaze.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Wei Wuxian says, voice slightly shaky but resolute. “I’m taking control!”
“Are you, now?” Lan Wangji growls, fingers digging possessively into Wei Wuxian’s ass. “And how do you plan on doing that?”
Wei Wuxian has already survived the most mortification he could ever endure, even worse than the dirty looks he received for trading his royal crown for potatoes and the arcane: getting caught masturbating while watching someone else masturbate.
Realistically, how much lower can he sink?
So, he decides to cast the rest of his reservations aside and give Lan Wangji a little show.
With a sly grin, he licks his fingers and begins to tease his nipples, arching his back provocatively as a moan slips out. Heat surges between them as he grinds his slick warmth against Lan Wangji’s hips.
Lan Wangji growls low in his throat, clearly aching to take back control, but Wei Wuxian presses him back down, smirking as Lan Wangji’s pupils dilate with raw, barely restrained lust.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji hisses, throat tight with need. “Let me touch you."
“No, thanks,” Wei Wuxian says playfully, swirling his finger in his mouth and pulling it out with a pop. “I think I’ll manage just fine by myself.”
Slowly, he glides his fingers over his hardened nipples while rubbing himself against Lan Wangji’s cock in deliberate, teasing rolls of the hips. Every brief brush of their erections has Wei Wuxian trembling, his body craving to be filled—to feel Lan Wangji’s cock deep inside him.
Lan Wangji moans, watching hungrily, hips lifting as he grinds back, his broad hands squeezing Wei Wuxian’s hips.
Feeling emboldened, Wei Wuxian slips his free hand lower, trailing it along his abdomen before playing with his own cock, his gaze never leaving Lan Wangji’s face. The look in Lan Wangji’s eyes—a blend of awe, longing, and hunger—has him hopelessly turned on.
“...Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji groans, each inhale shallow and strained. “Are you trying to make me lose my mind?”
“Maybe,” Wei Wuxian purrs, dipping his fingers lower until they’re wet with his slick, trailing a bit more of it over his hard nipples. “Is it working?”
Lan Wangji clenches his jaw, landing a firm slap to Wei Wuxian’s ass, his palm smacking so hard that Wei Wuxian shivers. “Do not test me.”
Ignoring the warning, Wei Wuxian lets his hand drift to Lan Wangji’s cock, gently wrapping his fingers around it. Lan Wangji’s eyes go wide, a shiver wracking through him as his head tips back, giving Wei Wuxian a tantalizing view of his heaving chest and the delicious strain of his throat.
Another low, intoxicating "Wei Ying" echoes from Lan Wangji’s lips, a sound that sends a jolt straight to Wei Wuxian’s cock. Smiling, he licks his lips and tightens his grip, marveling at the way Lan Wangji throbs under his touch.
With a surge of bravery, Wei Wuxian slides down and frames his hands around Lan Wangji’s cock, leaning down until his lips brush against the tip. Lan Wangji’s hips buck up as Wei Wuxian wraps his mouth around him, groaning as he takes him deeper.
“You are certainly full of…surprises tonight, aren’t you?” Lan Wangji rasps, fingers tangling in Wei Wuxian’s hair, shoving him deeper with a bruising grip.
Wei Wuxian barely stifles a muffled gasp as Lan Wangji’s cock rams into the back of his throat. But he quickly adjusts to the girth, reveling in the feel of Lan Wangji’s body shuddering beneath him.
His mouth is full—so, perfectly full. He smiles loopily, drooling all over this delicious cock.
Desire thickens in the air as Wei Wuxian speeds up, sucking harder, each movement and moan deliberate as he works his tongue along every inch. The raw, unfiltered groans from Lan Wangji are thrilling—a sound that Wei Wuxian wants to hear forever.
Lan Wangji’s grip in his hair tightens, and he struggles to speak between heavy breaths. “Wei Ying...do not lie to me. Have you done this before?”
Playfully, Wei Wuxian pulls back, a wicked smile on his swollen lips. “Hmm?”
His teasing earns him another swift, satisfying slap to his ass.
“Do not forget who is truly in control here,” Lan Wangji growls—that commanding, thrilling tone edging into his voice. “Answer me.”
A shiver of excitement races down Wei Wuxian’s spine. The urge to surrender and let Lan Wangji take charge is almost irresistible, but teasing him is equally addictive—a thrill that keeps his pulse racing.
He lowers his lashes, putting on his best wounded pout. “...Oh. Is that what you think of me, Lan Zhan? That I’d do this kind of thing with just anyone?”
Lan Wangji’s eyes widen. In an instant, he sits up and pulls Wei Wuxian into a crushing embrace. Wei Wuxian rests his chin on his shoulder, barely suppressing a grin.
“Oh, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji murmurs, his hand gently stroking Wei Wuxian’s back, “I would never think that of you.”
“Then,” Wei Wuxian pouts, “why assume I’m so experienced?”
Lan Wangji pulls back, capturing Wei Wuxian’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Despite the devilish horns crowning his temples, his expression is gentle, his touch almost reverent. Even bathed in moonlight, he feels more like the gallant prince who smiles so softly under the sun.
“Your skill is simply…impeccable,” Lan Wangji murmurs, running his thumb over Wei Wuxian’s lips. “It’s as if these lips were made to pleasure me—to call my name. It's as if you were made for me.”
Eyes fluttering closed, Wei Wuxian melts into the touch. “Maybe that’s true,” he says quietly. “Maybe I’m cursed to be enchanted by you, forever.”
Lan Wangji’s breath catches, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated. “Are you certain you’re not the incubus here?”
Wei Wuxian laughs, winding his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck to steal another kiss. “Who knows? Maybe I should look into getting a matching curse. Might come in handy for my business. Say, do you have that devil’s contact info? Maybe I can strike a deal with—”
Lan Wangji silences him with a possessive kiss, hands sliding around to the back of Wei Wuxian’s neck. “Any more talk of that, and I’ll have to lock you in the tower.”
“Sounds good to me. Every necromancer needs a spooky lair,” Wei Wuxian teases.
Lan Wangji’s smirk is dangerous. “In your case, a dungeon. I cannot let a beautiful creature like you run wild.”
“Oh, yeah?” Wei Wuxian smirks back, pushing Lan Wangji down with a glint of mischief. “Then I’d better enjoy my freedom while I can.”
Before Lan Wangji can respond, Wei Wuxian drops to his knees and lifts his hips, adjusting his position so that Lan Wangji’s cock nudges his tight hole, now completely seeping with slick.
Lan Wangji’s eyes widen, his breathing ragged. “Let me prepare you first. You cannot simply—”
“Who says I’m not prepared?” Wei Wuxian grins, slipping his hand around Lan Wangji’s cock. “I spent plenty of time getting ready for you earlier.”
Lan Wangji groans. He slaps his hands onto Wei Wuxian’s hips, steadying him as he guides him downward. “...You are going to be the death of me.”
With a mischievous smile, Wei Wuxian rubs the head of Lan Wangji’s cock between his cheeks, tracing slow, tantalizing circles until it’s slick with arousal. His body responds eagerly, muscles instinctively loosening, anticipating the stretch.
The tip slides in with ease, and the sensation has him trembling, on the edge of release already. The fullness is exquisite—but he craves even more.
He needs to take every inch.
Lan Wangji’s breathing picks up, his grip tightening to the point of bruising as he watches, transfixed, as his cock slowly disappears between Wei Wuxian’s thick ass. “You’re so tight, Wei Ying,” he rasps, eyes blazing with desire. “Are you sure you can handle all of me?”
Wei Wuxian lets out a husky laugh, a fresh wave of slickness easing Lan Wangji’s cock even deeper. The sight of Lan Wangji’s taut abdomen tensing beneath him sends a shiver through him, filling him with a wild, desperate need.
Instead of answering verbally, he suddenly slams his hips down, taking Lan Wangji’s cock to the hilt.
Stars burst in his vision.
Wei Wuxian tips his head back, releasing a raw, guttural moan from the depths of his soul. “...Oh, fuck.”
He’s so full—so fucking full.
Utterly complete.
The ache in his core throbs with satisfaction as he rocks his hips, mind swimming in the sensation of Lan Wangji buried deeply within him. His muscles clench instinctively, trying to keep him locked inside.
“...Fuck,” Lan Wangji echoes, a word that Wei Wuxian didn’t think he was physically capable of saying.
They both pause, breathless, before the rhythm takes them under. The quiet forest echoes with the sinful sounds of their joining—slick, lewd, and reverberating in the stillness. Each sound blends with Wei Wuxian’s moans, which carry a devilish edge that only an incubus’ lover could summon.
Wei Wuxian moves instinctively, focused on a single goal: to ride Lan Wangji so hard the entire fucking Earth shakes.
“God, Lan Zhan,” he gasps, his words slipping into needy moans. "Fuck, you feel good!"
Lan Wangji’s mouth lifts in a smirk, his hips rolling to match Wei Wuxian’s pace. “You’re so wet for me,” he rasps. “So beautiful, Wei Ying—riding my cock like this.”
Wei Wuxian shivers, unexpectedly thrilled by the filthy words from Lan Wangji’s usually reserved mouth. He’s suddenly grateful for the bruising hold on his hips that’s locking him in place.
“You—Ah!”
He cries out in pleasure as Lan Wangji thrusts into the perfect spot, nearly choking on his own breath as he collapses forward, hands braced on Lan Wangji’s shoulders to steady himself.
“Too much for you?” Lan Wangji purrs, trailing kisses up Wei Wuxian’s forearm. “Should I ease up for your fragile little body? I’d hate to break you.”
Wei Wuxian snarls playfully, swallowing those tormenting lips in a bruising kiss.
“Not even close.” He slides his arms forward, framing Lan Wangji’s face as he rocks his hips back and forth on Lan Wangji’s cock, spine arching with every thrust. “I’m not as fragile as you think—you’ll have to try a lot harder than that to break me, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Wangji smirks, delivering another sharp smack to Wei Wuxian’s ass. “Is that a challenge, Wei Ying?”
“Maybe,” Wei Wuxian teases, pressing a quick kiss to Lan Wangji’s lips before adjusting his position.
Bracing his knees against the ground, he rises up until only the tip remains inside before slamming back down.
Lan Wangji bites his lower lip, his gaze dark as he watches Wei Wuxian impale himself again and again. He’s not even trying to suppress the low, feral growls rumbling in his throat. But that predatory look in his eyes only riles Wei Wuxian up.
He wants Lan Wangji deeper, wants him to push so far that he could feel his cock reach his fucking throat.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian gasps, riding harder, letting out broken cries of pleasure. “...Fuck!”
Lan Wangji’s cock fills him so perfectly, every thrust sending sparks up his spine. He stretches him in ways that leave Wei Wuxian half-wild with pleasure, savoring the ache that quickly melts into something undeniably sweet.
“You like that, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji grunts, slapping his hips harder as he thrusts upward, like he’s trying to claim every inch of him.
“Fuck, yes,” Wei Wuxian moans, raking a trembling hand through his hair to anchor himself against the mounting pleasure. “Please…more.”
With a deep groan, Lan Wangji obliges, nearly overwhelming him with each powerful thrust. Wei Wuxian’s mind blanks as he teeters on the edge of consciousness.
A twisted thought fills his muddled brain: being fucked to death by way of a massive, incubus cock wouldn’t be such a terrible way to go. There are plenty of ways to revive oneself, after all—ways to experience that lethal bliss again and again.
Lan Wangji easily catches the glazed look in his eyes, growling as he tangles his hand in Wei Wuxian’s hair, pulling him in for a searing kiss.
“What are you thinking about?” he demands, eyes fierce. “Your focus should be on me.”
Wei Wuxian chuckles hazily. “Death by cock,” he mumbles, blissed-out.
Which, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Lan Wangji’s eyes flash, jealousy flaring—jealousy of his own fucking cock.
“Since you have the leisure to fantasize,” he growls, flipping their positions with effortless strength, keeping himself buried deep inside Wei Wuxian, “I must be going too easy on you.”
And that’s all the warning he gives before he starts fucking forward with unrelenting force.
Wei Wuxian’s naïve assumption that riding Lan Wangji was the peak of pleasure shatters in an instant. He’s never felt anything like this—like he could break and remake himself in Lan Wangji’s hold.
His breath hitches, breaking into soft, stuttered gasps as Lan Wangji fucks him with a rhythm that makes his entire body tremble. The cool grass beneath him contrasts sharply with the heat coursing through his veins. His hands fall above his head, wrists loosely crossed, as though bound by invisible ties.
Through hazy eyes, Wei Wuxian watches the way Lan Wangji moves—taut abdomen flexing as he thrusts his cock, a satisfying slap of skin echoing with every powerful snap.
Wei Wuxian is stretched so wonderfully wide. His body curves perfectly around Lan Wangji, as if he was molded just for him—created just to get fucked by his cock.
Legs quivering, he digs his heels into the grass, swaying his hips so he can impale himself even deeper—desperate to match Lan Wangji’s unyielding pace. Arousal coils deep in his stomach. Even without stimulation, his own cock throbs desperately.
“…Lan Zhan,” he moans, his voice a weak whimper, “I’m…so close…”
Smirking, Lan Wangji leans down to frame Wei Wuxian’s face between his hands.
“Then, come for me,” he orders, licking the shell of Wei Wuxian’s ear. “I’ll fuck you through it—just the way you want.”
The erotic words are like a spell. A shiver runs through Wei Wuxian's entire body as he climaxes, his voice breaking on a cry of Lan Wangji’s name. His back arches sharply, his hips jerking upward as he covers himself in thick ribbons of cum. Every fiber of his being seems to vibrate with the aftermath, his lips parting to release soft, breathless whimpers.
“Good boy,” Lan Wangji whispers, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. His hands sink so deep into the flesh of Wei Wuxian’s hips that he nearly draws blood. He fucks forward, spearing in relentlessly as he chases his own release.
Wei Wuxian’s mind goes blank—save for one thought, and one thought alone: Lan Wangji.
He is hopelessly entranced by Lan Wangji’s aroused face—the way he clenches his jaw, how he traces every angle of Wei Wuxian’s body like he’s trying to memorize him. Completely dazed, Wei Wuxian whimpers and instinctively reaches his arms out, desperate to cling to him—to pull their bodies impossibly tight, as if they could merge their souls together.
With a little smirk on his face, Lan Wangji leans down, patiently letting Wei Wuxian cling to his neck even as he maintains a steady pace, sliding his cock in and out of Wei Wuxian’s dripping ass.
After inhaling the invigorating scent of sandalwood, Wei Wuxian feels a bit of strength returning. He squeezes his arms with all his might. Even then, he’s still dissatisfied that he can’t absorb more of Lan Wangji.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji calls, a hint of amusement in his voice. “What’s wrong? Hmm? Was it too much for you?”
Wei Wuxian violently shakes his head. He whips his head back, eyes glistening as he meets Lan Wangji’s mesmerizing gaze.
“...I need more of you, Lan Zhan,” he whimpers in a broken voice. “Please. Come inside of me?”
Lan Wangji makes a strangled sound, a guttural growl rumbling deep in his throat. His face twists, and he clenches his jaw as he sinks his cock to the hilt, immediately coating Wei Wuxian’s insides with a warm release.
Wei Wuxian’s body softens, his features relaxing as he sighs contentedly.
That's much better.
The moment is perfect—Lan Wangji surrounding him, within him, a presence so overwhelming it leaves him utterly weightless. His eyelids flutter shut as he surrenders to the sensation, only to be drawn back by the firm grip of Lan Wangji’s hand on his chin.
“What in the world are you, Wei Ying!?” Lan Wangji rasps, panting heavily.
Wei Wuxian smiles faintly, barely able to form words. “Yours.”
Completely spent, his body collapses into the ground, a serene calm washing over him as he rests comfortably beneath Lan Wangji’s steady gaze. They remain joined together, the occasional subtle shift drawing more quiet sounds of satisfaction from Wei Wuxian.
Lan Wangji exhales a long, steady breath before wrapping Wei Wuxian in his arms, pressing him close as though he could shield him from the rest of the world.
Wei Wuxian nuzzles into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck, a soft hum of contentment escaping him as sleep beckons. But just as he begins to drift, Lan Wangji’s quiet laugh rouses him.
“Enjoy your little rest, Wei Ying,” he whispers, tucking stray strands of hair behind his ear. His voice lowers, carrying an ominous promise. “We are far from finished.”
Dawn breaks, bringing with it fresh aches.
Wei Wuxian stirs, momentarily convinced that the incubus transformation was a fever dream and that he had, in fact, spent the night wrestling a rampaging bull. Muscles he didn’t even know existed groan in protest as he shifts. A colorful array of red marks and bruises blooms across his skin.
He blinks blearily, disoriented to find himself in the cabin, bundled in a fortress of blankets on the bed. Gradually, he pieces together the haze of memories.
That’s right. Somewhere between rounds seven and ten, Lan Wangji had scooped him up, carried him back here, and decided to experiment with bondage and bedposts for variety.
The gentle hiss of a wok sizzling cuts through the air. Sunlight seeps in through the cracked ceiling, pooling like liquid gold in the makeshift kitchen. There stands Lan Wangji, fully dressed—a rare sight after such a night of debauchery. His horns and tail are gone, but the glow of moonlight still seems to cling to his skin, an ethereal sheen that leaves Wei Wuxian both awestruck and bitterly envious.
Lan Wangji looks like he just stepped out of a painting—Wei Wuxian feels like he just crawled out of a damn combat pit.
A makeshift apron, likely sewn by Lan Wangji himself, wraps snugly around his waist. A parade of songbirds flits around him like dutiful kitchen attendants, their vibrant feathers flashing as they fetch utensils and ingredients. Some hum a lilting melody, weaving an air of tranquility that feels almost surreal after last night.
Wei Wuxian groans as he forces himself upright. The blankets tumble around his bare form, leaving him shamelessly exposed to the cool morning air.
At the sound, Lan Wangji freezes mid-stir and carefully sets down his spoon, tugging off his apron. His ethereal beauty is magnified by the soft light that—almost impossibly—follows him like a spotlight as he crosses the room.
Settling on the edge of the bed, he presses a tender kiss to Wei Wuxian’s lips and whispers a warm, “Good morning, Wei Ying.”
Somehow, being face-to-face with Lan Wangji after the events of the previous night leaves Wei Wuxian…oddly embarrassed. A strangled whimper escapes him—his voice raspy from straining his lungs all night—as he buries his face into Lan Wangji’s robes.
“M-M-Morning!”
Lan Wangji chuckles softly and rubs soothing circles on Wei Wuxian’s back. “What’s wrong?”
Grunting, Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “...Nothing.”
“Then, let me see your beautiful face.” Lan Wangji tilts Wei Wuxian’s chin up gently, stealing another kiss. “Breakfast is almost ready. Are you hungry?”
Wei Wuxian’s nose twitches as he catches the delicious scents wafting through the air. Admittedly, he’s been dying to try one of Lan Wangji’s home-cooked meals; he’s never had the opportunity, always too busy scurrying off at dawn for a chaotic morning of curse-breaking.
He nods, rubbing his growling stomach. “Lan Zhan, what did you make?”
“You’ll see.” Lan Wangji ruffles his tousled hair before returning to the kitchen.
With a snap of his fingers, he commands his bird army to spring into action. In an almost comedic flurry of activity, they fashion a makeshift breakfast-in-bed tray from a pile of wooden planks and nails scavenged from a post in the corner—hopefully nothing load-bearing. Using their beaks as hammers, they assemble something surprisingly sturdy, the craftsmanship oddly impressive.
Chest feathers puffed with pride, the birds work together to cart the tray to the bedside. Wei Wuxian accepts it with an awkward smile, his jaw dropping when Lan Wangji strides over, balancing three crowded plates on his forearms as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“I have prepared a few modest dishes,” Lan Wangji says, perfectly arranging the plates on the tray. “Hopefully, at least one of them suits your palate.”
Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops so low it nearly smacks his aching groin. Drool escapes his mouth, and as always, the birds swoop in to clean up the mess.
…This is modest!?
A golden potato rösti stacked with layers of roasted vegetables and topped with perfectly poached eggs stares back at him, its crowning glory a rich pumpkin hollandaise sauce glistening with smoked paprika.
And that’s just the first plate.
The second features buttery croissants soaked in a savory custard, topped with caramelized leeks and shredded cheese. They’re puffed to perfection, served alongside a crisp salad of greens and lightly pickled apples.
For the finale, there’s a galette pastry with delicately arranged apple slices forming a rose in its center, drizzled generously with salted caramel.
Wei Wuxian gawks, convinced he really did get fucked to death and has since ascended to heaven. He twitches, frozen with indecision as he grapples with the impossible decision of figuring out where to start.
Lan Wangji quietly loads a fork. “Here, Wei Ying. Say, ‘ah.’”
“Ah,” Wei Wuxian obliges, his eyes widening as a bite melts on his tongue. Mind blank, he searches for words to describe this perfect dish, only worthy of the finest prose!
“Oh, fuck me.”
Lan Wangji smiles, already sneaking another bite into Wei Wuxian’s waiting mouth. “That is a compliment, I presume?”
Wei Wuxian swallows, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss. “Lan Zhan, you’re a damn culinary genius.”
“The credit is yours, Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji replies with a soft laugh. “These dishes were only made possible by the quality of the ingredients.”
Wei Wuxian tilts his head, leaning in to scrutinize the rösti. He closes his eyes and sniffs deeply. The comforting aroma of freshly tilled soil after rain, with a faint, foggy sweetness, rises to greet him. An otherworldly sheen clings to the rösti’s golden crust.
“...This was made with my potatoes?” he whispers, stunned.
It’s been so long since he’s seen his vegetables used for anything other than Jiang Cheng’s “scorched-earth hash” that he nearly forgot he’d packed some for the journey. Though, how Lan Wangji managed to raid the carriage’s storage compartment this morning without waking Jiang Cheng remains one of life’s great mysteries.
Lan Wangji nods. “Your potatoes are unparalleled. I have never seen their equal.”
Tears prick at the corners of Wei Wuxian’s eyes.
There’s no greater honor for his beloved spuds than to be transformed into a dish this exquisite! Everything in his life was worth it for this moment—relinquishing his royal title, building a small business from the burial ground up, and even surviving a frightening encounter with a devil’s dog.
Overcome with joy, he stuffs another bite into his mouth, savoring the savory blend of his handiwork and Lan Wangji’s affectionate touch.
He beams. “There’s custard in this, right? Where’d you get the eggs? You know, raising chickens is actually next on my to-do list. I just have to figure out how to keep them from picking at the bodies first.”
Smiling, Lan Wangji gestures toward his fluttering entourage of birds. They chirp proudly—though Wei Wuxian can’t help imagining Lan Wangji commanding them to work overtime, plopping out eggs as if their lives depended on it.
“...Thank you,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, heart impossibly full.
Without taking a bite himself, Lan Wangji continues to hand-feed Wei Wuxian, pride shimmering in his gaze at each satisfied sigh. Soon enough, Wei Wuxian’s attention drifts from the fantastic food to Lan Wangji’s flawless face.
It still feels surreal. To think that he actually spent a passionate night entwined with this beautiful man, the pinnacle of perfection. Man, woman, incubus, rampaging bull—no one can compete with this prince.
…A prince who, Wei Wuxian realizes with a sinking feeling, is supposed to meet his future husband today—a man who, very stupidly, isn’t Wei Wuxian!
His stomach churns at the thought. He clenches his fists. There’s no way he’s letting Lan Wangji marry that smug brat. If it comes to it, he will gladly engage in a potato-slinging battle for the ages to win Lan Wangji’s hand in marriage!
Assuming Lan Wangji wants to marry him, that is.
Wei Wuxian sneaks another glance at his prince. After last night’s activities, he is pretty confident that Lan Wangji likes him enough to say, “I do.”
…Right!?
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji prods softly, patiently waiting with another forkful of frittata. “Are you full?”
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, fiddling with his fingers. “That’s not it. I just thought that, uh, maybe we should talk about…last night.”
Panic flashes across Lan Wangji’s face. The fork lands in the frittata with a soft splat.
“...What do you mean?” he rasps, voice trembling. “ If…if you were dissatisfied in any way, please tell me. I will do anything to—”
“No, no, no!” Wei Wuxian waves his hands wildly, then yanks Lan Wangji in for a sloppy kiss, smearing caramel drizzle over his lips. “Fuck, Lan Zhan. You were perfect! It’s just…” He hesitates, cheeks reddening. “We’ll make it to Nightless City later today. So, uh, I was wondering…are you still planning on marrying Wen Chao?”
He stares into the abyss of the apple galette, realizing that getting his brains thoroughly fucked out by someone who is technically engaged to another prince is probably the kind of ‘scandal-starting’ behavior that Jiang Cheng always lectures him about.
And yet, Lan Wangji laughs—a soft, genuine sound. He pinches Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “You would truly ask that after last night? Wei Ying, I never intended to marry that man.”
“...Really!?”
“Really.”
Wei Wuxian exhales half his soul in relief. Lan Wangji is there to seal it back with a sweet kiss that makes Wei Wuxian’s toes curl. After enjoying the taste of caramel that lingers on those beautiful lips, Wei Wuxian sits back and grins, the picture of a man fully at peace.
For a moment, anyway. The next issue presses in as he stuffs his cheeks with another bite of rösti.
“What should I do about my farm, then?” he mumbles through the mouthful. “I was, uh, supposed to trade you for the refugees.”
Lan Wangji smirks, the glint in his eyes resembling that of his other form. He snaps his fingers, and his birds unsheathe his sword with unnerving precision. “Execution is a viable alternative, should discussions not prove productive.”
Wei Wuxian gapes. “Lan Zhan…I know you’ve lived a pretty sheltered life, but you can’t just murder people you don’t like—especially not another kingdom’s prince!”
“I will not tolerate anyone who threatens you,” Lan Wangji says firmly.
“...Right. Sure. Okay. Maybe let me handle Wen Chao?” The thought of Wen Chao still sours Wei Wuxian’s mood, but as he recalls that ridiculous banquet, a sudden memory sparks in his mind. “Hey, Lan Zhan. I just remembered something.”
“Hmm?”
Wei Wuxian leans in close, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he whispers, “I never promised him you—I only told him that I’d bring him the ‘beauty’. Just showing him your pretty face should be enough to satisfy my end of the agreement.”
“Very astute," Lan Wangji laughs, softly brushing Wei Wuxian’s cheek. "Perhaps your former self had an inkling about our fated meeting."
Wei Wuxian laughs along awkwardly. He’s pretty sure his former self had no such foresight—more like he was simply too inebriated to think about the finer details.
“So, that still leaves one more problem,” he mutters. “If you’re not staying in Nightless City, then…um, where are you planning to go?”
Lan Wangji flashes a smile that makes Wei Wuxian’s heart flutter. “I have heard wonderful things about Yiling.”
Wei Wuxian’s cheeks flush a deep crimson. He bashfully presses his fingertips together. “It’s a really nice place. Especially during autumn.”
For a brief, blissful moment, his imagination takes flight: a quiet life with Lan Wangji by his side. Days spent tending to the fields, nights filled with laughter, occult rituals, and stolen kisses under the stars. The vision is so perfect it almost aches.
But, reality rears its head. Wei Wuxian shifts uncomfortably, suddenly self-conscious about the life he leads. Even a prince raised in a creepy tower must have higher standards than a graveyard!
“Say, Lan Zhan,” he whispers. “Random question, but…how do you feel about dead bodies?”
“Quite comfortable, actually," Lan Wangji replies, smiling. "I often buried cadavers during my spare time in the tower.”
Wei Wuxian blinks, stunned. “Wait. Really?”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji nods. “It was a practical necessity.”
Growing more eager, Wei Wuxian leans forward. “Then, I’m guessing you don’t mind getting your hands dirty? Literally? Like…working in the fields, for example? Planting vegetables?”
“How do you think I sustained myself all these years?” Lan Wangji replies softly. “Though, my modest vegetable garden was certainly nothing compared to yours.”
“And…And how do you feel about rain? And fog!?”
“Nothing compares to the scent of the Earth after rainfall,” Lan Wangji answers easily. “And truthfully, I find fog preferable to lava.”
Wei Wuxian smiles. “Favorite vegetable?”
“Your potatoes,” Lan Wangji replies without hesitation, a hint of amusement in his smirk.
Wei Wuxian bursts into laughter, playfully smacking Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Sounds like we have a lot in common, then.”
Lan Wangji catches Wei Wuxian’s hand with ease, his grip firm but gentle as he brings it to his lips. One by one, he kisses each knuckle. “Mn. It is as if a greater power has determined that we are perfect for each other.”
Wei Wuxian squints, leaning forward to scrutinize the peculiar glimmer in Lan Wangji’s eyes. His lips twitch suspiciously. “...Lan Zhan, why do I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something?”
Lan Wangji’s smirk is maddeningly serene as he loads another bite of caramel-drizzled rösti and nudges it toward Wei Wuxian’s still-pursed lips. “I never explained the second layer of my curse, did I?”
Wei Wuxian perks up, chewing thoughtfully. He shakes his head, curiosity lighting his eyes.
Admittedly, the mystery of the second-layer was relegated to the back of his mind. Not for lack of skill or diligence, obviously—he was just too busy masturbating and subsequently getting fucked to near-death to engage in thoughtful reflection.
Heat rushes to his cheeks at the memory of their passionate night, vivid and shameless.
Lan Wangji, clearly attuned to the direction of Wei Wuxian’s wayward thoughts, leans closer with a devilish glint in his eyes. His low whisper feels like silk against Wei Wuxian’s nerves.
“Let me tell you now, then. I am cursed with insatiable nighttime lust,” he murmurs, licking a stray drop of caramel from Wei Wuxian’s lips, “directed exclusively toward one person—my soulmate.”
Wei Wuxian’s chewing slows to a stop. He stares blankly, his mind processing. Sounds like the handiwork of a typical devil, alright—always putting a twisted spin on the trite, overblown concept of true love—
Oh.
His jaw falls open.
The enchanted songbirds trill an overly jubilant tune. Lan Wangji chuckles, reaching over to nudge Wei Wuxian’s gaping mouth closed—though it pops right back open.
“You, me...” Wei Wuxian gestures wildly between them. “Soulmates!?”
“Mn. That is correct.” Lan Wangji reaches out, his thumb brushing against Wei Wuxian’s flushed cheek. His voice softens, warm and unwavering. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Wei Wuxian snaps his fingers, claps his hands, waves madly at the songbirds—anything to get them to take his breakfast tray away. The birds chirp indignantly but obey. The instant the table is cleared, Wei Wuxian grabs Lan Wangji by the shoulders and drags him into bed.
They collapse side by side, legs naturally tangling together. Wei Wuxian’s hands immediately wander to Lan Wangji’s face, dramatically squishing his smug cheeks.
“Be honest—are you hiding your horns!? Because you’re sounding suspiciously like a damn incubus right now!”
“No,” Lan Wangji laughs as he easily catches Wei Wuxian’s hands, lacing their fingers together. “I am simply enchanted by you every moment of every day.”
Wei Wuxian groans, though the grin threatening to take over his face betrays him. Soulmates are a true rarity in this day and age—and yet, here he is, entangled with the most infuriatingly perfect man in existence.
“...Damn,” he mutters, shaking his head, though the smile blooms wider. “Damn.”
“My apologies if you were expecting a different prince in a tower,” Lan Wangji teases.
Wei Wuxian scoffs, burying his face in the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck. “Not a fucking chance.”
Lan Wangji hums, quietly pulling Wei Wuxian closer. The diligent songbirds flutter over to tuck the blankets over them before making a graceful exit. Even the sun seems to align with the mood, shifting to spill golden light over the bed.
Wei Wuxian peeks up at Lan Wangji’s handsome face. “Hey, Lan Zhan?”
“Yes, Wei Ying?”
Nuzzling closer, Wei Wuxian whispers, “I don’t think I want to break your curse anymore.”
“Well, I suppose you are in luck,” Lan Wangji answers, the smirk evident in his teasing lilt, “because it became irreversible the moment I met you.”
“What are you—” Wei Wuxian suddenly shoots upright, glaring down at the smug man curling around his waist. “You knew the curse was unbreakable this whole damn time!?”
Lan Wangji’s lips curl into an unapologetic smile as he presses teasing kisses down Wei Wuxian’s exposed abdomen. “Yes. I believe I mentioned this fact several times.”
Mortified, Wei Wuxian groans and flops onto the mattress, burying his face in the sheets. All those mornings tormenting poor Lan Wangji, testing increasingly absurd rituals to ‘break the curse’—he’s officially the worst necromancer in history!
“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan,” he mumbles. “I’m an idiot!”
Lan Wangji chuckles, his fingers gently threading through Wei Wuxian’s tangled hair. “On the contrary—your earnest efforts were adorable.”
“I cracked an egg on your head!” Wei Wuxian wails.
“You did,” Lan Wangji concedes. “Fortuitously, yolks are excellent for hair health.”
Wei Wuxian’s face goes pale. “I basically pushed you off a cliff!”
“The view was breathtaking.”
“...You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Wei Wuxian grumbles, shoving his face into the pillow. “Absolutely unbelievable.”
The bed shifts, and Wei Wuxian gasps when a familiar weight settles atop his hips. Warm breath brushes his ear as Lan Wangji leans down, his long hair tickling Wei Wuxian’s back.
“While we’re on the subject,” Lan Wangji says, “I should mention that there is more to the curse.”
“...More?” Wei Wuxian croaks, his heart thudding.
Lan Wangji brushes Wei Wuxian’s hair aside, lips ghosting over his neck as he whispers, “My proclivities in the bedroom also rotate at random.”
Despite the warm lips nibbling down on his sensitive skin, Wei Wuxian erupts in a full-body shiver. Barely audible, he mumbles, “You mean…kinks?”
“Two nights ago involved tickling,” Lan Wangji answers casually. “The night before was asphyxiation.”
Wei Wuxian almost chokes.
“And as you’ve already experienced,” Lan Wangji continues, grinding down suggestively, “my desires affect your body when we’re near.”
Wei Wuxian’s eye twitches.
Who is responsible for this!? Which unhinged Lan ancestor decided to happily prance their way down to hell and buddy up with the kinkiest fucking devil in the underworld!?
“Ah.” Lan Wangji suddenly sits up, his tone thoughtful—though Wei Wuxian can practically see the mischief glinting in his eyes. “Wei Ying, take caution if an uncontrollable heat and insatiable libido overtakes you at night, unless you are interested in bearing my—”
“Enough!” Wei Wuxian squeaks, squeezing the pillow. “L-L-Let’s save this for later! Talking about this kind of stuff during the day is…kind of…”
He trails off, softly moaning as Lan Wangji’s large hands trail along his body with deliberate, teasing slowness. Lan Wangji’s lips follow close behind, pressing warm kisses to the spots his touch has already set alight.
“I hope you are prepared, Wei Ying,” he murmurs, his voice a deep, resonant promise that sends a shiver straight down Wei Wuxian’s spine. "There is no turning back now."
Wei Wuxian isn’t entirely sure what he’s in for—he’s still trying to recover from last night, where he went from a clueless virgin to a contender for the most sexual encounters in a single evening. And yet, knowing there’s an entire world of pleasure waiting to be teased out by Lan Wangji’s devilish hands, his heart beats with something perilously close to sinful excitement.
Not that he’d admit that. Not yet, at least.
Feeling a little mischievous, he lifts his head and purses his lips. “Hmm. I don’t know, Lan Zhan. Sounds kind of rough. What happens if I decide to skip town because I don’t like the terms and conditions of your weird, kinky curse?”
Lan Wangji scoffs before effortlessly flipping Wei Wuxian onto his back. Wei Wuxian barely has time to blink before he finds himself pinned beneath those dangerous, smoldering golden eyes that still seem to shimmer with traces of his otherworldly form.
“Then,” Lan Wangji whispers, as he grips Wei Wuxian’s chin and brushes his thumb over his lower lip, “I will relentlessly hunt you down, stopping at nothing until you are back in my arms.”
Wei Wuxian grins. “Huh. Well, I'd hate to put you through all that hassle. I guess that means we’ll just have to stay together…” He loops his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, pulling him close, their foreheads touching as he whispers, “…forever?”
Lan Wangji’s lips curve into a breathtaking smile, one filled with unspoken adoration, before he seals Wei Wuxian’s words with a deep, lingering kiss.
“Forever.”