Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Furtively, Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying.

The woman who claims to be her future wife is busy making tea, humming a song that makes Lan Wangji’s body tingly. Wei Ying says she’s been cursed, that she’s not actually eleven years old anymore, but thirty-six. Twenty five years of her memory and physical growth are missing. 

Lan Wangji is not sure she believes her, but she cannot deny that Wei Ying is in possession of Lan robes and a ribbon of her own. Wei Ying is also the only other person Lan Wangji has seen today, for no one has passed by their camp site in this hidden meadow. She has been kind, taking care of Lan Wangji and not treating her like an infant.

They had a conversation earlier where Wei Ying explained that they were not breaking rules but not returning to Cloud Recesses right away. “You’re mine just as I am yours, and I’m pretty sure this curse is only temporary,” Wei Ying had explained. “I’ll just make sure you’re taken care of until then, and if something happens, we’ll call for someone to help. Don’t worry so much, Lan Zhan, everything will be okay! No need to pout like that!”

Lan Wangji was not pouting, but Wei Ying still reached out and tugged on her bottom lip. 

Ever since, Lan Wangji has found herself… uncomfortable. There is an odd pressure in her body that she doesn’t know what to do with. Shifting how she’s sitting, she rests the heel of her foot against her privates. The area is oddly warm.

Experimentally, she presses her heel closer. Underneath her pants, her skin squishes but it doesn’t hurt. No, it… it feels good. Leaning forward, she presses her body further into the feeling, and gasps a little despite herself. 

“Lan Zhan? Is everything okay?”

Lan Wangji corrects her stance at once, her fingers curling in her lap. “Yes, Wei-jiejie.”

“Okay…,” she replies skeptically. She tilts her head, hair spilling freely over her shoulder. “If you need anything, just let me know, okay?”

“Mm,” she says.

Wei Ying goes back to the tea, and Lan Wangji goes back to what she was doing as well. It feels good but soon enough she decides it’s not enough, her body hitching as she tries to… to… she doesn’t know. Get closer, get more of the pleasurable sensation.

She realizes too late that Wei Ying has finished and turned towards her. That she has seen Lan Wangji doing this—whatever this is.

“Oh!”

Lan Wangji’s face goes entirely red as she forces herself to stop and sit up again. Quickly, she says, “I—Wei-jiejie, I apologize. I shouldn’t have—“

“Oh no, honey, no. Are you—“ Wei Ying cuts herself off, walking on her knees to get closer. Once she’s in front of her, Wei Ying swallows and looks at her with oddly bright eyes. “Were you touching yourself?”

Lan Wangji has never heard this phrase before but understands that it is something adult without having to ask. The way Wei Ying says it… her gut clenches warmly. 

She can only say, “I apologize,” again, terribly embarrassed and ashamed of herself.

“No, Lan Zhan, it’s okay. It’s normal, especially around your age. Did it… feel good?”

Lan Wangji knows she deserves punishment, but Wei Ying is the only adult around. If she says it’s okay, maybe it is? Lan Wangji cannot remember a specific rule that would cover this situation, her mind a bit foggy with pleasure.

“Yes,” she whispers. 

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moans, squeezing her legs together. “Oh fuck. God, you’re so—have you, have you ever done that before?”

Lan Wangji shakes her head shyly.

Wei Ying has to take a moment to collect herself. Taking a deep breath, she asks, “Do you want me to show you how to do it so it feels even better?”

Excitement lights up inside Lan Wangji. “It can feel better?”

“A lot better,” Wei Ying promises. “Lay down for me.”

Lan Wangji does so, trusting her implicitly. She shivers when Wei Ying takes off her socks, then her pants. Her lower half is bared to Wei Ying’s eyes and she flushes, wondering what the woman thinks. They’re married, so she must have seen the adult Lan Wangji’s body naked before. How much will she change in twenty five years?

“Gorgeous,” Wei Ying murmurs, smiling sweetly at her. “You’re the cutest, Lan Zhan, always. But like this, you just look so small… I could eat you right up, couldn’t I?”

“Only if it feels good,” Lan Wangji says, and Wei Ying bursts out laughing. 

“It will, honey,” she swears, and lays down between Lan Wangji’s legs. 

Lan Wangji doesn’t know what she’s doing down there, but her legs are shaking in anticipation anyway. Carefully, she reaches down and touches Wei Ying’s head, her hair silky and soft under her hands.

Then Wei Ying presses a kiss to her body right above her privates.

“Wei-jiejie,” she gasps, squirming. “You can’t, no one is supposed to touch me there. Zhangjie says….”

“I’m your wife,” Wei Ying reassures her, peeking up Lan Wangji’s body to meet her eyes. “I touch you here all the time. You told me once your pussy was mine to do whatever I want with.”

The vulgar word sends a shiver all throughout Lan Wangji’s body. There’s no time to reply, for Wei Ying is leaning back down and touching her tongue to—to Lan Wangji’s pussy.

The soft, slick touch makes her jump. It slides gently over a spot where the skin folds, sensitive and untouched. Lan Wangji pants as Wei Ying points her tongue and swirls over a different spot that lights up her nerves. Her tongue goes a little lower, suddenly flicking something, and Lan Wangji bucks her hips up, her fingers curling and pulling on Wei Ying’s hair. 

One of Wei Ying’s hands cups around the bottom of her thigh and caresses her there, soothing her even as she suctions her lips and sucks on that spot. Lan Wangji makes a noise she has never even heard before, a keening whine that only makes Wei Ying suck more and more, her tongue slipping over the nub endlessly.

A feeling rises in Lan Wangji’s body that she cannot explain. It’s heat and pleasure and it makes her writhe, her hips pressing up into Wei Ying’s mouth in a relentless wave. Her toes curl and her body clenches down around nothing.

“Wei-jiejie,” is all she manages to say before her future’s wife hand is coming up, her thumb pressing at Lan Wangji’s hole just under where her mouth is working.

Lan Wangji’s body convulses and shakes as pleasure overwhelms her. Wei Ying doesn’t stop touching her, though she gentles, lapping sweetly over her pussy until Lan Wangji has to push her away, sparking with oversensitivity. 

Wei Ying’s face is wet when she pulls away, her eyes shining. Laying down beside Lan Wangji, she pulls her smaller body into her side and brushes her hand over her hair. Lan Wangji is still wearing her ribbon, but she doesn’t protest when Wei Ying touches it. They are married, she thinks dazedly. It’s allowed.

“How was it? Was it good? Did I make it good for you?”

Lan Wangji has no experience to compare it against. All she knows is, “Can we do it again?”

Chapter Text

“Zhan-jie?” Wei Ying asks, tugging on Lan Wangji’s robes. Her voice wavers with tears, her face much redder than it was only minutes before when Wei Ying ran outside to play.

Dropping to her knee at once, Lan Wangji cups one precious, flushed cheek in her hand. After Wei Ying was caught in a curse days ago, Lan Wangji has found herself on edge, as if waiting for something bad to happen. She has attempted to push it away, for the anxiety does not help in their situation, but in this moment it rises in her once again. 

“What has happened? Are you alright?”

A little sob escapes from her young wife’s mouth. Screwing her eyes up, she tips forward into Lan Wangji’s chest, clutching now at the robes there. In halting words, interrupted by sobs, Wei Ying says, “I we-went by the garden, e-even though you s-s-said not to. I just, just wanted to see the f-flowers! But but then one of them—Zhan-jie, I tripped and, and knocked into one of them and it—it—“

Lan Wangji rubs her back soothingly, fearing she knows where this is going. “Shh, A’Ying, breathe. Go slow. What happened when you tripped?”

“It made powder go everywhere and it tasted weird, it tasted so weird and now I don’t feel good,” she moans. 

Lan Wangji shuts her eyes, sighing silently. Perhaps she should have expected this would happen. Wei Ying has been going from room to room of their cottage, exploring and examining every item she was tall enough—or creative enough—to reach. When Lan Wangji said not to touch this or that thing, she did it anyway, wanting to prove she wasn’t a baby and could do anything her adult self could do. 

Of course Lan Wangji saying to avoid their garden would go ignored. And of course Wei Ying would happen to find the exact plant Lan Wangji hoped she would avoid.

It’s a deceptively beautiful flower, petals swirled with shades of red. Its pollen is special, magical—and something they liked to partake in from time to time, but as adults. 

It induces sexual arousal in whoever inhales it. And now Wei Ying, who is some unclear age between nine and twelve, stunted from her life on the streets and confused from the curse, has been dosed.

Lan Wangji has not thought of herself as an entirely good person for large parts of her life. 

Ever since she first dreamed of forcing her fist into the cunt of the most annoying girl she ever met, she’s understood that her sexual proclivities are not very… proper. Or common. Or healthy, perhaps.

There were times she felt very bad about this—when she was first learning where her interests lied, and later, when she and Wei Ying were traveling together and she thought that she would never have a chance.

It took a long time for her wife to help her understand that there’s nothing to be ashamed of; that they love each other and that the things they do could never be wrong. If they both want it, if they both enjoy it, then who could complain?

Of course, they never told anyone else about their shared dreams, the visions of themselves as teenagers panting and flushed from their adult counterparts. The taboos they found pleasure in were held between them, bonding them even further. 

Through Wei Ying’s love, she has learned to accept herself for whatever she is, even the darkest parts of her that remind her starkly of her father. 

But surely this is a step too far. 

Lan Wangji’s ears are hot as she stares at her wife. The bath water splashes as her little body moves jerkily, her little cunt sopping as it drags over Lan Wangji’s knee. Feverish, she cannot stop whining, wanting something she doesn’t even understand. 

“Zhan-jie,” she mumbles, digging her nails into Lan Wangji’s bare thighs as her only hand-hold. “It’s not going away, why isn’t it going away?”

Once, Lan Wangji reminds herself, caught in between a haze of desire and guilt, Wei Ying said I could do anything and she would like it. As long as it’s me, she will enjoy whatever we do. 

Wet gray eyes peer at her, trusting her to fix this. 

She cannot let Wei Ying down.

“Come here,” she says, sitting back against the edge of the tub. “Sit in my lap.”

Wei Ying obeys without question, letting Lan Wangji guide her to sit with her back to her chest. Hooking one ankle over the over, Lan Wangji keeps her own legs straight and pressed tightly together. It’s not much stimulation but it’s something, and it it can keep the edge off until Wei Ying is taken care of, all the better. 

Then she carefully takes each of Wei Ying’s legs and pushes them open, feet flat on the floor of the tub. Wei Ying squirms, gasping noisy little breaths, her head pressing back into Lan Wangji’s breast as her body undulates against her will.

Beside the tub, there is a concoction Wei Ying made—a lubricant that isn’t affected by the water—and Lan Wangji grabs it, twisting the lid off swiftly. 

Impatient and unable to help herself, Wei Ying clumsily presses her fingers against her lower lips. It’s ineffective if her whines say anything, but the sight shoots lust through Lan Wangji so forcefully that her hands shake. 

Wresting control of herself back, she slathers the lube over one hand. 

“Wei Ying,” she says, cupping her little wife’s thin stomach. The muscles under her hand are shivering and tense like they often are when Wei Ying—the adult version of her—is on the verge of coming. “You must tell me if I hurt you, do you understand? This will help but we have to be careful.”

Wei Ying listens seriously, though it’s obviously difficult for her to focus. “Okay, Zhan-jie, I understand,” she swears, sniffling. “Just do it, please…”

Lan Wangji kisses her hair, hoping to soothe her as she reaches down between Wei Ying’s legs. Her hand is big enough to cup Wei Ying’s entire mound, and they both shudder as Lan Wangji’s fingers slip over her heated, sensitive skin. 

Knowing just what her wife likes, Lan Wangji keeps her touch gentle at first. Her thumb coasts down Wei Ying’s slit with almost no pressure, over the bump of her clit and the soft folds of her pussy, barely dipping into the hole. Wei Ying clutches at her wrist, whining and pleading for more.

Whole face hot with desire, Lan Wangji flattens her hand against Wei Ying, catching her clit between two of her fingers. Carefully, she begins to twirl her fingers, rolling the hood between her knuckles. Her fingers dip low enough for one to press into her hole, just the tip hooking inside.

Wei Ying squeezes rhythmically, her hips jerking forward into the touches. One of her hands attempts to reach down, but Lan Wangji grabs it, pulling it up to her chest where she shows Wei Ying how to pluck at her nipples. They’re small, and Lan Wangji isn’t sure how sensitive they may be, but it gives her something to do to distract herself. 

Lan Wangji’s fingers work over her pussy, rubbing at and caressing every spot Wei Ying likes, before finally rubbing circles over her clit. 

“Zhan-jie, Zhan-jie,” Wei Ying moans restlessly. She turns her head and pants into Lan Wangji’s bare breast, her breath puffing over her nipple which tightens and aches with the desire to be touched.

“I’ve got you, A’Ying,” she hushes. “Does it feel better?”

“I feel like I’m gonna pee…”

Lan Wangji swallows down the nasty words that want to escape her, words she must save for when her wife is old enough to understand Lan Wangji asking her to pee on her. “You won’t. You’re going to come.”

“Come?” Wei Ying repeats, blinking wet eyes up at her. 

“It will feel good,” she says, severely understating it. Her head is foggy with memories of herself being dosed, coming over and over again for hours until even she was too wrung out to go any longer. Keeping her thumb on Wei Ying’s clit, she presses one of her fingers against her hole, the lubricant making everything slick and soft. Slipping inside, Wei Ying keens and throws her head back, her cunt contracting with an earth shattering orgasm. 

Lan Wangji squeezes her thighs together uselessly. As her finger begins to rub at Wei Ying’s walls, searching for that spot that makes her cry out and dissolve into shivers, she wonders if the sex pollen is more contagious than they assumed, or if she’s just truly this gone for Wei Ying. 

Holding her shaking wife in her lap, she wonders if she could get Wei Ying to touch her, too.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian wakes up slowly, her dreams pleasant and too good to let go of for once. It helps that they’re full of her husband, saying silly, dream-like things and pulling her into his lap, kissing her sweetly and fucking her roughly.

Smiling with her eyes shut, it takes a moment for her to grasp that her body is moving. Bit by bit, she feels the pressure on her waist where her husband’s hands gravitate towards, the heat along her back, the hips pressed into her ass.

“Mm, Lan Zhan?” She mumbles, pushing back against him. There’s a low gasp behind her, and then his pace quickens, though he’s not nearly as forceful as he normally is. “It’s so early, you’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

Squeezing her thighs together, she’s dismayed to find fabric there. Is she wearing pants? To bed? Now that she focuses on it, her upper body is covered too, a thin barrier between her and the sheets.

Still waking up, she doesn’t question why this must be when she knows she always sleeps naked these days. Reaching down, she curls up her body to drag her pants down, kicking them away under the blanket and lifting up the hem of her under robe. 

“There,” she says, eyes too crusted to open them fully. When she peeks over her shoulder at her husband, she sees a haze of white and dark hair and trusts that it’s him, for he would never let another person see her like this. “Have your fun, but,” she yawns, “I’m gonna go back to sleep….”

For a moment, there’s silence and everything stills. 

“Wei Ying,” her husband whispers. “Are you awake?”

“Nooo,” she whines, rolling over onto her front. Her legs spread automatically, wanting him there. “Come on, I know you need it, go ahead.”

She drifts some as he shuffles on the bed, fabric shifting mutely. When he crawls between her legs, there’s a distant thought in the back of her head that tells her the bed isn’t moving as much as it should, that usually Lan Zhan is big enough to make it creak under his weight.

It’s not a very concerning thought in that moment. She hitches her hips up just enough to arch her back, and grins at the noise he makes. It doesn’t quite sound right, not as deep as his voice should be, but she doesn’t have to linger on that.

Her husband touches her with hesitant hands, smaller than they should be, and pulls her up into his lap. He whimpers as her cunt brushes his dick, and then with no further adieu, he’s plunging inside of her. 

This is when Wei Wuxian remembers something important.

Lan Zhan was hit with a de-aging curse yesterday. 

She inhales sharply, pushing herself up and intending to get off of him immediately. But he doesn’t let her move, his hands curled around her thighs, using the upward movement to pull her even further onto him. 

The difference between his adult self and this version is quite obvious, length and girth missing from his jade pillar that Wei Wuxian knows the feeling of intimately. 

“Lan Zhan, what are you doing?”

“You said we are husband and wife,” he says, sounding short of breath. He can’t seem to control himself as he pushes inside, in and out, in and out, a fast pace that has their bodies slapping together loudly. “Is this not what husbands and wives do?”

“Hhhow do you know what they do?” She tries to sound accusing and fails, her hang ups about the situation quickly falling away. One day without her everyday is apparently too much, her cunt leaking at the feeling of being pounded again. It doesn’t have the edge of pain it usually does, he’s not big enough to fuck her raw, but it feels good anyway. And this is her husband, only shrunken down and smaller than she ever got to know him in life. 

“I saw once,” he tells her, letting go of her legs to sit up on his knees. He leans forward, bracing himself on the bed beside her hips, and thrusts back inside. “I saw a man like this—“

He cuts off with a gasp, his body slamming into her own as cum shoots inside of her. Even this is different, less than he normally gives her, but still warm and sticky and delightful. 

Desire boils in her blood, but she’s not quite there. Reaching down, she begins to touch herself, rubbing her clit in fast paced, rough circles that her husband never lets her get away with.

“You saw them fucking?” She says, more for her own benefit than his. Her body squeezes around him where he’s still inside her, and he hisses, pressing his heated forehead against her back. “How scandalous, poor Lan Zhan, I bet you didn’t know what to do, did you? Did it get you hard?”

“Yes,” he says shamefully.

“Ohhh,” she moans. The words spill out of her endlessly, her lust clouding her mind. “Oh, Lan Zhan, that’s so hot, that’s so hot baby. And you couldn’t touch yourself, could you? There’s a rule about that, and you’re such a good boy, you don’t break rules, huh?”

He twitches inside her, already hardening again. 

“Are you as insatiable as your adult self? Are you gonna give your poor Wei Ying a break, Lan Zhan? Or are you just going to use my pussy until you’re satisfied?”

“My Wei Ying, my pussy,” he says, just as bitchily as he ever is. He thrusts against her again, sharp and rough, and she can’t hold in her moans.

She comes like that, leaking around his little cock, clenching convulsively around him and telling him, “Yes, yes baby, yours, I’m all yours.”

Chapter Text

“That is obscene,” Lan Zhan says, sounding very offended.

Wei Wuxian smirks, glad she can’t quite see his face. Instead of straightening back up, he arches out his back even more, letting out a little moan as the tension eases in his shoulders. The sunlight coming in through their window warms his hands as they wave about in the air.

“Wei-gongzi,” she snaps, shutting her book. 

“Haven’t I told you to call me anything but that?” He asks through a yawn. “It’s not right for a man to be called so formally by his wife.”

She doesn’t scoff, but he can imagine the sound from all the times she—her adult self, that is—have made it. This younger version of Lan Zhan doesn’t scoff until he’s pissed her off so badly she’s red in the face and stomps outside to practice meditation in their garden. 

Going through a de-aging curse is a lot for anyone, but especially for her, freshly twelve and extremely hormonal. He’s already felt guilt about her having to deal with all of this with him, a guy she doesn’t know who’s annoying and calling himself her husband, rather than her family.

But when he asked if she’d rather go to Gusu while he figures out how to get her back to normal, she’d contemplatively stared at their home. Her eyes lingered on every knickknack, on her own things laying on shelves or hung on the walls, and on the paintings he’d made of them and their little group of people. 

“I would rather stay,” she said, and so she has. 

But it means she has to deal with him. And he’s found, in the past few days, that it’s just as fun to tease Lan Zhan at twelve as it was at fifteen and thirty-six and fifty-one. 

“Wei-gongzi,” she says again, stubborn to a fault. “I am attempting to read.”

“Go ahead, go ahead,” he smiles, waving a hand towards her book. “Don’t let me distract you.”

“You aren’t,” she replies quickly, too fast to mean it. He delights at the way her ears are turning pink.

“I’m not? Is it okay if I keep stretching then?”

“You are supposed to be working.”

“Lan Zhan, we’ve been sitting around for days and haven’t found much of anything! A short break will do me good. You should take one too.”

She doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning back to her book with what others would think is a furious slant to her mouth. But he knows better, and can’t help but chuckle to himself as he starts to stretch a different way, twisting his back until it pops.

For propriety’s sake, they’ve been sleeping in different beds. She has theirs while he sleeps in the guest room, tossing and turning as he fails to get used to sleeping without his wife beside him. Other than that, they’ve been spending so much time together—making meals, researching, showing Lan Zhan around the house and the garden, taking her to the nearest village to shop, writing letters to her uncle and zhangjie to show she’s alright… he’s noticed some things.

She tries to hide it, but he’s pretty sure she’s got a crush on him. There’s a gleam in her eyes when she looks at him, sometimes, that reminds him so much of her older self. He doesn’t know what it means in her now, but when his wife looks at him like that, it means she wants to kiss him. 

His hand comes up to touch his mouth as he gets lost in thought. It’s been days since the last time he was touched, days since she pushed him onto the bed and rode him hard. Days since his wife’s adult body and mind were replaced with this younger version. 

That first night, he accidentally caught a glimpse while she was bathing, used to sticking his head around the screen to talk to Lan Zhan. She’d shouted at him to go away and he’d yanked himself back quickly, apologizing profusely.

He hasn’t been thinking about it. There’s no use. Until she comes back, nothing can happen.

Distantly, however, he wonders about something. Lan Zhan told him once that she has always struggled with her libido being high. Now he wonders what she meant by always, if she’s sitting across from him right now and just dealing with it all alone?

“Stop it,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head. 

“Stop what,” she asks. “…Are you alright?”

“Ahh, yeah, Lan Zhan. Just thinking some stupid adult thoughts. You’ll get those eventually.”

She scowls at him. “If something is wrong, you must tell me.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Her responding silence is both loud and dubious. 

Giving in a little, he says, “It’s just something I realized I want to ask your older self about, okay? Nothing to worry about.”

“Hm.” 

It’s only then he remembers something he noticed yesterday—whenever he mentions the adult Lan Zhan, the child Lan Zhan has started to act almost… jealous. As if her adult self is some sort of other woman, taking his attention away from her.

Charmed by his Lan Zhan as always, he smiles down at the scroll he was reading. He doesn’t notice at first as Lan Zhan lowers her book again, peering at him.

Then, “Are you thinking of her?”

“I’m always thinking of you, Lan Zhan,” he teases.

He only means to make her go red and snap at him for being shameless or annoying—he doesn’t expect her to stand up, leaving the book behind entirely. There’s storm clouds on her face as she steps over to his desk, then around it.

Blinking up at her, he asks, “You okay?”

Her only reply is to hitch up her robes, swing one leg over his own, and sit into the crossed space of his lap. Like this, her face is so close to his own, and when he inhales, he can smell their bed on her, the mix of sandalwood, Lan Zhan’s natural scent, and his own.

It’s been days without having her. Blood rushes away from his head and he awkwardly moves his hands, not sure where to touch her if at all. “Lan Zhan, what are you doing,” he asks, though it comes out much differently than he intends it to. 

She wiggles further into his lap, settling over him like an unmovable force. “I want you to stop thinking of her.”

Ignoring everything about this situation—arousal simmering in his gut, the open stretch her legs, the intense golden stare refusing to look away from him—he lets out a little laugh. Finally, he touches her back, rubbing back and forth. “You’re the same person as her,” he reminds. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

It’s the wrong answer, evidently. She leans forward and bites the crook of his neck, right over top of the last yellowing love bite Lan Zhan left before this whole mess began. He jolts, accidentally pulling her closer to his body as his arms scramble and tighten around her waist. 

He opens his mouth to say something, though he doesn’t know what. But there’s no point—Lan Zhan starts pulling at his sash, her knees coming up to pin Wei Wuxian into place. 

“Lan Zhan,” he asks, dazed, panting. He doesn’t protest when she gets the sash off and pushes his robes down off his arms. “What—? You’re too young, we shouldn’t—”

“If that’s true, if I am the same as her, then this is fine. A marital duty. You… you’ve been neglecting me,” she declares, getting off of his lap just long enough to tug at his pants. He lifts his hips to help her pull them down, just enough that his cock springs out. 

Maybe the answer to his question is yes, then. Maybe she was struggling with her libido even at this age. Reaching down, he cups her over her pants, desire shooting through him as he feels how hot she is there. 

“I have been, haven’t I. My poor wife has had to deal with this all alone.”

Her bottom lip twitches like it does when she gets emotional. She grinds into his hand futilely. 

“You have to make it better. You did this to me.”

He lets out a little moan, unable to withstand such language. Helping her pull down her pants all the way, he pets her prickly calves and leans back against the wall so there’s more room. The feeling of her bare cunt, sopping wet and so small, on his dick has him thrusting up. 

She tries to guide him inside of her, but he quickly grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 

“No, I don’t want to hurt you.” He can’t imagine what would happen if he’s too big. If she stays young long enough, maybe he'll check and see if he can stretch her out, at least enough for the head of his cock.

“You won’t. I want it inside, I need it,” she almost whines, dragging her clit along his shaft. Between gasps, she says, “I’m not supposed to touch. There’s a rule. But we’re married, so you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I want this,” he tells her, his mind running wild with the thought of her squirming around in their bed, trying not to touch herself. “It feels—ah, it feels good doesn’t it? Does it feel good for you, Lan Zhan?”

Her head drops into the crook of his neck, her breaths coming out in sobs as she hitches her hips into every upward thrust of his own. Around his waist, her legs are like a vice, clinging to him. Slick wet arousal makes a mess of them both, and whether it’s real or just a placebo, all of the sensation feels heightened after days without any sex at all. 

She comes first, grinding her clit against the head of his cock. She’s so wet, he can’t tell if she comes like she does as an adult, spewing watery cum all over him. But even just the thought, and the sight of her all tense in his lap, her voice just barely audible on ragged moans—his hips push up into hers, thrusting once, twice, before he comes, getting it all over her legs and his chest and even on her little cunt, dripping down to where she’s still spread open on him. 

He hugs her close as they come down and whispers comforting words in her ear. Slowly, she relaxes.

When she lifts her head, her entire face is pink. “Ahem,” she says, unable to meet his eyes. “We should continue to work.”

He laughs, he can’t help it. “No, let’s take a break. No, let’s take a nap, actually. Come on, I’ll join you.”

“In our bed?” She checks. 

When he nods, she relents, standing on shaking legs. 

“Well… alright. Just this once.”