Good for dà gē
lan xichen/ lan huan x gn! reader
A/N . Forgive any spelling mistakes, its too late for my brain to spill out alphabets in their correct order. Pls revive this dead tag.
CW: lxc being called ge-ge by reader, suggestive
word count: 584
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"Zewu-jun~". The words leave your lips as a pressing sigh echoes throughout the Hanshi's walls; his plush lips are warm and firm and steady as they crash against yours. A sturdy forearm pins itself perpendicularly to your fanned out hair on the silky sheets and Lan Xichen tactfully towers his sculpted figure over your smaller one.
The early dawn light that filters through the craved windows, casting an intricate shadow against his delicate, jade-like features. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. An abrupt bite on your delicate lips earns him a quick yelp followed by a dramatic whine on your part.
"L-Lan Xichen!" you whimper pathetically, tugging on his slender forehead ribbon. Long locks of ebony spill out of his usual hairdo as the ribbon loosens and becomes undone in your palms. They caress the angular edges of his face perfectly, and you think that he somehow looks even more handsome like this. It was as if the strands were hand-woven by the heavens for you to admire, his slender lips crafted to caress yours, and his safe arms to embrace your frail frame.
The atypically stoic man doesn't respond to the courtesy name and instead, his honeyed eyes simply darken with lust. Pulling away from the kiss, his heated mouth asserts itself above the corner of your lip before pressing a trail of open mouthed kisses along your jaw. Jolts of pain and pleasure wash over you as his canine teeth tug and nibble on your supple skin.
"A-Huan~". Once again, the hopeless mewls fall on to deaf ears. In a pitiful attempt to muffle the moans that threatened to spill, you scrunch the Gusu Lan forehead ribbon in your palm and thrust the fabric into your mouth.
Pinning your arms above your head, Lan Xichen sweetly squeezes your jaw open and extracts the sopping cloth. Clutching both your wrists, he expertly wraps the damp ribbon around them twice before firmly securing them in place with a harsh knot, and then, an elegant bow. Immediately, he continues to push against the soft surface of the bed as he shifts his assault on your neck. Crimson marks begin to adorn your lithe neck as his animalistic urges persist along the length of your nape. Shifting his lips to a new target, his scorching breath fans against to the untouched skin just above your collar and it becomes increasingly more difficult for you to keep your voice down.
"L-Lan G-gē gē," you stutter as you bite your lower lip in shame as those humiliating words leave your reddened lips.
"Yes my love?" he asks tenderly in contrast to the mildly obscene term, his warm breath against your ear ensuing a valley of goosebumps to erupt along your body.
"P-please s-stop teasing me," you plead in a drunken state, your whiny voice not even a fraction as convincing as you had intended it on being. You were a pitiful sight. The red marks littered throughout your slender neck were staring to bruise a deep purple. The deep rouge flush that bloomed from your checks swiftly spread across your features, from the tips of your ears to right under your collarbone. You, with your petite wrists tethered under his toned, looming build.
"Shushhh," he hushes dismissively with newfound amusement, and you can feel the corners of his slender lips on your earlobe curve upwards at your helpless request.
"Be good for dà gē and keep your voice down alright?"
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