MimiSpearmint
@SpearmintMimi
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lawyer by trade, liability by choice 🥞mdzs fanfic writer | 18+ content | queer | any pronouns
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Thread of threads 🧵🧵🧵mainly //modern au//wangxian// but some surprises!
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Quick hungover thought:
Wwx, who wears short-shorts and always has bruises dappled up and down the insides of his thighs vs. his best friend lwj, who is increasingly losing his mind bc WHO PUT THEM THERE??!!
The answer is no one: wwx moonlights as an amateur bull rider
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You know what I deserve? I deserve an omegaverse wangxian fic where wwx is working in a heat centre and lwj is a first-time client that decides to hire a professional bc alphas in his family have a history of heat-bonding with partners
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thinking about a gimmick I used to run with a mate in college and, well.
wwx and jc hustle poker tables in a dive bar. they arrive separately, pretend they don't know each other, and then signal subtly whether they're bluffing, stalling etc.
lwj is a professional poker player.
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Ridiculous short thought of normal, everyday modern lwj who accidentally summons a demon.
No, not that kind of demon.
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//arranged marriage//modern au//
What about wangxian who are engaged to be in a loveless arranged marriage but then slowly fall in love with each other - except they don’t realise they’re falling for EACH OTHER and not a stranger
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Wwx, looking exhausted and limping to the couch after being out wrestling bulls all night: 💀💀💀
Lwj, internally: oh my god his hookup fucked him so hard he can barely walk I’m so angry I could do that I could do that I could -
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Wwx, muttering to himself as he rubs deep heat on his thighs: fuck me, that was such a hard ride, I barely lasted
Lwj, accidentally overhearing and breaking the dishes he’s washing:
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AND THE END! ofc, lwj starts going to the rodeos and cheering wwx on.
This is inspired by the mechanical bull i went on last night at a hens. I have discovered I am very good at mechanical bulls, and in fact they could not make it go fast enough to throw me. Very sore today.
Quick hungover thought:
Wwx, who wears short-shorts and always has bruises dappled up and down the insides of his thighs vs. his best friend lwj, who is increasingly losing his mind bc WHO PUT THEM THERE??!!
The answer is no one: wwx moonlights as an amateur bull rider
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It’s a hobby that he keeps secret, because it’s lowkey embarrassing and highkey redneck, and he’s been in the city for years but you can take the boy out of the country but not the country out of the boy, okay?
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But it fits with his natural talents: he is persistent, good at clinging to things that don’t enjoy him, and possessed of an outstanding pain tolerance.
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Just rewatched Dirty Dancing and (like every NORMAL person) automatically thought of wangxian.
It’s very easy to cast lwj as the sheltered, naive baby and wwx as the badboy dance drifter - but what about the other way around?
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Wwx shrugs and then shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. “Oh. I - er - idorodeossometimesandyoucanttellanyonebecauseimactuallyprettygoodbutjcwillneverletmeliveitdown.”
Stunned, lwj just stares.
That is not an explanation he would have ever considered.
That is so much better.
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Anyway, things come to a head one day when lwj is over.
they’re watching a movie and wwx has those long legs thrown carelessly over lwj’s lap. Wwx is lying on his side, eyes fixed intently on the screen as Kevin Bacon teaches Willard to linedance.
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To say they just cover his ass would be an insult to ass-covering. They barely skim the tops of his thighs, exposing the soft, vulnerable curve of wwx’s inner thigh that lwj imagines biting into at least once a week.
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Lwj has no idea what is happening with the plot because all he can focus on is the weight of those smooth, tanned legs.
As befitting their Thursday movie night tradition, wwx is in his favourite pair of pyjama shorts.
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Instantly, wwx’s whole body tenses.
Lwj looks up but wwx remains staring at the screen, almost too purposefully. Maybe going a little insane, lwj presses down again - firmly, with two fingers, as though taking a pulse.
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As usual, a faint pattern of bruises trace their way all the way up from wwx’s knee to under his shorts. A few higher up look darker, new.
Without thinking, and certainly without meaning to, lwj reaches out and presses down on one.
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You can’t tell me that, given half a margarita, lxc wouldn’t do the same if the fish had dimples
"No, Wangji, I'm not well," lxc wails. "I didn't know you were capable of such—acts, especially on a *creature* like—" a pause, "I don't even know how the thought of it could have occurred to you—on second thought, do not tell me. I don't want to know."
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Lwj growls and roughly pushes wwx’s legs wide, spreading them properly. Wwx gasps and lwj crowds between them, pressing his body down so wwx can feel the weight of him.
An animal aggression rises in lwj as he grabs wwx by the jaw and forces wwx to look at him.
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Wwx still keeps pretending to watch the movie. His breath is coming faster.
Emboldened, lwj allows himself to slide his hand fully onto wwx’s thigh. He spreads his fingers, flexing them, and then deliberately and slowly tightens his grip.
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A quiet moan escapes wwx. He shifts so he’s lying on his back and spreads his legs slightly, head remaining turned stubbornly to the side, watching the stupid movie. The pyjama shorts are doing nothing to hide the hardening curve of his cock.
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Wwx’s eyes are wide, his bottom lip red from being worried between his teeth.
Jaw clenched and holding wwx’s gaze, lwj rocks forward, grinding his hardness between wwx’s legs.
“Is this how you like it?” Lwj asks, a little meanly.
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Setting his shoulders, lxc faces nmj and asks, "Would Huaisang have any contacts that could get us on a heat centre waiting list? Tell them we will pay double."
From the floor, lwj merely huffs.
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Okay, so I'm working on the heat clinic threadfic and two other ao3 WIPs, so I know I shouldn't do this but hear me out (modern au // wangxian as teens):
We always have Straight Boy Wei Ying (love that for us) but what about the unexplored potential of Straight Boy Lan Zhan?
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Brow creasing as though confused, wwx arches up into lwj’s body when lwj lets go of his jaw to grip and squeeze wwx’s thighs again.
“You like it rough? You want it?”
Wwx nods rapidly, reaching up to try and touch lwj. “Yes, yes, please-“
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Lwj pins his wrists and wwx writhes. He kisses wwx viciously, all tongue and teeth, and hopes that if he does this well enough, if he is just as rough as wwx likes, maybe wwx will keep him.
Fumbling at his own fly, lwj snarls, “Open your mouth.”
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Lwj has fucked up. Lwj has fucked up so bad.
“I am sorry,” lwj says again, just as a blanket statement for his entire existence at this point. “I was so rough with you. I did not know. I should have checked. I thought you were seeing someone and I - I was jealous.”
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A spasm of hurt flickers across wwx’s face. He asks uncertainly, “You don’t want to kiss me?”
Not at his mental peak, lwj responds dumbly with, “Is that something you normally do after your hookups?”
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Instantly, wwx complies and lwj spits in it. Wwx bucks in shock, mouth still open. He looks at lwj with wide eyes, betrayed.
“Did you like that?” Lwj asks forcefully.
Nearly a little uncertain with shame, wwx nods, flushing.
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“That was my first time. Ever. So I don’t really know the rules to this. I’m sorry for thinking it was something that it wasn’t,” wwx says bitterly.
The sniffling starts again. Unthinking, lwj gathers wwx in his arms. Wwx struggles briefly before going limp, hiccuping tears.
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“Lan Zhan,” says wwx, sounding a bit out of breath, “do you like me?”
Shaking, lwj lifts a hand to cup wwx’s cheek. “Very much.”
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In his arms, wwx goes very still. “Jealous?”
Lwj figures the bull has already left the gate.
“Jealous,” he confirms. “I was not rough with you to punish you. I had seen the bruises on you and thought that was what you liked. That maybe I could…”
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Wwx smiles and it makes lwj want to collapse in relief like a survivor that’s finally found the rescue crew.
“I like you too,” says wwx. “Do you think we could do something about that?”
“I can think of a few things,” says lwj.
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An expression of horror crosses wwx’s face, like he has served confidential documents to the wrong client.
Then, even worse (and lwj did not think things could get worse), wwx cries.
It starts as a little sniffle and then turns into several silent, escaping tears.
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It is a quarterly occurrence.
By now, nmj is so used to periodically finding his husband's normally austere little brother doing his best impression of post-hairdye Howl Pendragon on various floor surfaces that he refuses to let it interfere with chores.
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“I do something you do not like, you tell me,” lwj orders.
Wwx nods again, hands still held beside his head where lwj had pinned them.
Hand around his own cock, lwj spits in wwx’s mouth again. This time, wwx does not flinch. His legs tighten, squeezing lwj.
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Lwj frowns. “I did not mean to sound judgmental. I just meant whoever else-“
“There is no one else, that was my first time,” wwx snaps.
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Okay OKAY don’t have the time for this and I’ll finish my other thread pinky swear but hear me out HEAR ME OUT:
Wwx who likes rough sex but is ashamed and has zero knowledge of bdsm so he keeps hitting subdrop after shit, uncaring partners and just being like “wow, bad hangover”
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Suddenly, wwx sits up, pushing lwj away angrily. “Why do you keep saying that?”
Lwj blinks in confusion. “Saying what?”
Wwx scoffs, rolling his eyes. “My ‘other partners’, my ‘other hookups’. Just because you might keep a roster doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”
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Lwj shoves them wider so he can make his way up wwx’s body.
“This is all the lube you are getting, so get it wet,” he warns, smearing his cock along wwx’s cheek.
A touch frantic, wwx mouths at lwj’s cock, trying to get it properly in his mouth without his hands.
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After the orgasm hits and he comes back to himself, he finds himself braced and panting above wwx.
Wwx is smiling shyly, flushed and sweaty and so beautiful.
He tips his face up to kiss lwj and lwj pulls back, surprised.
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Monumentally relieved and a little shell-shocked, lwj thanks wwx once he returns, and then leaves the heat clinic at what can only be called an Olympic speed walk.
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He trails off, face not quite thick enough to admit that he thought he could fuck wwx into liking him back.
Wwx goes twisty where lwj is holding him, and lwj looks down to face him properly. A canny, calculating expression crossed wwx’s face.
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It feels like all the clocks in the world stop. Whatever keeps time in lwj’s heart certainly does.
“What?” he whispers.
Wwx will not meet lwj’s eye. His eyes are red-rimmed and his chest is red too with embarrassment. He looks miserable.
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Lwj is still actively inside wwx. He has never been more alarmed. He could do security for the Pentagon with how alarmed he is.
“Wei Ying, what’s wrong?” he asks urgently.
Wwx just shakes his head and laughs wetly, covering his face with his arm.
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Lwj is vaguely amused that wwx seems to have forgotten that they are not being held down.
He groans when wwx finally sucks him properly. Bobbing his head forward eagerly, wwx immediately chokes. Coughing, he pulls off briefly before going back in, focusing on the sensitive tip.
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It’s sloppy and objectively not the best blowjob, but lwj burns hot at how eager wwx is for him.
When he thinks his cock is slick enough, he pulls out. Wwx chases him with his tongue and lwj chuckles. Wwx looks shocked.
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He knows he should use a condom, that it’s stupid not to given wwx’s other bruise-leaving partners, but he doesn’t care.
“Do it, Lan Zhan, please, please,” wwx begs, and lwj is helpless to resist. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” wwx babbles as lwj presses into him.
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He leans down those barest few inches he never let himself cross before and kisses wwx softly, like he has always wanted to.
Wwx kisses him back.
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It’s a beautiful, glorious few minutes or millennia before a thought crosses lwj’s mind.
“Wait,” he says curiously, pulling back. “What are the marks on your legs from then?”
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A heat-bond isn't permanent like a full mating bond, but that's pretty much the only difference. However, it still lasts a good few weeks - depending on the pairing - so they are excruciating to endure with a one-night stand.
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It’s better than lwj could have even imagined. When he’s fully seated he gives several deep rolls of his hips, letting wwx adjust but not letting him have it easy.
Wwx is so responsive. At the first proper thrust lwj does, wwx’s hands scrabble for lwj’s shoulders.
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“Just being silly,” wwx says eventually.
Lwj pulls out. It seems like a good time to pull out.
His cum leaks obscenely from wwx’s hole.
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He winds his arms around lwj’s neck and sobs and moans and gasps into his ear as lwj takes.
“So good, more-“ wwx chokes out as lwj snaps his hips faster.
Lwj pounds into wwx, gripping onto the armrest of the couch and shaking it with the force of his thrusts.
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Wwx cries out and lwj pauses, watching his face, waiting for wwx to tap out. Minutely, wwx rocks his hips and lwj decides that is permission to keep going.
It’s hard work. Wwx is tight, so tight, and he keeps clenching down on lwj’s fingers.
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"I am salted field where nothing grows," intones lwj. "Even Lot's wife was once loved, but I am desiccated beyond redemption. Let the city be levelled and leave me behind."
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He can feel himself getting close and so changes tactics, gripping wwx’s thighs instead. He wants to leave bruises; he wants wwx’s next man to know that someone else had him, had him hard enough to make him scream.
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Making his way back down wwx’s body, lwj puts his own fingers in his mouth and gets them as wet as he can.
Not bothering to take off wwx’s shorts, he simply pulls them to the side and pushes two fingers into him.
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And yes, wwx gets the most unholy pregnancy cravings.
When a-yuan is finally born he gets him lil matching devil horns and they're very cute and the first few years of a-yuan's existence are all his relatives learning to play hot potato like:
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of course, lwj solves all wwx's financial woes by getting him into actual professional poker and then they become a power couple on the circuit. everyone lives happily ever after. lwj has to attend another wedding (it is his own and he loves it).
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"Professional help," lxc amends.
Lwj appears to be going for haughtily composed, like an ailing widow, but the tiles have left a mark on his cheek and lxc has, about thirty minutes ago, witnessed Mingjue literally mopping the floor around an unmoving, foetal-position lwj.
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Lwj dips his head to suck a hickey into wwx’s collarbone, and scream wwx does. He comes hot and wet between them, body shaking and pulsing.
Lwj knows he should pull out. He doesn’t.
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Dropping lwj's ankles, lxc sighs. He gives lwj one last consoling pat, decides that this version of lwj does not spark joy, and then straightens up resolutely.
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“I am sorry,” he says uncertainly, a sinking feeling dragging him down with wet fingers. “I should have pulled out. I promise I am clear, but it would be a good idea to let you other partners know so they can get tested.”
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When lwj adds a third finger, wwx shakes and keens and lwj has fun with it until his own cock is aching too much to be ignored any longer.
Spitting on his hand to slick his cock up a final time, lwj lines himself up.
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"He did not," lwj says, then amends. "He did not take my wallet."
Whipping around, Jiang Cheng looks mortified. Wei Wuxian, smiling from ear to ear, just shrugs and holds up their joined hands.
Jiang Cheng just sighs. "Fucking hell."
THE END!!
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It goes without saying, in the sense that it should never be uttered outside of closed GusuLan doors, that lwj is all too cautious, too conscious of how a romantic partner aware of a heat-bond could take advantage of an alpha and force them into a marriage or mate-bond.
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"Et tu, Xiongzhang," mutters lwj, dropping his head back down with the air of lxc having used a bolt-gun on him prior to slaughter.
Running with the abattoir theme, lxc grabs lwj's ankles and drags him to the corner so nmj can vacuum. Lwj maintains a glassy, mid-distance stare.
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THE END!
Not pictured, nine months later:
lqr: lord above, your husband is the anti-christ! teach him some manners!
lwj: my son.
lqr: ??
lwj: my husband is a being beyond moral ken thankfully persuaded from destruction with word puzzles. my SON is the anti-christ.
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“A crossroads demon,” lwj says, somehow feeling exasperatingly unimpressed despite the absurdity of the situation. “We are not at a cross-road. We are in my apartment.”
The so-called demon rolls his eyes. “NO. CrossWORD. CrossWORDS demon.”
Oh dear.
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So, even though the heat-bond would be more bearable were his partner not to disappear the next morning, lwj simply develops a high pain tolerance and does not pursue anything longer-term where a person could become aware of his condition.
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"Wangji," lxc says, gently petting lwj as lwj lays on the kitchen floor and moans. "I think you need help."
Accusatorily, lwj looks up at him. "And you do not want to help me. "
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The bartender puts up a finger and adopts a parroting tone and lwj blinks at the sudden transition to academia.
The other man shrugs. “My girlfriend’s brother is in the industry. She said she’d break up with me if I was ever a dick to him about it again, so I read a book.”
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Xichen, however, is both aware of his condition and sick of his shit.
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While the physical pain of separation while heat-bonded is bearable for lwj, the emotional pain (hangover) that kicks in about a week later is unbearable.
For Xichen, that is, not Wangji.
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*kicking down the door* I'm back, team!
me looking at this threadfic but also wwx looking at lwj's cock: why is it so fucking big
Anyway, I wanna say this will have maybe two more updates. Back up top!
You know what I deserve? I deserve an omegaverse wangxian fic where wwx is working in a heat centre and lwj is a first-time client that decides to hire a professional bc alphas in his family have a history of heat-bonding with partners
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“Who is on call?” lwj asks, feeling hot even with his tie undone. As long as it is not the owner of the ‘Su She’ profile, lwj is willing to treat this first session as somewhat of an emergency trial run.
“Me,” says wwx.
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In the interests of fairness, it does sound more plausible.
Lan Wangji looks down in consternation at the NYT crossword on his phone, and then back up to study the demon more closely.
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The newcomer has a glass of the aforementioned Captain Morgan in one hand, lwj's commonsense in the other. He is painfully bright in the dingy haze of the bar, with long, black hair - the kind you can wrap a fist around - and a foxy grin.
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Haughtily, lwj reples"I do not want your money. I am a professional poker player."
In his grip, wwx goes limp. it is actually harder to keep him suspended this way than when he was trying to escape. "Oh noooo you're offended on principle. God save me from men of principle."
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This is decidedly Not the kind of place lwj would normally visit.
He had to walk up a broken escalator to get here, the bar is selling plastic glasses of Captain Morgan for $5, and several patrons are bona fide chain smoking indoors.
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This is his LIVELIHOOD. This is his CAREER. Pride is, of course, a sin, but if one is to be beset with sin anyway (as humans are wont to be, for God has made no one perfect) one might as well pick a sin that means they are good at something.
And lwj is very, very good at poker.
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Fittingly, it is a ridiculous demon. The form it has currently is of a handsome man in a cheap Dracula cape. It is wearing a pair of cartoon devil horns.
“Too much?” the demon asks, raising a hand to its hair self-consciously.
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"Wanyin," says the first man lwj had joined at the table, extending a hand to shake with an air of reluctance.
"Wuxian," the newcomer replies. He turns his attention to lwj. "And you are...?"
"Not with him," lwj says.
Wuxian throws back his head and laughs like a movie.
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While following the recommendations of nie huaisang is an exercise lwj tends to avoid on principle (the principle being that huaisang's vapidity is often matched only by his penchant for sequins), huaisang does know quality, much as one can imagine Paris Hilton knows cocaine.
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However, he had come town for a particularly trying family wedding and now needs to decompress; the cool, routine calculations of poker, the clink of real chips - not even on a computer - always soothes him.
So, he has braved the escalator, and the liquor, and cigarettes.
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It happens slowly, reminscient of boiling a frog. Several other players join - some lose, some win - but on the whole, hand after hand keeps falling to Wuxian. The only other player that seems to be holding his own relatively well is Wanyin.
Lwj is infuriated.
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The majority of his prudishness has waned since his uptight teen years, but there is a marked difference between discussing necessary boundaries with a sex partner, and confessing every repressed impulse he has ever had to someone who he is firmly allocating as Not A Sex Partner.
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He chases after Wuxian, goes in even more ruthlessly with raising - rarely checking, rarely calling - but Wuxian must have the devil's luck.
he is so animated (frowned upon), so chatty (extremely frowned upon) that it is difficult to categorise his tells.
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Several tables already have games in progress. He picks one that is just setting up and takes a seat next to a scowling man in horrible a purple leather jacket.
"heya! mind if I join you two?"
Lwj looks up. It is an error.
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Most importantly, lxc’s kitchen floor has been spared. Mustache vibrating in satisfaction, nmj hums as he polishes lwj’s normal depression-depression. Lxc is ready to send a fruit basket.
But then, wwx’s scheduled heat hits.
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"Uh, drug deal?" Wuxian tries, eyebrows raised as though hopeful.
Lwj gives him a flat look in response. "You are hustlers."
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