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gentil-minou · 8 months

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sharing my wangxian phlebotomist!wwx/blood donor!lwj au from twitter here (a summary here if you wanna see)

The hardest part of the adoption process was supposed to be endless paperwork and screenings and the anxiety of not being good enough to meet high standards of the court.

It wasn't supposed to be A-Yuan's first doctors appointment.

His pitiful screams fill the small doctor's office. He's clinging to Lan Wangji's shoulders like there a lifeline, hiding and all LWJ wants to do is bundle up his son and carry him back to safety.

But these are mandatory vaccines he needs in order to attend pre-k. So he cant.

Nurse: Shots are never fun at this age, huh He would beg to differ; they're never fun at any age But see lwj isnt afraid of the shots themselves. Hes terrified of the sight of blood. His BFF loves horror movies & he watches them with her bravely by staring at the corner of the tv

When lwj gets his blood drawn, he looks closes his eyes and imagines being in a cold pond somewhere. But he's never been afraid of just the shot before.

He's helpless in the face of his son's distress. The nurse sighs, saying theyll have to try again another day.

A-Yuan sniffles into his baba's shirt, exhausted from the crying fit. His eyes are still watery and he looks around the room with such fear in his eyes, before withdrawing back into the safety of his baba's chest.

Lan Wangji has no idea what to do, only cradles him closer

Thankfully, LWJ has someone who can help. His best friend, Jiang Yanli is a child therapist and has been helping him prepare his home for A-Yuan.

If anyone knows what to do, it's Yanli-jie

JYL: Zhanzhan, have you tried showing him its not scary?

LWJ has not, bc he's terrified

JYL is the only one allowed to call him Zhanzhan. In Uni she was the one who mentored him his first week of school. Someone slipped him alcohol and he got deliriously drunk.

Yanli-jie was the one who found him and took him home. This is what they told the cohort but actually…

JYL: seeing his Baba get a shot and be okay might motivate him to be more brave

LWJ certainly doesn't feel brave. He's thinking of the blood flowing from his veins and then LEAVING them to go who knows where. It sounds barbaric

He has the distinct memory of learning what a period is in middle school and promptly passing out

He is not a fan of anything related to blood

But LWJ has learned that Yanli-jie knows what she's doing, so, despite the way he can swear he feels his blood pumping with fear, he agrees...but there's a problem.

LWJ: I am up to date on all my shots. How can I show him it is safe?

JYL: Hmm....I have an idea. My brother is a phlebotomist! He can help.

LWJ is confused. Last he heard, the younger Jiang is a prosecutor who makes a living viciously yelling in a courtroom.

JYL: Not him, Zhanzhan. My adoptive brother, A-Xian. I bet he would be happy to help you. He works at the blood bank at Yiling Clinic! The perfect exposure!

For who?, LWJ wonders. A blood bank sounds like a house of horrors to him. And a person who chooses to stick a needle in people and remove the very force that gives them life? He cannot imagine getting along with this person at all.

Yiling Clinic is a community clinic in a part of town Lan Wangji has never been to, especially since the Gusu Group has their own private hospital.

But this is where Yanli-jie's phlebotomist little brother works.

A-Yuan clings to the back of his legs as they approach the receptionist, a young man with amazing cat eye makeup named Mo Xuanyu

These two definitely do not fit the bill for their usual patients, with their designer clothing, so he asks with some skepticism: Um, can I help you?

LWJ has spent the last two hours siking himself up for the blood part, he isn't prepared at all for social interactions. He flounders like a fish.

LWJ: …I am…We are here for…

A shout comes from behind them: Ah! A-Yu, is that A-jie's friend? Zhanzhan?

LWJ flinches until he sees a man sprinting towards them. The 1st thing he notices is this man is wearing lilac scrubs with little white rabbits on them.

The 2nd thing he notices is this man has the most enchanting smile he's ever seen. Already, LWJ feels more relaxed.

The man winks at him: You like the scrubs? A-jie said A-Yuan liked bunnies, I figured this would help keep him calm.

LWJ does not blurt I like bunnies too. But only just.

Beside the man is a pediatric nurse named Wen Ning, no relation, who says he's here to help with A-Yuan

Yanli-jie's little brother, the phlebotomist, introduces himself: Ah! Sorry, Lan Zhan. Jiejie always calls you that so it just stuck. I'm Wei Wuxian. You can call me Wei Ying if you wanna make it even.

Strangely, LWJ feels no need to correct him: Lan Zhan is fine, Wei Ying.

WWX smiles so brightly, LWJ feels dizzy with it.

WWX: Now where's the little bunny himself?

A-Yuan has been clinging behind LWJ's pant leg, tilting around just enough to peek with one eye at this strange gege.

WWX: Maybe not a rabbit then, a radish who likes to hide away!

A-Yuan becomes offended: I don't like radishes!

WWX laughs: Me neither! But Qing-jie says they help us grow big and strong, so they can't be all that bad huh?

WWX is crouched in front of A-Yuan, draping both arms across his knees and resting his chin in one hand. He waits.

LWJ admires his patience. The longer WWX waits, crouched and rocking back and forth in front of A-Yuan, smile gently and welcoming, the more A-Yuan's natural curiosity gets the better of him.

Eventually, his son comes out from behind his leg to touch a black bunny on his sleeve

A-Yuan: I like this one. We only have a white bunny at home.

WWX: I like the black bunny too! What's your bunny's name?

A-Yuan: Banana, bc she tries to eat Baba's banana every morning, and you are what you eat.

He recites this with all the solemnity a 4 yo could possess

WWX's laughter echoes through the lobby: Well! You're very right, A-Yuan. Maybe you aren't a radish after all then. Tell me, what do little boys eat?

A-Yuan: I'm not little! I'm 4 and a half!

WWX: Right, right, I sincerely apologize for my mistake. What do big boys eat then?

A-Yuan purses his lips and taps his chin, pondering his question carefully: Hmm… jelly beans?

WWX looks like he wants to laugh more, but instead says: I see, I see. Thank you for your wisdom A-Yuan.

He looks up at LWJ, dark eyes dancing. LWJ's heart rabbits against his chest

WWX: If your baba is ready, we can head down to my cave if you'd like. I have a lot of cool machines I'd love to show you.

A-Yuan's eyes widen into saucers as he gasps: A cave? Wowww

They grin conspiratorially at each other, before turning bright eyes up at LWJ

LWJ feels warm and much more relaxed inside, so he nods: Mn. We may go.

A-Yuan cheers and holds WWX's hand as the head downstairs.

LWJ trails behind making small talk with WN, watching WWX and A-Yuan swing their hands and skip ahead, feeling something warm blossom in his chest.

The hallway to Wei Wuxian's lab isn't anything like Lan Wangji expects.

The rooms at Gusu are all perfectly pristine and sterile, painted white to promote serenity, rest, and healing.

For one thing, he'd raided a Halloween store at some point and hung up all sorts of decorations, mostly vampire themed. There's one that's says "I vant to suck your blood!" except suck is crossed out and replaced with "donate". Wwx and A-yuan giggle together at wwx's fake accent

It's definitely not up to Gusu General's strict standards. For one thing, there're beanbag chairs in the hall outside. Wwx says it's to feel more comfy while others wait, as he's the only phlebotomist on staff and it can take a while. A-Yuan personally tests each one.

His lab is…adequate if far too small. There's a desk that's overrun with stacks of papers and textbooks and a shelf that's filled with even more. The actual space where blood is drawn is, thankfully, sterile and clean. Though he's decorated with demons demanding blood for food

There's a temp controlled room where the blood is stored, with a red door and the words "Blood Pool" written in menacing barely legible font

Despite the…interesting decor, the room is homely and, surprisingly, welcoming. A-Yuan at least is having a very fun time getting a tour

Wwx patiently answers all of A-Yuan’s questions, even the endless why's, with utmost sincerity, even when his answers are purely nonsense.

Lwj can't stop the fond smile from lifting the corner of his lips. A-Yuan had never warmed up to a medical professional so fast.

He's pulled from his musings when A-Yuan grabs his sleeve: Baba! Blood-gege says this machine makes blood spin around!

Wwx burst out laughing: Blood-gege? I love it!

Lwj is enchanted, head repeating those last 3 words again and again as wwx fondly ruffles A-Yuan's fluffy hair

Wwx: alright, now that you're familiar with my beauty Chenqing (referring to his bloody spinny machine lwj does not want to think about), shall we get down to business?

He says this with his bright dark eyes glittering at LWJ. Right. The blood donating part.

Lwj gulps, nodding. A prisoner walking up to the gallows.

TBC

(If you're interested, I'm probably going to continue at least up to the end of the first part before i just make it into one long fic! You can follow it on my twitter!)

#i tried the threadfic thing on twitter and im finding it hard to get any engagement there and i think this au is cute okay #and i cant write it until a couple weeks from now so im just gonna share it here #call me wwx the way im shameless with my self promotion #hehe #bushy writing #mdzs #wangxian #mdzs fanfiction #mo dao zu shi #if the formatting looks dumb its cause im copying and pasting from shitter djfksh i dont actually write like this i just wanna share this o #anyways someone tell me how twitter fandoms work why are they so hardddd #from what i've seen the writing mdzs fandom is most active on there but i cannot understand how to get recognition there #to be fair i've always been a tumblr girlie and never posted much on my twitter besides retweeting art anyways #but i want validation for my writing T___T #also threadfics are a challenge of themselves and i admire writers who have the patience to deal with them because i am very much losing #mine like what do you do about all the typos and the mistakes and just ahhhhhhhhh #also i think its because im joining in the middle of twitter's mass exodus but idk where else to go #anyways

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rillils · 2 years

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premise: writer’s block makes one desperate. writer’s block also makes one do dumb things, like say, I’ve been coming back to this kiss prompt list for ages now, how’s about I actually try my hand at one for once? so here we are! #5. morning kisses, because of course it is wordcount: 1137 warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, domestic bliss, fluff, more fluff, lorge soft happy husbands, fluff, uuuh did I mention the fluff

It’s this: the first shift in Steve’s breath, the slightly deeper inhale that tells Bucky, he’s waking up.

It’s soft: the languorous stretch of Steve’s body as he rolls over, half onto his stomach, heavy-limbed and half-asleep still; the groan of the bedsprings the only sound in the room, besides the heartbeat thrumming contentedly inside Bucky’s chest, pounding away to the rhythm of Steve, Steve’s here, Steve is waking up.

It’s the same picture as yesterday, and if Bucky is very, very lucky, the same one he’ll get to wake up to tomorrow: Steve’s hair sticking up on one side just like this, all soft spikes and impossible angles; the crease from the pillowcase, marking up his cheekbone like a lover’s seal. Bucky will kiss over it later, just to feel its soft ridges under his lips, jealous of the sheet of cotton that gets to cradle Steve’s cheek all night.

And most beautifully predictable of all: the sleepy little hum that rumbles from Steve’s chest when he, infallibly, unerringly, outstretches his arm beneath the blankets, reaching for the body next to him with his eyes still closed.

It teases a smile from Bucky’s lips. Come on, then. I’m right here, sweetheart.

He nearly holds his breath when Steve’s hand finds him, his fingertips five spots of warmth, spreading in ribbons underneath Bucky’s skin. It’s like a shiver. The whole world, condensed in one touch.

It’s intimate. Sensation, trickling over him like fat drops of honey, slow and easy and rich, lighting a spark of anticipation deep in Bucky’s belly as Steve moves, traces the inviting outline of his body. It’s everything – all of it, every crumb of it. The quick kiss of Steve’s knuckles across his hipbone. The lazy spread of Steve’s fingers, curling over the meat of Bucky’s flank. The whole breadth of Steve’s palm against Bucky’s bare stomach, every crease of it, every line, greeting him, embracing him, seeking more of him.

Bucky leans into it, a tad bit helplessly too.

Steve’s touch is soft; he’s always so soft when he’s just coming to, rumpled and sweet, completely unguarded in the safety of their bed. Gentle, and craving gentleness in return. Bucky lives for these moments of self-indulgence between them – wishes he could savor them one little spoonful at a time, let their sweetness linger for days under his tongue.

He intercepts Steve’s hand on its journey across his chest and holds it there, wrapping his flesh-and-bone fingers around Steve’s wrist in a loose grasp.

It’s only then that, across from him, Steve’s eyes slowly blink open. Sky blue and flecks of green, sweet with the last traces of sleep. His eyelashes catch the rosy light of dawn, delicate, all spun sugar and gold, and then–

those crinkles. The softness of Steve’s mouth, the hint of a dimple. He’s smiling.

He’s smiling, half of it swallowed up by his pillow, and Bucky can’t help but smile back.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rumbles.

Steve’s fingers twitch against him, digging softly in Bucky’s chest. His cheeks flush prettily, bringing out the blue in Steve’s bleary eyes, the white teeth showing in the corner of his smile.

“Buck,” he says, warm and a little hoarse, and it’s the most precious sound Bucky will ever, ever hear.

The things he’d do to have his name be the first word on Steve’s lips every day. The things he’d do, just to keep those eyes looking at him the way they are now, the pure bliss of them, as if he were the only thing worth seeing in this world.

He releases Steve’s wrist, sliding his hand along the downy expanse of Steve’s forearm instead, tugging gently at him.

“C’mere.”

And this, this is the best part.

The rustle of fabric, like a murmur in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom; the creak of the mattress, springs shifting under Steve’s moving weight; and Steve, Steve, Steve knocking long legs into Bucky’s legs, curling cold toes over the knob of Bucky’s ankle, slipping into Bucky’s open arms with a sigh.

Bucky watches him all the while, eyes full of him, heart drumming so fast it aches. Home, is what he sees, home braving the dark shadows beneath these sheets to come wrap around him, warm like heaven and just as sweet.

It’s Steve who crushes their lips together. Steve who cradles him close, Bucky’s hip tucked in the hot crease of Steve’s thigh, Steve’s palm cupping the back of Bucky’s head, and leaves Bucky to fill the spaces in between, pull the seams closed with his arms around Steve, his knees around Steve’s knee, his metal hand splayed protectively at the small of Steve’s back.

It’s a slow thing, the kiss. Slow, and sleep-sour, and perfect, and it leaves them both breathless in its wake.

The gleam in Steve’s eyes is all but blinding when they pull apart. His mouth – parted, panting, wet from Bucky’s own tongue, sweet Christ. He’s the one who kissed the red back into those lips, and he wants, God, he wants–

“One more,” he puffs against the bump of Steve’s chin, and Steve chuckles, elated, and kisses him again.

It’s so, so easy to melt back into it. The unhurried pleasure of their bodies meeting, tangling, welcoming one another. Steve’s tongue strokes teasingly along Bucky’s own, hot and slick, and Bucky presses closer, raking blunt fingernails along the slope of Steve’s spine.

The sheets whisper around them, hush, hush, a thousand secrets shared in this warm cocoon, cotton to skin, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

They part– They part and it’s. Unbearable. Horrible. A fucking crime. Never again, Bucky swears to himself, leaning in to rub their noses together as they both catch their breaths.

He sinks his fingers in Steve’s hair, silky and butter-soft under his touch. He’s close enough to feel the tickle of Steve’s eyelashes against his cheek, open and close and open again, and the space behind his ribs swells and tightens all at once.

It’s crazy, the way his heart feels sated, like a puppy full of milk, and still it hungers for this man; craves every part of him, skin and bone, flesh and soul, his kiss and his bite too.

Crazy, how greedy for Steve his heart grows, yet how eager it is to give – More, more love, it says, I can hold so much more love for him.

“One more,” Bucky whispers, and Steve grins into their kiss, squeezing him all the tighter.

When Steve pulls back, Bucky only chases after him. “Nuh-uh, one more.”

When they’re laughing in each other’s mouths – “Come on, I said one more!” – out of breath and lips a-tingling – “Buck– quit tickling me, asshole” – Bucky swears he wants this, exactly this, forever – or as far into forever as their lives can take them.

#stucky #stucky kisses #rillers scribbles #sfdhfgdfjhgf #sometimes you just get really really frustrated with yourself and shit happens okay #*lies on the floor*#i haven't been able to scribble anything in a couple of months so this is probably a bit......eh #probably more .......eh than usual lol #but the thing is #i just want these schmucks to get all the kisses #and if i can give them some then i might as well #*waves pompons*#also i hate that dumb asterisk up there but when i'm doing this from my laptop the formatting just?? won't cooperate?????#dgafdsdhgjfg whatever #*'why am i like this' plays in the background*

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